Sorry for the hiatus – sales meeting ate my hours and days. Also, with my band recording our first album, I have a lot less weekend time than usual. But the story is basically done now, so I just need a few minutes to post it at a time, I think. I could probably put up the whole thing all at once, but where's the fun in that?

Don't own the TMNT or Godzilla or Fort Knox (which I don't think is trademarked but it would be neat if I owned it!). No monies for me.

Enjoy!

Randy Hernandez cracked his knuckles without his usual drama as he settled into his computer station. Hacking the government? Easy – he'd done it plenty of times before. Hacking into the navy? Even easier – their security was downright predictable. But hacking into a governmental entity that operated in total secrecy, with apparently ridiculous resources at their disposal and a way unhealthy attitude? Well, at least he enjoyed a challenge!

As Randy began his usual process of forcing open sites and firewalls that otherwise unbent themselves to nobody, he remembered the one thing Don had told him about not long after he'd started really hanging around the Staten Island headquarters.

"Hey! Where'd that come from?" Randy had demanded, seeing his computer's background suddenly switch from a very cool shot of Godzilla in action to what could only be described as a picture of Donatello sitting triumphantly on top of his head.

"It was easy." Randy turned to see the turtle in question standing behind him, grinning.

"No, seriously, how'd you breech my security? I had everything set up…"

"Yeah, your network is kinda like Fort Knox on steroids," Don had said, "but even Fort Knox can be beat. You rely too much on stable defenses, not enough on offense."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, take me. I'm a ninja, and if I really, really wanted to, I could probably get into and out of any place, no matter how secure, without anybody seeing me as long as I didn't do anything to call their attention to me. Right?"

"Yeah, I guess. So…?"

"I hacked your system weeks ago, Randy. I just didn't do anything that would make your defenses act against me. Once I convinced your system I was just a part of the program, part of the scenery, they stopped paying attention to me. From there, I could move little stuff around, stuff not designed to trigger any response, until the whole thing was basically under my control."

"You convinced my network that you were part of its own programming? That is wicked cool!" Randy had cheered, genuinely impressed, even if it was his pride that had been wounded.

"Yep. If you go into your system folders, you'll see where I left you an annotated description of everything I changed, of every hole I exploited. Might want to plug them up."

"Yeah, I'll do that. But," and Randy's eyes had narrowed suspiciously, "why'd you hack me to start with?"

"'Cause you were there," came the cheerful reply. "And because I thought you'd rather me hack you than anybody else out there. Between what you've already got and a few of my tweaks, you'll be basically impenetrable. And," Don had smirked knowingly, "with that data in hand, you'll be able to hack just about anybody you want. Except me, of course."

Randy had taken it as a challenge, and while he hadn't yet successfully managed to penetrate Donatello's own system, he had learned a ton from the little breech. Stuff he now intended to put to good use.

"Bishop's group can't be better than Fort Knox," he said to himself, kicking off a few more processes eagerly. "And even if it is, it's totally not going to beat me! Consider this a little payback, courtesy of Don and Randy!"

Within the hour, he had the exact GPS coordinates the turtles needed to rescue their brother.

-==OOO==-

Nick looked at his watch in frustration. More than two hours had passed since Nick and Elsie had administered the full antidote to Godzilla, yet the giant mutant still slept. They'd run a few quick tests after an hour just to be sure everything was all right, and indeed, the G-cells in his system seemed to be returning to their usual functions, beating away what remained of the outbreak virus from Bishop. But, for such a quick healer, Godzilla seemed to be taking his time on this one.

"I sure don't want to wake you early," the scientist said aloud to his charge, "but if you don't come around soon, I might have to. We really shouldn't stay here any longer than absolutely necessary, just in case."

Nick resisted the urge to kick at the sand like an impatient kid. Instead, he sat down, his back against Godzilla's lower jaw, and crossed his arms. A steady, deep influx of air from giant-sized breathing kept him cool even in the shadeless sun, and there was something comforting about being in contact with Godzilla. As if he could will the lizard to be well through the force of his mind.

Suddenly a thought occurred to Nick. He reached out and laid a hand on the scales beside him, probing gently with his mind. But, as from the moment he'd come out of meditation with Donatello hours prior, there was almost no sense of the other presence within him. It should have been a relief – for how long had he wanted nothing but to separate his consciousness from Godzilla? Now, at last, he had what he'd wanted. But it wasn't a relief.

"There's no telling what will happen to our bond after this," he said, more to hear himself fill the silence than anything else. "Maybe the virus undid some of the chemical stuff that bound us in the first place. Or maybe this is just a momentary lull because of the drugs. Or maybe because of what Donatello and I did before, cutting you off. Or maybe because you threw me out of your mind when the virus got to you."

He considered the options. There was a definite chance that, if he did nothing, the bond that had plagued him might be, if not cut, at least permanently quieted. There was a chance he would no longer have to fight for every inch of control when Godzilla was angry. There was a chance he could regain his full independence, no longer symbiotic with a mutation taller than buildings.

But there was also a chance that, without that bond, something else might go wrong. How many times had he been rescued because of Godzilla's uncanny knowledge of his situation? How many times had he been able to stop Godzilla from accidental damage because he could communicate with him? How much had Godzilla learned and gained from exposure to his parent's mind? And what would be the psychological backlash if that exposure was cut? Even if it brought relief to Nick, he wasn't convinced the giant mutant would feel the same – in fact, he was relatively sure that Godzilla would react with anger and pain, as he did to any injury.

Which was a whole other potential problem. With Nick in his mind, he'd become even easier to calm, his rage easier to quell without unnecessary destruction. Godzilla had been mind-controlled a few different times, and always it ended in disaster when his will was restored and he reacted with understandable fury. Just as Nick had reacted to the bond poorly to start, he was sure Godzilla would react ten times more poorly were it to be severed now. He might even become wilder, more feral, more enraged, as any cornered or injured creature would. Nick sighed. The prospect of a Godzilla a little deranged from that loss outweighed everything he might want or think. There was just too great a possibility for things to go terribly wrong.

"Never thought I'd say this," he admitted ruefully, feeling a long-pained ache inside cry out, a gut instinct to reconsider, to ignore the possibilities and think only of his own struggles. But that pain was not greater than the needs of countless others, especially Godzilla's. "But I think we're better off the way we were. Everybody is a little safer with you in my head. So I guess I better do something about it now, before it's too late. Or before I rethink this too much."

Nick had a decisive streak, and once he determined to ensure that his bond with Godzilla was not lost, there wasn't much his inner self or anybody else could say to dissuade him. Settling himself a little more comfortably, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He had a fraction of the knowledge Donatello did regarding mediation, but he did know Godzilla, had lived as half of their shared consciousness for a long time now, so he didn't need a whole lot of guidance to seek the mutant.

"Godzilla," he breathed the name. "Godzilla, can you hear me?"

Worryingly, there was no immediate response. No tug to join in the other's mind, no sense of the vast strangeness that was Godzilla's own consciousness. So often, reaching out like this left Nick unable to completely distinguish his own self from Godzilla's, sure even that he was swimming in the ocean, not seated on a chair someplace else. But he might as well have been reaching for Major Hicks with his mind for all the response he got.

"Godzilla, it's me. You've got to answer me," he thought, directing his mind inward even farther. Remembering some of what Donatello had said to put him under before, he tried to replicate the process, but found himself stubbornly still within only himself, sitting on hot sand, leaning against a mutant so familiar and yet totally apart. A tiny part of Nick's heart started to panic. What if he couldn't get Godzilla back at all?

"No. I'll get him back. I've never let him down, and he's never failed to answer when I needed him before." Nick stood and faced Godzilla, setting himself so he was directly across from one giant, closed eye. "Hear that? You've never not come when I needed you. Come on, big guy. Come on. I need you to answer me."

And Nick suddenly knew exactly how much he would miss Godzilla. As much as he hated losing himself to the mutant when his human mind was awash in mutant thoughts, much more than that he cared about the giant who had imprinted on him at hatching. For all the trouble, the danger, the arguing with every governmental agency in the country, it wasn't just Godzilla who had imprinted that day. Nick was, as much as any human could be, his parent. And the scientist knew it. He didn't love Godzilla as a father did a son, didn't feel for him as he did for the members of HEAT.

But he did feel something fierce, loyal, protective. Yes, it was as alien as Godzilla's mind, but in that same strangeness, Nick loved Godzilla intensely. The feeling blazed – Nick was suddenly moved with an inner power he only associated with Godzilla's own force of emotions. Godzilla was his, his in a way that no one else would ever claim, and yes, all considerations of the human world aside, he loved him like nothing else.

"Parent."

Then Nick was falling into that lostness that came with Godzilla's mind, but he welcomed it, embraced it, even as his vision winked out and he was in a place as bizarre as his mental office surroundings had been mundane. But it was Godzilla, all right – no other force could be so uncontrolled and yet so gentle, so capable of oppressing him but respectfully offering space. Unlike what had happened in his own mind, Godzilla did not materialize before him; his reptilian identity was instead stamped over every inch of the space itself.

"Godzilla! I thought I lost you, big guy," Nick said, unable to keep the relief from his voice. There was no lying within the mind of his charge, not that he was terribly interested in lying to Godzilla anyway.

"I hurt." It rumbled around him like an earthquake, and Nick became aware of the sharpness of the injury to the lizard's side, as well as a general feeling of soreness throughout his body. But the statement was accompanied by a wash of relief, and the scientist understood that, while annoyed by his physical injuries, Godzilla was grateful that the more dangerous "hurt," the mind-eroding virus, was gone.

"I'll bet it hurts. Those drugs were pretty powerful. But it'll fade soon."

"I was lost. Could not find parent. You were gone." There was such a sense of sorrow in that statement, of an utter loneliness, that Nick felt a lump rise in his metaphysical throat. He pushed it aside, not out of embarrassment, but because Godzilla could feel what he felt clearly enough – he didn't need to elaborate right this minute. Still, to have been missed so keenly, it validated a lot of what he felt and could never explain, even to himself. He leaned into the presence, almost giving the mind around him a hug.

"I know. But I'm here now. Do you think you can wake up? I think you'll feel better if you start moving around a little."

While Godzilla processed Nick's question, the human's own thoughts slid back to their situation. They needed to get off the island quickly, not only for Godzilla's safety, but to help Donatello. The pit that had opened in Nick's stomach the minute he learned what Don had done to save them all was getting wider and deeper by the minute.

"Nick."

"What is it, Godzilla?" Nick could feel the lizard waking, his mind settling into even more awareness around him. And something specific was working its way out of the depths to him.

"Friend," the mutant thought at him with the same sense he applied to the rest of HEAT – Godzilla didn't have much use for the concept of allies or companions beyond Nick himself, but he did understand Nick's feelings towards the other humans who were around. This time, however, Godzilla was specifically invoking an image of Donatello, Nick was sure of it. The feelings he got from his charge weren't entirely clear, but he understood.

"What about Donatello?"

Godzilla's answer was less language than his usual communication, but the sense of it was clear anyway. Nick felt like he was sitting on Godzilla's shoulder in a dark place, looking down at Donatello who was somehow there and not there, just as he himself was there and not there.

"You met Don in your mind?"

Affirmation, and then a shaky sort of memory came to him. Godzilla lived very much in the present, and those communications were always clear. Letting his charge take him "swimming," for example, was always vivid, almost too vivid. But anything from the past was usually a little more muddled, not because Godzilla didn't have any memories, but because he simply was a creature of the moment, the immediate. Still, the lizard pieced together a thought, an image, a feeling that had come from the terrapin.

"Wait, you're trying to show me that Donatello gave you a message?" Nick felt pride thunder through him. This was incredible! Who would have guessed how far his mutant charge had come in his understanding and cognition? He concentrated on Godzilla's images, on what he was projecting, and got an unmistakable sense of something.

"You're telling me Donatello told you your eggs were hatching?" Nick thought confusedly through the sensations. Certainly Godzilla had enough instinctive knowledge of eggs and hatching, not only through his own experience but through the nature of his heritage, so that part was clear. And the sense of the eggs actually being Godzilla was strong – possessiveness was definitely a common, and easily-interpreted, feeling from him.

Agreement flooded through the lizard. Nick mentally patted him for his clarity and his intelligence, but still he was puzzled. Why would Donatello tell Godzilla that his eggs were hatching? Don knew as well as Nick did that Godzilla was totally infertile – they'd discussed it more than once. What could he mean?

"I think I need to figure this one out on my own," he said, starting to pull away. "Come with me and wake up now, okay? Come and wake up, Godzilla."

"I will try."

Nick felt his charge pushing him slightly, returning him to his own mind. For not the first time, the scientist wondered how exactly Godzilla could be instinctively so knowledgeable about psychic contact – it was Godzilla who did most of the "driving" between their bond, with Nick imparting a measure of control and influence. But the power and the contact was much more up to the mutant than the man. It was odd.

But not worth pursuing now, as Nick felt his eyes open. He steadied himself before either tipping forward into Godzilla's eye or backwards onto the sand, feeling relief, and yet a twinge of regret as the presence in his mind began to hum again. Their bond was intact, as it had been, for better or worse. And a moment later, Godzilla's enormous eye opened, fixed itself on his parent, and the lizard huffed contentedly. Nick put a hand on the scaly skin, and he smiled a little. When he spoke, he knew his feelings were true, even if he'd never imagined he'd feel so strongly or surely about his charge.

"It's good to have you back, Godzilla."

-==OOO==-

All things considered, finding and sneaking into Bishop's base wasn't nearly as difficult as the turtles had expected. Of course, it helped that Randy had been as good as his word in locating the precise coordinates to lead them there. And, although they didn't have the Shell Sub anymore – it having been lost when Donatello had escaped the compromised lair with Master Splinter – they had some basic breathers Don had whipped up one late night, and they were all strong swimmers. So it wasn't long after they'd reached the familiar skyline and returned the helicopter to its hangar before they were up to their eyes in river water, preparing for the dive.

"Okay, everybody remember the plan?" Leonardo asked as he fitted his breather.

"Nah, I'm dumb that way. Explain it for the third time, please," Raph rolled his eyes. A glare from their sensei cut off the rest of his remark.

"You two will infiltrate the base and locate your brother," Splinter took over. "Michelangelo and I will serve as both distraction and rear-guard. We will ensure there is a path out once you have gotten in."

"And I've got the extra breather," Mikey said, voice a bit more solemn than usual, "so make sure you get Don to me before we bail." It was a well-established fact that Donatello was the strongest swimmer of the four, but there was no telling what shape he'd be in when they found him. If he was hurt or unconscious, it was Michelangelo's job to get him to safety while the other three bought their escape however necessary.

"Right. If we get separated, get Don home. And if you get cornered, head for Staten Island."

"Why Staten, Leo?" Mikey asked.

"It's far, too far for Bishop to expect us to make it," he replied. "And HEAT's lab will do in a pinch until you can get away."

"Won't Bishop expect us to run straight to those guys if we're in trouble?" Raph pointed out.

"Maybe," Leo conceded. "But if Mike is on his own dragging Don, he'll need shelter, and like I said, I don't think he'll expect us to be able to ride the current that long. Besides, there's lots of abandoned buildings in the area he can hide in until we catch up."

"Then we are prepared," Master Splinter said decisively. He pulled his own breather over his snout, grateful that his scientifically-minded son had prepared one especially for him; after the escape from the lair via the Shell Sub, Don had made sure to fit one of the masks for his father's face as well as his slightly different oxygen needs. The ninja master felt something in his heart ache – his gentlest son thought so much about their family, about what he could contribute to keep them all safe and comfortable. He would retrieve his son from the den of evil that had captured him, no matter what the cost.

As one, the four dove beneath the waves and began the descent to the hidden base. The water was a little cold, but nothing they couldn't handle – it was only in winter and early spring that the river was dangerous to the cold-blooded turtles and elderly rat. As they approached the underwater stronghold, they could see the hallmarks of Bishop's work. The dome had once been sloppily constructed, obviously created out of whatever could be found on the ocean floor. Now it was sleek, black, almost seamless.

At a signal from Leo, all four moved abruptly to the right as a spotlight in the murky water swept by them. They were swimming in at an oblique angle and very close together, hoping to pass for a school of fish to any sensors Bishop might employ. Since no squads emerged and no weapons were fired, they assumed they had succeeded – within minutes they were clinging to the bottom of an inbound underwater craft to be carried inside undetected.

Counting five minutes after their ride had docked, the four emerged slowly, using the shadow of the boat to hide their presence. The docking bay was guarded, but only sparsely. Bishop did not anticipate visitors, apparently, though he was paranoid enough to provide some measure of protection. As one, the turtles and their father emerged from the water where the platform was already wet, taking cover behind equipment that had been recently unloaded.

"All right. We're off to find Don. Any idea where they'd be, Mikey?" Leo whispered.

Michelangelo shook his head. Too much had changed, and there was no telling which part of the complex had been converted into what.

"Then we do this the ninja way," Raph grimaced, instinctively drawing his sai as he prepared himself for a fight. They'd sneak for as long as they could, but at some point, given the crazy nature of Bishop's usual security, they'd be running and searching and fighting at the same time. Which was generally how he liked it, but without knowing right where to find Don, they could lose precious time stumbling into goons, time Bishop could use to do more of whatever he'd already done to their brother.

"Take care, my sons," Master Splinter whispered as Leonardo and Raphael vanished into crevices and shadows. He turned to Michelangelo, whose usually bright eyes were troubled. The sensei smiled a little, trying to cheer the youngest of his sons by inviting the sort of chaos he knew the orange-clad turtle often associated with fun.

"So, what sort of distraction shall we provide?"