If anybody else has a good clever line for the standard disclaimer, I'd love to hear it but I'm all out...

Enjoy!

"Um, hi guys!" Randy found his voice first around the fat lump of intimidation that had settled in his throat. "What's up?"

"What has Bishop done?" Leonardo's voice was tightly controlled and sharp, as though he were striking each word with his blade. There was menace in his tone, and his hands gripped his swords.

"You heard us?" Nick asked, unconsciously taking a step back. He wasn't afraid of the turtles, not exactly, but he had the sudden feeling of the need for respectful distance, as he often got with Godzilla or other dangerous predators.

"We heard." Raphael's voice was low and growled, and his fists shook.

"You knew that Bishop had implanted an embryo into Don's head," Monique stated, not backing down an inch. "That he has another should not be a surprise to you."

"It's not." Leo's eyes narrowed.

"We don't care about the clones," Michelangelo put in, and all of HEAT was surprised to see the usually-cheerful turtle's face twisted into smoldering anger. "All we want to know is what he did to make Donnie like…that." His voice faltered as he turned.

HEAT had seen Donatello at his best, bright and eager and brilliant. They had seen him weak and sick. They had seen him frightened and lost in a diagnosis beyond him. But they had not seen him like this.

The olive-green turtle stood surrounded by his brothers, Leo in front of him and the others to either side, partially blocking him from HEAT's view. But as the lead turtle moved aside, they could clearly see that Don was in bad shape. He stood, but his head was tilted oddly to one side and he swayed as though he might fall at any time. His arms and legs twitched eerily, like a jerky puppet on strings. His face was completely blank, eyes wide, unseeing, and strangely red. All at once, he let out a growl and started to curl into a crouch. Michelangelo reached forward and gently pulled his brother until he was again upright, but the face remained contorted into something feral, alien on the gentle face. He let out a sound that was more bark than vocalization, and his nose began to bleed.

"You tell us what Bishop did to make Donnie like this," Raph's voice was almost lost in his barely-contained fury.

"He's…he must be brainwashing or training the clones somehow," Elsie realized. "Godzilla blocked him out, and so he's protecting Nick, but Donatello is hard-wired into the collective. He can't block the signals coming into his brain from what the clones are receiving from Bishop."

"But what's he doin' to them to make him like that?" Randy was aghast.

"It does not matter," Monique snapped. "Accept the horror of it and adjust."

"Horrible is right," Craven shivered. At the scientist's show of weakness and compassion, all three cognizant turtles seemed to let their anger deflate at least a little.

"We've tried everything," and the steel in Leo's voice melted to something almost vulnerable. "We can't get him to snap out of it."

"You gotta help him," Mikey put in. "This isn't our brother. You've gotta fix him!"

"There's gotta be somethin' you can do to make him not like this," Raph added, though the rage burned in his eyes still. But one hand had gone to his brother's shoulder, mirroring the grip Michelangelo had on the other side.

"We'll try," Nick said decisively. He wished he could turn away, not see his friend like this, but he knew that was the coward's way out. Don was living this torture – he could at least endure to look at it. "Bring him in."

"Jefe, what's the plan? What can we do?" Randy asked as Mendel moved ahead of the rest to throw open doors while the turtles steered their brother gently.

"We don't know yet," Elsie said, exchanging a glance with Nick. "The obvious thing would be the surgery, but we're just not ready."

"We may never be ready," Mendel said fiercely. "Can we risk letting him stay like this?"

"Haste is more dangerous than patience, no?" Monique narrowed her eyes. "We cannot unmake a mistake at this juncture. You must be certain."

Nick gestured to the table, but Raph and Mikey, still guiding Don with Leo behind them, hesitated. They both turned back to the blue-banded turtle, who sighed. Nick read the clear worry in their faces and raised a hand.

"It's for his safety as much as ours. He could hurt himself, and nobody wants that. I'm sorry."

"We know," Leonardo breathed deeply, steadying himself. Then he squared his shoulders. "All right. But I'll do it."

Leo met Mikey's eyes, then Raph's. His heart was beating so hard and fast it was nearly making him dizzy, but there was nothing he could do to help it. The doctor was right – Don was as much a danger to himself as others in this state, and they had to protect him. But it went against his every instinct, his every hour of training, his every vow to his brother to strap him onto a table like an experiment. And yet, it was an experiment that might be the only hope of saving his life.

He waved the other two away from Don, noting the fear in Mikey's face and the fury in Raph's, and signaled them to move to the table itself. His mind flashed to the moment in Bishop's lab at Area 51 when he had been the one to bring Donatello down, shooting mercilessly at his brother in an effort to save his life. It was that all over again. When he had time to rage again, Bishop would pay for this pain – his own, his brothers', and most importantly, Donnie's.

With the lightning speed of a true ninja, Leo blurred forward, grasping Donatello from behind. Even as his brother moved awkwardly to react to the sudden grip, Leo was already hefting his weight in a modified throw. As gently as it could be done, he flipped Don onto the table, holding back his dismay at the crack of an already hurt skull on the hard metal when his brother arched his neck at just the wrong moment. Red and orange moved at either side, pulling their brother's arms and legs to the restraints, affixing them tightly, moreso than HEAT would ever dare. They alone knew what their bodies could take, knew what would hurt Don, knew how tightly to bind him to prevent his ninja reflexes and flexibility from finding him an opening for escape. It was the work of a moment, and the weight of the ultimate betrayal.

Donatello immediately bellowed his blind fury, his bloody nose making him look rabid as his face twisted. Michelangelo, visibly holding back tears, turned away. Raphael looked ready to murder something, and he stared at the body of his brother with almost resolute defiance. But it was Leonardo who moved to take the hand now locked in a manacle, who spoke into the awful silence broken by the alien primal scream.

"Don. I don't know if you can hear me this time. We won't let Bishop win, we won't let you get lost again. I know you're still in there. Just hang on. We'll get rid of it, I promise. No matter what, we won't lose you again." He looked away from his brother to the HEAT team, their expressions ranging from stricken to impassive to blazing.

"When Don got sick last time," he gulped, "and he changed into a monster, he didn't even look like himself anymore. But it was like this, too. I think this is worse, though," and he turned back to the table, "because he still looks like our Don. Except he isn't."

"Do something," Raphael ordered, pinning Nick with his glare. "Anything. Do it."

"I'm not ready, I can't operate now. But I think I can at least give him something to make it harder for the embryo to influence him," Nick said. He moved to his lab, Elsie already at his side. Without words, they began to mix a cocktail off a combination of drugs that worked on Don according to his own research and drugs that worked on Godzilla, referencing again and again the preliminary work Donatello himself had done for this eventuality. Referencing a pile of notes, they shuffled things around until Elsie suddenly stopped.

"I don't believe it," She murmured. Any noise that wasn't Donatello's feral sounds drew the attention of everyone, and suddenly there were seven individuals crowding her. She pointed to a notation in a document Don had emailed over just the previous day, one she had merely skimmed until something caught her attention. "See that? He…he knew. Or he speculated. He planned for the worst-case scenario, and he gave us a start on it."

"But what is it?" Randy asked.

"A chemical solution that will target the embryo in his brain through the nuclear signature left in its DNA and, in theory, dissolve it without requiring surgery to take it out," Nick added, looking over her shoulder.

"That's great!" Mendel smiled. Then the smile faded. "Wait, 'in theory'?"

"He never finished the formula," Elsie said. "He was able to make a temporary neuro-depressant that should impair its connectivity to his brain. That's what we're making now, and he sketched out the beginnings of an idea to make it more permanent. But it's incomplete."

"Can you finish his work?" Monique demanded.

Nick and Elsie looked at each other for a long time, handing the paper over to Mendel and sharing significant looks, pointing at various markings on the paper and mumbling to themselves. Raphael was about ready to shout at them, but a gesture from Leo kept him quiet. The three breathed in and let it out almost in unison. Nick looked up.

"Right now, no. But given time, we can try."

"All right. Don's…secure now," and Leonardo felt his voice crack on the dryness of his throat as he spoke even as he tried to adopt his usual tone of command. "We've got to tell Master Splinter what's happened. And our other friends deserve to know, too." He glanced at the form struggling on the table and turned to his brothers. "We'll head back to the lair, but we'll be back soon."

"Don't any of you wanna, you know, stay with him?" Randy asked. To his surprise, all three turtles shifted, and as one their eyes fell and they stared at the floor. There was a moment of awkward quiet.

"Don't pressure them, Randy," Elsie broke in after a moment. As the hacker turned to her in confusion, she gestured to Donatello. "He's their brother, Randy. As hard as it is for us to watch him like that, don't you think it's even harder on them? Leave them alone."

Randy gulped and nodded, flushed with embarrassment. Elsie was right. Seeing Donnie like this, feral, lost, it was enough to turn his stomach, and he'd seen a lot of weird and scary things in the last few years since joining up with Nick and HEAT. He remembered how hard it had been for Nick to watch Godzilla in pain even before they'd been forcibly connected, how hard it had been when Elsie had been possessed by alien mind control. He knew how badly he felt seeing the mutant friend in this state – all at once he realized he couldn't imagine the depths of pain it must cause his family. Even knowing the turtles for such a short time, they were more insular than anyone he'd ever known; they operated as a closed unit, even when they could open up to outsiders. Instinctively, the turtles thought of their whole world as a set of four, five if they considered their father, long before remembering any human allies. To have a link in that chain broken must be rending them emotional-limb-from-limb.

"Gotcha," he said softly. "Sorry."

"No, you're probably right," Leo began. "We shouldn't leave him…"

"You're not," Nick interrupted. "He knows he's with friends. We'll give him this sedative and he'll be out until you get back." He managed a comforting smile. "Go tell your master and your friends. We'll take care of him."

"C'mon, Leo," Raph urged. "The sooner we go, the sooner we can come back. I'd rather be here when he wakes up." Beside him, Mikey's face seemed to relax a little at the suggestion from the strained expression he'd been unable to shake.

"All right," the blue-clad turtle agreed. "But if anything changes, if anything happens, call us immediately, okay?"

"We will," Elsie nodded.

-==OOO==-

Nick closed his eyes, rubbing his temples intently. He had at least two headaches, only one of which was his own, and no amount of aspirin was really able to block either. At least the lab itself was relatively peaceful – after the compound they'd produced, Don had fallen into a deep sleep. Elsie and Mendel were across the room, working quietly with some of Don's newest notes. Randy had retreated to his own corner, working furiously on some hacking, so furiously, in fact, that he wasn't even talking to himself while doing it. That usually meant it was serious. Monique was nowhere in sight, but that didn't mean much given her usual ability to disappear while still actually being in the same room with them.

Nick pushed himself off the couch reluctantly. He'd retreated there to try to clear his mind after running dry of ideas, but it wasn't working. Instead he moved to the window, looking out at the water that reflected the city lights in the dark. He could feel Godzilla in his lair below, suffering right alongside him. Their headaches were shared, the perfect reflection of the mess they were caught in this time.

"Godzilla?" he called mentally.

The lizard sent back a questioning response, almost the way a human would raise an eyebrow to such an entreaty.

"How are you doing?" Nick asked, knowing his charge would feel the question more than he could understand the words.

"I hurt."

"I know, big guy," he sympathized. As near as Nick could tell, Godzilla was still being hammered by whatever Bishop was doing with the clones, his efforts completely focused on keeping out the external influence. Godzilla was successful – not so much as a hint of what had possessed Donatello was leaking through the chinks of his control – but it was like locking a door with someone pounding outside. Even though there was no way Bishop was getting into their minds, the constant barrage was annoying at best.

"Parent?" came the worried question as Godzilla prodded for Nick's own well-being.

"I'm worried, but I'm okay," he assured him. Something warm and content slipped across the bond, Godzilla's feelings about his parent's safety being easy enough to interpret. Then another feeling came across, along with an image of Donatello – the only possible translation was "Is this one a danger?"

"No," Nick replied firmly. "He's sick. Like you were," and he remembered for both of them when Godzilla had been under the effects of the outbreak virus at the island not long before. "I'm helping him."

Acceptance, but wariness, flooded him. Nick was surprised by how concerned Godzilla was, not over his well-being, which was to be expected, but over Nick's own vigilance. And then he realized that Godzilla himself was also "sick." Not the way Donatello was, but still, something was impairing his ability to function comfortably, and he was, in a sense, vulnerable. And therefore, Nick was also vulnerable in Godzilla's eyes. Nick was sure Godzilla would respond if there were true danger, but it might be like dealing with a crisis with a migraine – he would try, but the outcome would not be optimal.

"I'll be okay, Godzilla. I promise."

Nick broke the contact as soon as he was sure Godzilla had received his assurance. He found conversing with his charge to be oddly comforting, but also, he could feel the shadow at the edge of Godzilla's mind, and it was a persistent reminder of Bishop's presence in another mind. This was no time to work on human-lizard relations.

"Where are we at?" he asked aloud, moving towards Elsie and Mendel.

"Working through Don's notes, matching them up with what we've already found," Elsie reported. "It looks like he's on the right track. His mutation is similar to Godzilla's, but it's different enough that there's a chance we could isolate the implant from Bishop and attack it chemically, like a virus, and if not dissolve it completely, at least shrink it enough to make extraction less risky."

"The problem is coming up with something that won't hurt Don at the same time," Mendel sighed. "He didn't figure out how to solve that problem, and so far, neither have we."

"Keep trying. Anything we can do to make the surgery less risky is worth a shot," Nick replied. He stepped to the side of the table on which his friend rested. "I know we might not have a choice, but we have to try." As he looked at Donatello's sleeping form, he reached forward to a shadow under the turtle's neck. His fingers came away bloody.

"Hey, did you guys see this?" Without waiting for a response, he grabbed a flashlight and examined him more closely. "Looks like Don must've opened that same head-wound again when they put him on the table."

"We'll have to patch him up," Elsie said, drawing near. "This would be the worst possible time to risk an infection."

"But how?" Mendel wanted to know. "We had to have him on his front to access that part of his head when he was on the table last time."

"Then we turn him over," Nick answered. "Come on. He's still out cold. We can flip him over now, before his brothers get back and see this."

"Are you sure?" Craven approached hesitantly. "What if he wakes up?"

"I think that is less likely than the other turtles being upset by seeing him bleeding when they get back. I'm willing to risk it."

"If you say so," Elsie shrugged. She moved to unbuckle the restraints at his legs and pointed Mendel to the right arm.

Nick worked at the manacle on the left hand, making note of how tightly the turtles had bound Don. A moment later, the three of them had him completely unrestrained, and they nervously searched his face for signs of waking. But he was as still as before, with no change to either respiration or the heartbeat they could see pulsing in a vein in his neck. On a count of three, the scientists hefted the turtle over, carefully flipping him without bumping him around too much. Elsie cradled his head so he didn't bash it on the table again. She took the chance to examine the wound on the back of Don's head, relieved to note that it looked worse than it really was. Once they had him re-secured, it would be quick work to patch up.

"What are you doing?" Monique demanded from out of nowhere. All three scientists froze and turn to her in surprise.

"Just turning him over so we can deal with this," Elsie gestured.

"Quickly, then." She turned towards Randy, apparently dismissing them.

Nick, Elsie, and Mendel exchanged a look that, even weary with stress, made them smile. Monique was so paranoid, and so intent on being in charge of their safety. It would be funny if it weren't so predictable.

But as they exchanged glances, they failed to notice a turtle's red eyes opening.

-==OOO==-

"Look, I'm sorry we didn't tell you," Leonardo sighed defensively. "But now you know the whole story, okay?"

Before him, three faces looked back, their expressions ranging from disappointed to confused to infuriated. Leo tried to deflect their gazes, but all three resolutely kept their eyes on him. This was definitely a drawback to being the leader; Mikey and Raph were on the other end of the room, paying attention, of course, but it wasn't their shells having to explain to Leatherhead, Casey, and April how sick Don had gotten, and how much they hadn't shared.

"I just…I don't believe it!" April stood up from the couch and started to pace. "How could you not tell us that Don had a…a thing growing in his brain?"

"Chill out, April. The guys probably had a good reason. Right?" Casey asked.

"Uh, yeah," Leo tried not to fidget. In fact, thinking about the last several days, or maybe the last several weeks, he was sort of at a loss as to why nobody had told April and Casey and Leatherhead about Donnie's situation. They had all, of course, been present when he'd been re-infected by Bishop a while back, but since then, things had just sort of moved on without them. Then again, April and Casey had been on the move a lot, visiting both Casey's mom and April's sister, and though they were always in contact, it wasn't exactly the sort of conversation one carried on over the phone. Leo had let them know they were having trouble with Bishop again, but he'd been pretty lax on the details.

Leatherhead, though, now that one was the real question. Leatherhead was as much a scientist as Don, brilliant in his own right and very familiar with the turtles' anatomy and genetics. The reason Leo hadn't thought to update the croc was that he just didn't think about it – talking to Leatherhead was Don's deal. He could see in the mutant's eyes that there was no blame levied towards himself for the slight, but still there remained the question: why hadn't Donatello told Leatherhead directly?

"What is done is done," Master Splinter saved his eldest son from having to answer more awkward questions. "Now we must determine how to move forward."

"Are you sure you can trust those HEAT guys?" Casey wanted to know. "I mean, they're friends with Big-and-Scaly himself, but they're also in with the military."

"We're sure. Don trusted them first," Leo answered heavily.

"I concur," Leatherhead spoke up at last. "Donatello's interest in Godzilla is long-standing, and I have been privy to several of his lines of inquiry prior to the last few months. From all I have been able to establish, and from everything he shared with me, Donatello had ample evidence to prove that the members of HEAT were, as much as could be established without direct contact, the sort of scientific group most likely to be amenable to our attempts at friendship. If recent events have not disproven that, I would say your brother's analysis was accurate as far as that goes."

"Okay, so we trust them. But Don's…he's dying, isn't he?" April sat heavily on the nearest chair.

"No way!" Mikey shouted from across the room.

"Yes, he is," Splinter contradicted him softly. At that, all noise stopped. "By inches and minutes, but yes. His mind is strong, but how long he can hold out against an invader on both the physical and mental planes remains to be seen."

"So what are we going to do about it?" Casey wordlessly put an arm around April as she looked each of them in the face, searching for answers. April loved all the turtles like brothers, but there was no denying that Don was also probably her best friend. She fought to keep tears from overwhelming her. The turtles needed her help, not her grief.

"I…don't know," Leo answered. He turned to his father.

"For now," the sensei decided, "Leonardo, Michelangelo, Raphael, and I shall return to HEAT's laboratory to aid Donatello if it can be done. We have not yet tried certain techniques to reach him. Perhaps we will find him not through the body, but within the soul."

"What can we do to help?" Casey asked.

"I will remain here," Leatherhead elected. "It is possible Donatello himself has some information or notes that would help HEAT in their work that he was unable to forward before falling ill." He coughed uncomfortably. "I am still wary of scientists, so I will, I think, remain in the shadows until absolutely needed. I believe I can be the most help from here, with Donatello's own equipment."

"I'll help you for now, then," April decided. She had been a heartbeat away from opting to join the turtles and Splinter where Don was, but there was something in Raph's silence, and in Mikey's troubled eyes that bothered her. She'd seen Don transformed from the outbreak virus, and that was hard enough. She wasn't sure she wanted to be haunted any further by the image of the gentle, bright turtle mindless and savage. Besides, even if Don trusted HEAT, she didn't know them yet. If something went wrong, she wanted to be able to serve as an ace in the hole to bail them out.

"What about me?" Casey asked.

"Mr Jones," Splinter said deftly, "it is unlikely we will come to the end of these events without once again meeting Agent Bishop in battle. Other than assisting Miss O'Neil and Leatherhead in their endeavors, I believe the most we can ask of you is to prepare yourself for that time."

"You got it! I'll be ready! Just give me a call and I'll be there to kick some serious Bishop butt!" Casey's eyes narrowed.

Leonardo and Splinter exchanged a look. Casey was so well-meaning, and he was pretty good in a fight, but there was another reason for framing things this way – hopefully, the promise of a battle would keep him from disturbing the scientific research that must happen first. Casey was a staunch, loyal, courageous friend, but he was also a brick. And right now, the situation demanded something slightly more subtle and delicate.

"Very well. We shall gather some things and make our way to Staten Island, then," Splinter said, turning.

And he promptly stumbled.

Before he could so much as tip forward, Leo had an arm around his waist, and he lowered his master gently to the couch. In a flash, Raph and Mikey had joined them.

"Master Splinter?"

"I am fine," he replied, meeting the blue-banded turtle's eyes solemnly. "But I fear your brother is not."

-==OOO==-

"Don?" Elsie asked gently.

In a corner of the lab, the turtle cowered, pulling himself as far under the desk as possible. No one had noticed he was awake, in spite of the drugs in his system, until he had bounded from the table in a blind panic.

"Donnie, man, it's okay! It's just us!" Randy called hopefully.

"What's he saying?" Craven asked, still putting a healthy margin between himself and the turtle lost in his own mind. At his question, all five humans fell silent to listen.

"…Master…Master…help me…in my mind again…can't fight it…my brothers…" As he whimpered, Donatello rocked back and forth, clutching his head.

"He's almost conscious!" Nick realized. "That drug must have helped to subvert the embryo Bishop implanted somehow."

"Yeah, but for now long?" Elsie asked. "He's fighting for control now. That compound won't last long against his metabolism, and when it stops working, we'll have a real problem."

"Then it is time," Monique said, turning and leaving the room, her stride tight and angry.

"What do you…?" Randy tried to call after her, but she was gone.

"Guys!" Nick exclaimed.

Donatello had gone quiet and still. He was no longer rocking back and forth, and no longer speaking. Nick slowly began to approach the turtle.

And suddenly found himself in Godzilla's mind.

"Parent!"

Nick felt a surge of something at the edge of their mental bond and realized that whatever Bishop was doing had been ratcheted up into overdrive. His mutant charge was barely holding his own against the intrusion, and even then, Nick could sense what he was blocking out. Images of himself accompanied feelings of "bad" and "enemy." Images of the turtles as "danger." And mostly, images of Bishop as a parent, giving orders, deserving obedience and loyalty.

"Fight it Godzilla!" Nick shouted, pushing his own will and determination into their bond, everything else forgotten. Made bold by the tightness of their connection, Nick himself lent some of his energy to blocking out Bishop's influence. It was as if the two of them were leaning against a dam, keeping it from shattering inward and bringing a torrent with it.

Then danger flashed, and neither Nick nor Godzilla could immediately identify the source. Out of nowhere, Nick was slammed back into himself so violently he fell backwards into a counter, his head reeling and Godzilla bellowing in his lair below. But what had woken him was obvious enough at first sight.

Donatello, eyes red, had come out from under the desk and was taking on an offensive posture.

"Donnie, it's me! Nick! Your friend," Nick slid along the counter until he could back away a little. He could feel his own fear, and Godzilla's, but he also felt oddly paralyzed, as though everything was coming to him on delay. It took him a moment to realize that he and Godzilla were both still pushing against Bishop's intrusion into their bond, and for as long as they were both distracted this way, neither of them would really be present enough for much action. It was like reacting in a dream – slow, after the fact.

And a moment later, but a moment too late, Nick registered Donatello springing towards him.