A/n: So, this is the final chapter. I just wish that there are more Nick-Junior interactions after the events of the Monster Wars, but that's just me.

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I roll lazily through the waves of the bay, exhaling sea water with each of my breath more than strictly necessary just because I enjoy seeing the droplets disappear into the warm afternoon sky. A few birds flying overhead circle me a few times, calculating whether or not my head will make a good perch – which they often find so, annoyingly enough, especially when I just want to bask in the sun – before my warning growls send them squawking away. I am near enough to the shore, where Father's lair is located, to have my talons scratch the silt bottom if I am to stretch my arm straight down. It is calm here for now and I happily dispose the thought of fighting future Big Enemies for the chance to just laze around and soak in the peaceful atmosphere.

It has been a few days since the darkness has left my territories and, though I have kept my vigil, I have yet to sense any trace of it coming back. And good riddance too, if I may add; it is a far more pleasant life without the darkness making mishaps in my world, what with the Big Enemies popping up once in a while to keep me as occupied as it is. In fact, I would have been delighted to kill the Big Bat if not for Father's command keeping me away from it. I have come across it during my last day at the once-dark island while patrolling the area, just in case I missed something – which I did when I spotted the shallowly breathing bundle of furry body, almost totally concealed by the surrounding rocky protrusions and the thickly growing tress which it happened to crash upon. As my territorial sense rather insisted on making a quick kill of it, I was not too happy about leaving it be, even going as far as growling my dissatisfaction but I suppose Father had some weird plans for it that I rather not know about. At least, the Green Man and a bunch of humans were working on it – tangling numerous lines and nets on the Big Bat while a group of flying Unlifes hovered around, no doubt with their stingers ready to attack – when I last saw it. I suppose I can always get back and snap its wing-bones off if it proves to be troublesome later.

I would very much love the day when that happens.

But for now, the Big Bat is cast as far away from my mind as its body is from this place. A flicker of movement near Father's white carrier Unlife – now back in the shade of its rectangular cave in Father's lair – snatches my interest. With a little bit of squinting, I manage to make out the black female, the Strong One in the pack, busying herself with the floating metal leaf. I certainly have no idea what she is doing but it is quite usual to see her fussing around the metal leaf after it has been used. Her presence is subtle compared to the other two members of Father's pack who are now huddling together to the side of the building. Even from where I am, I can hear their voices even as the Sun-haired one continues to point his finger direly at something between them. Apparently, it is the yellow stalker Unlife, having been healed by the Sun-haired one since the last time I swatted it…it is amazing, really, how the stalker Unlife seems to always come back unscathed and ready to do its stalking. It is, however, emitting a strange, babbling noise, something that the Talkative one is apparently as amused with as the Sun-haired one is not.

"Chill, Doc. The only one around here's not appreciating it is YOU," The Talkative one is saying with a smug grin on his face. He suddenly turns around and cast a glance in my direction, saying loudly, "Bet even the Big G loves it."

I don't usually participate in their confusing antics – which are frequently even more confusing than Father himself – but I feel rather in the mood to express a disapproval of some sort and growl at them lazily, I would only love that thing if it stops stalking me.

Seriously, it is particularly annoying when the Unlife trails behind me when I am out foraging. Being much too noisy and too slow to be included in any hunting trip whatsoever, it sometimes distracts me when I have been sufficiently focused upon my quarry. It is much more useful as a chewing toy than it is for anything else. The Talkative one and the Sun-head continue to argue with each other although my interest in them has already waned enough to lose track of what they are saying; I have grown used to their frequent roaring battles after all these while spending my time here. Instead, from the corner of my eyes, I spot a slight movement up on the top of the building; the shifting of red reveals it to be the other female in the pack, the one with the blood-red hair, whom I remember as a very headstrong character just like Father himself. My curiousity rises sharply upon noticing that she is joined by my father there. Their voices are too soft for me to perceive although their expressions speak of seriousness – perhaps it has something to do with the Big Bat on the dark island?

However, she is gone not too long after, leaving Father by himself as he leans over the edge of the building. I continue to watch him for a hint of trouble on his face though I find none; standing there, it seems he is simply taking in the view of his surrounding without any expectation of imminent chaos. Perhaps I have still yet to lose my edginess from the battles, in which case will be a little surprise. One tends to be suspicious when what you thought as your kin turns out to be exactly the enemy that needs destroying…

But Father is certainly not an enemy; I sense life and vitality coming from him, as does with all the rest of his pack. It is reassuring to feel and see them going about like they have completely forgotten that I – despite my unwillingness – have been a threat alongside the other Big Enemies. What more, Father is perfectly willing to forget all that and move along as best as he can – just like he always did.

But I cannot lay it to rest.

Predators do not regret in taking lives. This is our nature, to hunt and weed the weak, but what the darkness has compelled of me is a completely different matter; something against the laws of nature that I cannot quite forgive or forget. More out of instinct, I raise myself from the water and position myself before my father; the shadows cast from my body falls upon him and his immediate surroundings. My gaze lingers over him for a few seconds while he watches me in return. He does not fear me – a small detail that is nevertheless relieving to see – but his expression does indicate puzzlement at my suddenness. I ignore the murmurs of surprise from the other members of the pack and hunker down over my father, careful to keep my muzzle clear of him so as not to knock him off his feet.

"Hey, what's wrong, Godzilla?" He approaches me with urgent steps and stand beside my lowered head. To be fair, his nervousness is justified because I do not usually keep myself this physically close unless I was called upon – or if he needs close-quarter defending.

I feel his small hand presses against my own rough hide, particularly felt since he has touched me on the more sensitive skin of my lower jaw. In return, I rumble out a gentle growl to reassure him of my well-being. It is not protection or healing that I seek from him this time but rather something more obscure. On our first contact, back when I was still fresh out of the egg, I have recognized him as mine from both smell and touch; the bond runs deeper than the blood within our veins, yet still it can –and has been – frayed when I have decided, in my darkness-induced madness, to disown and kill him.

So, I repeat exactly what I have done before. Having grown much since then, our size differences are vast considering that he does not seem to put in either height or width. Thus, it is with a slight difficulty that I tilt my head to one side and align my jaws more or less on his level. My nose detects his characteristic scent easily when I give a quick sniff, then a lick on his face to take in his traits more clearly and let them be carved into my mind.

"Godzilla, what's into you?" He moans a little despairingly and wipes the saliva off his face, something I cannot really help with. It is admittedly a little childish of him but I cannot bring myself to feel annoyed or anything – in fact, I find myself amused with his frantic wiping. My eyes are fixed upon him while he struggles with the cleaning before the expression on his face changes significantly. His hands stop mid-swipe as recollections of the previous instances I have done so come to his mind. I lay there perfectly still, waiting as patiently as I can for his next response now that he understands the meaning in my gesture.

I give him another questioning growl which he answers with an understanding smile, much to my relief. He replaces his palm back on my lower jaw, roughly at the same area as before and gives a few petting there. "Welcome back, Big Guy. I'm happy you're on our side."

His simple response is enough to earn a satisfied growl from me. I back away once I feel his hand withdraw from my hide, having received exactly what I wish – his acceptance and assurance, all conveyed within both his hands and his voice. I can feel his eyes upon me as I slip back underwater, safe in the knowledge that despite our struggles with the dark forces, despite the mistakes that I have made, our survival gives chance for the bond between us to be renewed and strengthened.

Happily, I retreat to my favourite spot on the sandy shore at the side of Father's lair and lay myself flat to the ground. The warmth of the sand is comforting underneath my weight and the sun shines bright above me; my tail sweeps lazily through the little waves that lap up the shore, enjoying the little delights in feeling its coolness and the gentle caresses of the current. The seagulls squawk in the distant, their noises mingling with the soft sounds of waves upon the sand. I am all prepared to sleep now – but before I do, I crank up an eyelid to spy on the members of Father's pack going about their usual businesses. The Sun-head and the Talker, still arguing over the yellow stalker Unlife; the glimpse of the Red-head through the windows of Father's lair; even the Strong Female, apparently having finished with her tinkering with the white carrier. My father still lingers on the rooftop of his lair, seemingly at peace as I am right now.

Whatever the other people may say, I belong here. The others may be hostile towards me; despise or fear my presence, but as long as Father will have me, then here I will stay. I close my eyes finally and let sleep overcome me, enjoying the peace before the appearances of more Big Enemies call to me to battles.