So! After what feels like forever, this story is at last complete! It's about 265 pages in Word, and my beta is slowly reading through its lengths looking for things that make no sense and those that make all too much sense. But I've decided to go ahead and begin posting anyway. I'll try to keep it regular, at least. But hang in there. We've got a lot of story to go!

This has been a true labor of love, and I hope the story I intended to tell is the one that reaches you.

As always and, sadly, forever, I do not own the TMNT or Godzilla in any way. Wish I did, but not sure I'm worthy of the connection!

Enjoy!

"He's really late," Mendel said, turning from his workbench. Although each and every member of HEAT, Nick excluded, had an apartment elsewhere, they spent most of their evenings at the lab, even camping out on the couch and the cots in a back room when the trip home seemed daunting. So it was not out of the ordinary for the team to still be in the old ferry building this late at night.

What was odd was that Nick was not among them.

"Maybe the dinner or whatever it was ran late," Randy suggested. "You know how he gets when he's talking about his favorite subject. And the G-man hasn't come charging out into the city, so he's probably okay."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Elsie conceded, stopping her nervous pacing. "If anything had happened, Godzilla would have reacted by now."

"Indeed. But we do not yet know how deep the bond goes when one party is unconscious," Monique put in, "so there is still some risk."

"Oh, thanks, French fry," the red-headed woman sighed. "It's not like I'm not worried enough."

"Chill out, Elsie. He'll be fine." Randy turned away from his computer and flashed a grin at her. "The jefe is tough. And he's got the best back-up in the world!"

"Gosh, thanks!"

All four heads swiveled at the sound of the new voice. In the doorway that led to the upper deck stood Nick, a bandage on his head, but otherwise looking pretty happy. Beside him, a familiar turtle casually leaned on the door-frame.

"What happened?" Mendel asked as the rest of HEAT started to swarm their friend. Monique's naked fury made her eyes extremely cold, but the turtle seemed not to notice her glare. Either that or he was particularly good at avoiding angry stares.

"Ran into some trouble in the city. The…Donatello actually pulled me out," Nick replied, waving them away.

"Trouble?"

"Purple Dragons," Donatello answered Randy's question. "They have a knack for finding people on the street and talking them out of the valuables. Fortunately, Nick is pretty tough, and keeping tabs on those guys is on my to-do list, so no real harm done."

"Thanks again, Don," Nick said, smiling at the turtle. Still, the biologist's head swam. The four turtles had astounded him with their story, their intelligence, their abilities. Though he could not say where precisely their lair was, having been left with the other three at some sort of central runoff while the apparently-resident medic went ahead to pick up his supplies, all the equipment he had seen showed impressive innovation. And as Nick was learning, a lot of that innovation was Donatello's.

"No problem!" the turtle shrugged easily. "All part of the service."

"Um, not to sound rude, but why did you come back?" Elsie asked. "It's not like we were really nice to you the first time."

"I invited him," Nick said. "I was in tight spot, and Don helped me get out of it. Seemed like the least I could do was introduce him properly."

"To be honest, I've wanted to talk to all of you for a while now," Donatello said. "The work you do is absolutely fascinating, and more importantly, directly related to my own line of inquiry. I was hoping that I could learn from you, see what you've already figured out that would further my study. I've read all your works since our last encounter and they've really helped me. But I'm sure there's a lot you haven't been able to publish considering…well, just considering. And given some other things going on, I think we might need each other."

A nervous look crossed Donatello's face, and he turned back to Nick. In the sewers, when hefound himself talking easily with the doctor and realizing what an ally he had, this plan had seemed so simple. Nick trusted his people; he had assured the turtles that HEAT would be receptive to them given time. But the brainiac of the turtles was still worried. He had Nick in his corner now, a dozen emails had done that, but he wanted the others. Leatherhead was a great scientist, but this team was an invaluable resource, and if Donatello ever wanted to prevent what had happened to him from striking his brothers, if he ever wanted to be sure his family would be safe if something happened to him again, he needed their help. Especially now that Bishop was back to his old tricks.

"Hey, you scratch our back we scratch yours, or your shell, whatever," Randy smiled. The youngest member of HEAT was about as easy-going as anybody, way moreso than the rest of the team, and the prospect of a giant mutant turtle for a friend was pretty high on his "cool" meter.

"Wait, you actually read my paper on the similarity of construction and mobility of large exo-skeletal mutants with modern robotics design?" Dr Craven asked, eyes alight. At the turtle's nod, he began speaking very quickly, "I didn't think anybody read it because it was so far afield of my usual subject-matter, and it didn't get the usual response from the scientific community, who already thinks I'm a little bit nuts anyway, so my credibility appeared to be an issue and…"

"We get it, Mendel," Elsie stopped him, and though her words were sharp, her tone was good-natured. "And if you don't mind answering some of my questions, I'd be glad to have a subject that can talk about its physiology and psychological motivations instead of, you know, spitting fire at me or something. Kind of a nice change of pace."

"Donatello's not a specimen, though," Nick said firmly. "He's a friend."

"Well, we've been studying Randy for years searching for intelligence, so I think we can handle a certain amount of professional distance." Dr Craven spoke without even cracking a smile, but the satisfaction in his voice was unmistakable.

"Oh, yeah? What about you? Elsie could write a whole journal about the amazing Allergic-to-Everything Man!" As the verbal sparring began, Nick and Donatello traded glances; it was not unlike the turtle brothers themselves, though with a little less physicality. The familiarity was a small comfort to the turtle on display.

"What about you, Monique?" Elsie turned towards the Frenchwoman who had not spoken since Nick's arrival. She was staring at Donatello very coldly.

"If you all desire to forge some form of friendship with this creature, I will not impede you. But do not expect me to follow your idiocy." She crossed her arms and glared.

"Monique, he's a friend. He helped me. I've had the opportunity to speak with Donatello extensively, and he's, for lack of a better word, as 'human' as we are. He's intelligent, self-aware, experiences emotional nuances, the whole deal. He just also happens to be a turtle." Nick could almost feel the tension getting worse around him. Somewhere Godzilla snorted in the water, but the lizard was familiar enough with the kinds of altercations that could happen between his parent and the other humans, so he didn't rise to defend as he otherwise might have - small comfort for said parent at the moment.

"And I just happen to be in charge of security. I respect your decision and your analysis, doctor, but I will deem it worthy of trust when I am ready." Monique turned on her heel and went downstairs, shoulders stiff.

"Donnie, I'm sorry," Nick said after a moment of awkward silence. "Monique's a good person, she really is. She's just…protective of us."

"I know," the turtle said, and though there was weight in the words, he smiled. "I know somebody like that myself."

Nick nodded – Monique and the other turtles had plenty in common, there was no denying it. He just hoped they'd all give each other a chance. "So, what's the verdict?"

Donatello pulled out his Shell Cell and rapidly typed a few keys. A moment later, he smiled even more widely. Randy, Mendel, and Elsie all saw him relax a bit, as though he had been somehow off-balance and was now much more comfortable.

"They're coming."

The words had just begun to hang in the air when three shapes appeared in the doorway.

"Sorry, guys," Nick apologized sheepishly as more turtles emerged in the light. "But we didn't want to make it harder, and we thought four turtles might be a bit much right off the bat."

"Four?" Elsie's eyebrows went right up into her hair.

"Of the teenage mutant ninja variety!" one of the newly-arrived turtles quipped brightly.

"I think I read about you guys in a comic book once!" Randy exclaimed.

"No, you're thinking about the radioactive hamsters. Not us," Donatello sighed. Nick stepped forward quickly, gesturing towards his friends.

"This is my team: Dr Elsie Chapman, Dr Mendel Craven, and Randy Hernandez."

"Geez, Donnie, how many braniacs did you fall in with this time?" Michelangelo asked.

"I count three PhDs, not to mention the original brainiac here," Raph said, nodding towards Donatello.

"Actually, it's more than that – Dr Craven has at least two degrees all on his own," Don clarified. He gestured at the HEAT team. "We've got enough for a real brain trust between those three."

"Well, don't I feel left out?" Randy remarked.

"Think we should do brother swap?" Michelangelo asked. "Trade that guy, who seems cool, for Donnie?"

"Knock it off," Leo admonished. He folded his hands and bowed slightly. "I am Leonardo. These are my brothers Raphael and Michelangelo. You've already met Donatello. It's nice to meet you, I think," Leonardo held out a hand. "Sorry for the intrusion last time. We thought Donnie was in danger."

"Well...this time we'll let bygones be bygones," Randy said loftily. He eyed the offered hand for one more moment, then took it.

"Yeah, because we absolutely didn't drug and restrain their brother against his will and run some tests on him," Elsie pointed out. "I'd say they had the right to be worried about dissection!"

"But we didn't!" Mendel squeaked as an angry gleam lit in Raphael's eyes. "He woke up and started talking way before we even got that far!"

"You sure we can trust these guys, bro?" Raph asked, hands instinctively flicking to rest on his sai.

"Calm down," Leo admonished. "We already know they didn't hurt Don and besides, we need their help. Or they need ours."

"We do?" Randy asked.

"Oh, probably. And if Monique were here, I'm sure she'd want to hear…" Nick began.

A shadow moved in a corner. Before anyone could blink, the four turtles had positioned themselves defensively around the HEAT team and drawn their weapons.

"What's going on?" Dr Craven asked, fear tightening his voice.

"Shh," Leonardo said, closing his eyes. He adjusted his stance slightly and murmured, "Six. On three."

The other three nodded. The blue-clad turtle whispered an almost imperceptible countdown of "three…two…one." And the four exploded.

Leonardo, darting forward, slashed a gleaming sword into the shadow, and a squeal of metal echoed as bits of some kind of gadget went flying. Simultaneously, Donatello reached into the rafters with his long bo staff and brought down another while Raphael threw a sai, embedding it in a wall through a third. Michelangelo swung a wide arc and sent a fourth and fifth flying from their hidden perch behind a piece of equipment.

"Is that all of them?" Raph asked.

"Listen," Donatello said, and the four held perfectly still. The members of HEAT, somewhat taken aback by the sudden attack, stood in silence as well.

"There!" A clicking had given a position away. But as Leonardo barreled for it, it abruptly cut out.

"How…?"

Monique appeared, holding the last device, wires neatly torn out.

"This is the last," she announced coldly. "Explain what they are."

"Monique," Nick began warningly.

"You think we brought these with us?" Mikey asked in surprise. At the silent glare he received, he gulped.

"Sorry lady, but you're barking up the wrong shell. Wasn't us," Raph grunted as he retrieved his sai and added his target to the pile.

"Actually, they're right," Randy said. When everyone looked to him, he shrugged. "Look at 'em. Everything these guys use is good, don't get me wrong, but it ain't molded from scratch like this. This is high-end technology, probably corporate or government."

Every eye in the room turned to the examples piled on a table. The gadgets, simply built, appeared to be reconnaissance robots, fit with optical recording devices, but with a certain quality to them that was, as Randy said, beyond what Donatello could do in his workshop. The turtles traded glances – they bore a certain resemblance to a few metallic friends that had cost them their first lair.

"He's right," Dr Craven said, scrutinizing a piece. "This is top-of-the-line. I'd give a ton for a grant that could buy me stuff like this."

"This sounds more like Cameron Winters to me," Elsie put in. "He's got the money, he loves spying on us, and he's a pain."

"Yeah, but it also looks like…" Michelangelo began. Donatello threw a swift look to Leo, who nudged his brother meaningfully. "Um…like it's a good thing we were here!" he finished.

"I would have removed them myself." Monique crossed her arms.

"Cool it, everybody. I've gotta get some air." The sudden tenseness in Nick's voice cut through the rest of the discomfort in the room. Without much of a backward glance, the biologist made a rapid retreat for the nearest door and went outside.

"He okay?" Raph asked.

"He's fine," Randy lied easily. "Jefe just needs a break from the children sometimes."

"Which normally means you," Mendel commented.

As the verbal sparring began, with his brothers as a few new participants, Donatello slipped after his friend.

-==OOO==-

"Hey big guy," Nick breathed. A familiar surge of annoyance flitted through him, but he dismissed it quickly. Some days he couldn't go two hours without needing to reassure his charge; it was entirely understandable, given the circumstances of the evening, that his mind-mate would not accept anything less than an in-person visit to reassure himself. Godzilla was in the water a few yards away, not bothering to come all the way up this time now that he could see his parent. Hunting was good, and his parent was only mildly distressed, and the intruders were no longer a threat. The lizard huffed and a few bubbles popped on the surface of the water.

"See? I told you I was fine. My friends helped."

A low rumble echoed in the water, like a deep engine of some kind, but the sound was familiar to Nick, and warm in that familiarity. It was the half-purr, half-growl Godzilla tended to make around his parent. It signified contentment, for all was well, and also a certain amount of protectiveness, an intention to keep it that way. The emotions that had once been so chaotic, so overpowering, were much more subdued these days, and now a fixture in Nick's daily life. He was still not fond of having Godzilla in his mind, but he was definitely growing accustomed to it.

An unfamiliar hand on Nick's shoulder startled him, and he spun rapidly, adrenaline gushing. Godzilla reacted a beat behind, raising his head out of the water menacingly.

"Sorry! Didn't mean to scare you!" Donatello apologized. Then, seeing the giant mutant before him, he took a step back. "Oh."

"It's all right. Godzilla, it's all right!" Nick repeated. Godzilla tipped his head and stared at the turtle with one bright eye.

"Easy there big fella," Donnie took two more steps back. "Didn't mean to startle your friend! Honest!"

"Godzilla." This time, Nick's voice was soft, and Donatello almost had to strain to hear it. "He's not a threat. And he's not prey. He's a friend. He's okay." The biologist moved so that he was between the turtle and his charge and put up a hand. "It's okay," he whispered under his breath.

Godzilla lowered his head and bumped the hand as gently as a cat. He sniffed for a moment, causing a slight breeze around the pair, then stepped back, sinking into the cool water once more.

"Good boy."

"Wow." Donatello looked from the scientist to the lizard and back again. "He understands you, doesn't he?"

"Well…" Nick began, trying to avoid explanation.

"But he doesn't understand human speech. That's been documented."

"Godzilla understands me. That's all I can tell you for now," Nick said, eyes meeting Donatello's intently. The turtle understood that he was treading on secrets too close for comfort, and he nodded.

"Sure. We all have things we can't share yet." A crash inside brought both back to the present and alleviated the awkward moment. "I'll bet that was one of my brothers. I'd better go check." Nick smiled and turned back to Godzilla, understanding that his secret, or as much of it as the intelligent turtle knew or suspected, was safe.

As Donatello went back inside, excited beyond words for the possibilities whirring in his mind, a shadow joined Nick at the railing.

"He knows." Monique's voice was the coldest it had been all night.

"Maybe. Maybe not. But it's okay. Honestly, I think they're as scared of us as we are of them. And what can he do if he does know? He's not going to tell anybody."

"Regardless, you should not have permitted him to see that."

"Sometimes, Monique," Nick said, sighing slightly and feeling Godzilla slip below the surface of the water and away to his den, "sometimes you just don't see. Donatello is more like Godzilla, and more like me, than anyone I've ever met. If Godzilla has a cousin, it's the turtles. And if I have a kindred spirit, somebody who can see things the same way I do, it might be him."

He turned to her, smiling a little. Monique was surprised – Nick had not been this relaxed in many weeks. Between the stresses of their usual lives and the added pressure of the mind within his own, he had rarely been at peace. But here, something in the friendship of the turtle had awakened a certain calm within the scientist.

"So you better get used to it. 'Cause you're gonna see a lot of him."