Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

San Francisco burned. Survivors sluggishly climbed through wreckage, smeared in blood and dirt. First responders listened for those still alive who were too trapped to save themselves. In frantic tones, people cried out for their missing friends and family members. 

Somewhere among the smoke, Mark and Emma Russell tripped over themselves in search of one of their children, shouting themselves hoarse with each minute that passed with no returning call. 

Twelve-year-old Andrew Russell clung to his mother. The only true clean spots on his face were the tracks left behind by his tears. 

Mark turned to look at his wife, his chest heaving, eyes pinched, blood seeping down his cheek from a cut at his temple. There was no sign of their daughter, and there was no way to know if they were even close to where she’d been lost. The destruction all looked the same in the darkness. 

When do you give up? When do you walk away and try to remember how to live? When do you admit there will be one less heartbeat in your home? 

There were people still searching, people who hadn’t been caught in the worst of it, people who didn’t feel the weight of near-death down to their bones. People who didn’t have an injured son in need of medical attention. 

The first responders were left with one more name to shout for, when the Russells finally allowed themselves to be escorted to safety. Left to search for one more child who wouldn’t answer. 

San Fransisco buzzed through the rest of the night into the next day, until evening once again descended on the broken city. The cycle repeated. Any vehicles that could be used to ship people out and away ran until there was no one left to carry. Emergency medical tents were slowly packed up as the streets emptied. Less survivors were dug out of the wreckage with each passing hour; the number of calls to retrieve the dead increased. 

Through it all, Godzilla, bloody victor that he was, slept. He was largely left alone, though wary eyes found it hard to look away from his scaled body. For better or worse, they knew he wasn’t dead. His chest heaved with labored breaths and every now and then, a twitch of his tail or clawed fingers sent the nearby humans’ hearts racing. They could only figure he would leave when he was ready. 

• • • 

When Godzilla finally awoke on the second night after the battle, there was no one there to see it. He grumbled to himself as he rose up, surveying the desolate cityscape around him. The fight had been rough, and his struggle against the MUTOs was carved into the planet in possibly-irreparable damage. 

For the first time in forever, it was silent in San Francisco. Even with the MUTOs dead, power was fickle at best and entirely lost at worst. There was no one crawling through the wreckage at that time of night—humans, for all their determination and tenacity, still needed to sleep. They could only hope that anyone still alive had been found before relief efforts had begun to slowly pull back. 

Godzilla slowly waded through the buildings, those still standing and those which had collapsed. His body ached and exhaustion had settled over him like a blanket. Perhaps contrary to what most humans might have believed, the sight of such destruction weighed heavy on his heart. Regardless of him having emerged victorious in the end, so much was lost before he could put an end to the MUTOs. 

Humans might not have been the kindest to him in the past, but he was meant to protect the earth and those who called it home—and that meant the tiny little creatures who always stared up at him in fear. 

No worthy King took pleasure in seeing his kingdom leveled and his people left for dead. 

Maybe that was why his sharp senses picked out the faint rustling noise between his thundering footsteps, and why his eyes so easily zeroed in on the especially tiny figure wriggling helplessly beneath a mangled car. 

A child, weak and tired and alone, futilely pushed against the metal trapping their body within a crack in the concrete. They would’ve been dead, crushed without mercy, had the street not opened up just enough to swallow the kid and take the weight of the heavy debris. A nearby building had partially fallen in such a way so as to make it impossible to see the pinned child from any vantage point other than straight up. 

Godzilla slowly reached down, wary of frightening the human into hurting themself, and lifted the car. The human, as soon as his claws entered their sight, froze in their determined struggle and didn’t make so much as a sound as they were freed. 

He bent down to get a closer look at the motionless child. Despite the dirty smears on their face, the rips in their clothes, and the bitter scent of blood, he determined the human to be a very young girl. 

She stared back at him for a long moment, perhaps taking his measure as he took hers, before croaking out, “Thanks.” 

Without even trying, Godzilla could sense the child’s weakness. If she’d been trapped since the battle, then she’d been injured and alone down there without food or water for at least two days. An adult might handle such an ordeal well enough, but a human as young as her size implied would not. Even as he thought this, she tried to leave the crack only to collapse before making it to her feet. Her tiny fingers folded into shaking fists and Godzilla could taste the salt of her tears even through the acrid smoke still lingering over the city. 

She was frustrated with herself. 

He watched her try again, only to cut her palms on shattered glass when her legs failed to hold her weight. A little huff escaped her, catching at the end in a sob. She looked back up at him, her face pale and drawn. 

And Godzilla found himself considering his options. To leave the child there was unthinkable. Too many had already died from his failure to kill the MUTOs quickly to even contemplate walking away from this little human. Because she would die if he left—he knew with absolute certainty that she would not survive another night in her state. 

There was no one left in San Francisco to take her to. The silence stretched a great distance. It was likely evacuations had taken away even those farther from the true battlegrounds. He had no idea how far inland the nearest humans were, and trying to track them down would only result in more ruin. Even then, though he had no pups of his own, parental logic demanded that he not leave the girl with untrustworthy strangers. 

Later, Godzilla wouldn’t entirely be able to explain, even to himself, what made him make the choice he did. He could claim the exhaustion—he’d hardly been of sound mind at the time, after the beating he’d taken before he could end his opponents. He could claim pity for the abandoned child—though that did a disservice to her, to the little one who hadn’t just given up and died when escape initially proved impossible. 

Or maybe he saw the death and destruction around him—much of it caused by him, however unintentionally—and felt the desperate need to save just one person from the tragedy of battle. To know with complete confidence that one person didn’t simply survive, but could find reason enough to smile again, could exist without nightmares haunting their waking moments and memories poisoning their dreams. 

Whatever the reason, Godzilla carefully reached down again and scooped the tiny human up, more heedful of his claws than he’d ever been before. The child, drooping from exhaustion much like him, didn’t scream or struggle away. She merely sagged against the wall of his cupped palm and drifted off. He’d never seen such a show of trust.

For better or worse, in that moment, Godzilla knew he wouldn’t let her go. In times long past, his fellow Titans—Mothra most of all—had teased him over the protective instincts they all knew he had. Towards his own kind was expected. Towards humanity was obligation. But the ones they’d poked fun at were the ones he’d never had cause to show.

Yes, for better or worse, Godzilla had willing accepted—put upon himself, in fact—responsibility for a child.

When he stole away from the remains of San Francisco that night, he wasn’t thinking about what raising a human would be like, much less the problems that would likely arise over time. He wasn’t thinking about the other Titans’ reactions, should they ever wake up and find out. He wasn’t even thinking about whether or not it was a good idea. 

Fresh from a taxing battle, covered in wounds that would scar, the Titan could only think about how completely and utterly unafraid of him the child had been, and how nice it might be to not be alone. 

Chapter Text

Maddie would never be able to say exactly what happened after she passed out in Godzilla’s hand. She remembered her mom talking about him before, remembered peeking at some of the secret papers in her parents’ study, remembered giggling under the covers with Andrew over some black and white photos they’d snuck off with. 

He wasn’t like what she expected. Dad talked about him like he was an animal with no way to think about things. Mom talked about him like he was supposed to be better than people. But he’d saved her, and he’d picked her up more carefully than even her parents did sometimes. She had looked into his eyes and the way he’d looked back had been anything but animal instinct. 

When she had fallen asleep, her last thought had been to wonder what he would do with her. Now, she uncurled her legs from where they pressed against her chest and sat up. She was still in his hand, and she could practically feel the rush of water flowing out of the way as he trudged through it.

She rose onto her knees, feeling too shaky to stand all the way, and gasped a little in surprise when his fingers lowered enough to allow her to see over them. 

Godzilla was approaching a group of squiggly islands all spread out. The one directly ahead was a funny looking crescent shape, leaving a large bay in the middle, surrounded on all sides but one. The island itself was mostly mountainous and covered in trees, with what had to be a volcano towards the far end. Smoke lazily drifted into the air above it. 

“An archipelago,” Maddie whispered, remembering the word from her geography book. She’d needed to ask her teacher how to pronounce it because it looked so silly.

None of her parents’ books had anything like this in them. It was so beautiful. She’d never seen so much green, so rich in color. The sea around the sparkling, white-sand beaches went from the deepest of blues to a crystal-clear aqua. As they got closer, she could make out more of the landscape. The beaches stretched great distances, and on one side of the bay, it looked there was a series of caves leading right into the water. Brightly colored flowers and fruits hung from some of the trees.

There were no buildings, no people. Though she could see birds and what might have been really big turtles, and there was who-knew-what else hiding among the trees, the archipelago looked abandoned. Or rather, untouched. 

“Can’t really abandon something that’s never been found,” she said with a nod. 

Maddie shuffled on her knees to the edge of his palm so she could see all the way down. The water below them seemed really deep, but Godzilla plowed through it as if it wasn’t there at all. 

She leaned forward a little more, only to jerk backward at a sudden rumble of warning from behind. Maddie twisted around. He was watching her, his eyes like flames or lava or the sun. The sound and the look combined were reactions she’d been faced with before—particularly from exasperated teachers during field trips—so Maddie sat back down a safe distance from the edge.

The huff she received was much gentler, which meant she must’ve gotten his meaning right. Maddie grinned. It was almost a game, like when she’d sat next to a nice lady who didn’t know English during a plane ride. She’d looked so lonely that Maddie’d just had to talk to her. Not speaking the same language was no excuse, and it certainly wasn’t enough to stop her then. Expression and tone were sometimes all you needed. 

She wondered if he could understand her. 

The longer Maddie sat there, the more fidgety she became. She wanted to run around in those pretty forests or along the gleaming beaches, but an ache over her whole body was becoming harder to ignore. Sleep beckoned, real sleep that wasn’t just drifting off for a little while from exhaustion under a car. 

Her tummy rumbled. It’d been so long since she’d had anything to eat or drink. 

Tapping her fingers against her ankle, she thought about telling Godzilla. He’d rescued her, and everyone said he didn’t eat humans, so he must care at least a little about what she needed. With a nod, it was decided. She’d ask if he could find her something to eat, and then they could play charades so she could find out why she was here with him and not somewhere with humans. 

Because that was important too, even if she hadn’t really been thinking about it. How could anyone focus on something like that when they were on an adventure? 

Before she say anything, Maddie realized Godzilla had waded through the archipelago’s bay while she’d been distracted, and now he was making his way into those caves she’d seen earlier. 

Attention sufficiently caught, she forgot about food in favor of watching with wide eyes as he ducked into the biggest one. He had to hunch funny to keep his head from hitting the ceiling, though a few—stalagmites or stalactites, which was it; stalagmites might hit the ceiling and stalactites had to hold tight to keep from falling—stalactites scrapped against his scales. 

Godzilla stepped out of the water onto the natural stone floor and continued on. It tilted downward, like a ramp, and then the cave opened up into a huge underground cavern. There was an enormous pool in the center with a dozen smaller ones here and there. Not only was each faintly steaming, they glowed. 

“Hot springs!” Maddie cried, grinning. At least, she was pretty sure that was what they were. She’d never seen any in real life. 

A choppy rumble was her answer, and since it sounded like her grandpa when he chuckled, she decided he was probably laughing. 

Godzilla splashed into the great big pool and sunk down into it. Reaching out, he held his hand close to the ground and tossed his head when she glanced back at him. She hopped down to the cave floor and immediately wobbled on her feet. 

He snorted and nudged her towards one of the little pools. 

Maddie had always wanted to go in a hot tub, which she imagined was pretty close to a hot spring, but her mom always told her that she had to wait until she was older. Of course she wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to try one now. 

Leaving her shoes and socks by the edge, she wiggled out of her pants—her favorite pair, too, and they’d gotten all dirty and ripped—and jacket, deciding her t-shirt would be a good enough swimsuit. 

After a poke to the water to make sure it wasn’t too hot, Maddie slipped in. She could see the bottom, but couldn’t quite reach it while keeping her head above the surface. 

“Oooh,” she said happily. It felt so good, and all those stinging cuts and throbbing bruises stopped hurting quite so much. Goosebumps rose up along her arms from the wonderful heat. 

“I never want to leave,” she told Godzilla, who rumble-laughed again. 

Maddie looked up the incline where the bright light from outside kept the cavern from being too dark. Her little pool was glowing a nice ocean green, like you saw in all the good pictures of resort beaches. Godzilla’s was bluer, and darker. Maybe because his was a lot deeper? 

“So is this your home?” she asked, leaning her arms on the edge and resting her chin on them. “It’s really pretty.” 

He huffed and kind of jerked his head like he was nodding. It was good enough for her. She couldn’t wait to tell her family about how beautiful everything was here. Maybe they could get a hot tub and put lights in the bottom. 

Andrew would really like to hear about the caves. She’d see if she could look around them more before Godzilla took her back, in case there were any secrets hiding in different sections. There had definitely been more than one opening, and since this chamber didn’t seem like it connected to anything, that meant there had to be other caves to explore. 

She pushed back off of the little pool’s edge and squeezed her eyes shut as she submerged herself. Maddie splashed around for a while, entirely unwilling to leave the comforting warmth. Eventually, Godzilla got out, but he didn’t do anything to make her think she had to leave at the same time, so she blew bubbles just beneath the surface as he walked up the incline and left the cave. 

He wasn’t gone long. The Titan stepped past all the pools to the back of the cavern, where he laid down in a big crescent shape, with his head close to her. Before he finished getting settled, he dropped something next to Maddie. 

It was a branch with sunset-colored fruit on it, and she was quick to lean up over the edge to inspect it. They looked kinda familiar—though she couldn’t remember eating one before—and she was really hungry, so hopefully Godzilla wouldn’t give her something poisonous. Choosing one that was soft without being mushy, Maddie brought it up to her face to smell, like she’d seen her mom do at the grocery store. 

She didn’t quite know what she was looking for, but it smelled good, so she bit into the skin like it was an apple. The flesh on the inside was sweet and yellow and juicy. Godzilla watched her carefully. 

“Thanks!” she said with a bright smile. “It’s really good!” 

Blowing a breath out of his nose like a sigh, his body went a little more limp. Maybe he’d been worried she wouldn’t like it. 

Satisfied with the meal she’d been offered, Maddie finished off the pretty fruit—discovering quickly that there was a large pit inside—and took a second. She hummed with delight over the taste. 

The Titan continued to watch over her with half-closed eyes. He seemed relaxed, and if he felt as good as she did from the hot springs, then she understood. Only when she started yawning did Maddie reluctantly leave the warm water. 

She shivered slightly in her wet t-shirt, tempted to jump back in but knowing it’d be really bad if she fell asleep in there. A little growl from Godzilla’s direction solved her indecision. He shifted his head in a way that seemed like an invitation to her. 

Maddie tried to wring out her shirt as she hurried across the cave to him. Ooh, he was warm, and she didn’t hesitate to plop down in a nice little nook created by the angle of his jaw. 

“Mm,” she said drowsily. “Andrew’s never gonna believe me…” 

And with that, she drifted off, with Godzilla not far behind. 

Chapter Text

Godzilla’s sleep was blissfully dreamless. The hot spring’s healing water had banished the worst of his injuries, though he would need to take a trip soon to his favored underwater temple to recharge his radiation. He could afford to wait a little longer before that, though, to make sure the child was settled and safe. 

She was still asleep and curled up against him when he woke up. Her tiny little life force was much less battered and tremulous after rest, food, and her own experience in the hot springs. Thank goodness they worked on humans as well as they did on Titans. It’d been a gamble, but it’d paid off. 

Though he didn’t want to leave her, Godzilla’s own hunger was becoming difficult to ignore. He’d drained himself well and good with that last battle, and the lead up to it—tracking the interloper had been bothersome and then the humans had turned their weapons on him when he showed up to take care of the whole mess—had been tiring all on its own. There was no time to eat when a rogue Titan was rampaging across the earth.

It took careful maneuvering, but Godzilla managed to slip away from the child without waking her. She shifted against the cave floor, seemingly unbothered by it. The stone would likely retain some heat for a while. 

He left the cave and crossed through the bay back into the ocean, where he sank below the waves and slowly dove to follow the drop-off into deeper water. The depths around the first home of the Titans—an archipelago, the child had called it—were teeming with creatures perfect for satiating an enormous being’s appetite. 

While he hunted, Godzilla considered how to go about taking care of a human child. She was clearly old enough to function at least marginally well on her own—she’d known not to fall asleep in the hot spring, which was more than he could say of some of his fellow Titans. In time, he could teach her how to find meat for herself, but he had no problem providing food for her. Showing her which fruits she could eat would come first.

The hot springs would keep her healthy, barring complications. For her own safety, she’d sleep in his nest with him. The rest could be figured out over time, though he’d need to find some way to tell her which parts of the islands weren’t safe for her on her own. 

His knowledge of humans and their needs was limited, so it would be a learning experience to discover what else the child would need. 

As his teeth sliced through the side of a sizable creature, Godzilla felt the slightest stirrings of doubt. If his Queen were still with him, she would likely have a lot to say about his impulsive decision. He huffed around his mouthful. 

Mothra’s theoretical reaction didn’t matter, since she wasn’t there. No one was. How long had he been the only Titan wandering the planet, living at the islands, waiting for someone to return? Too long.  

And that monkey on the other side of the world didn’t count. He was a half-Titan at best. 

With his thoughts growing more agitated, Godzilla’s tail whipped viciously behind him, his spines glowing more from his emotional state than any need to charge his radiation. 

Those rogue Titans didn’t count either, not least because they were dead and gone. They weren’t kindred the way the rest of them were, with their bickering and play-fights and teasing and all. There was no room on earth for malicious Titans. 

Was it so wrong for Godzilla to have tired of the silence? Of the empty islands that only barely felt like home anymore? He’d lost his Queen long ago, and the others had been dropping off, vanishing into sleep where he could not reach them, both before and after her sacrifice. She would return, he knew, but loneliness had ached without relief and for so long, he’d hovered between waking and sleep, unable to cope with the former and unable to achieve the latter. 

The humans disturbing him had been irritating, but perhaps for the best. 

Regardless, none of his fellow Titans knew what it was to be the last, so they could not judge him for taking the child. Besides, her own family was likely dead. And if they weren’t, that meant they had walked away from the ruined city without their daughter. They had given up on her. 

(He could very well picture the look his Queen would give him had he said such a thing to her. Excuses, excuses, she’d probably say.)

Godzilla would never give up on his pup if something like that were to happen. He hadn’t ever even given up on his kindred. No one could claim him to be negligent or hard-hearted. 

And why was he even wasting so much energy on arguments that hadn’t happened, and weren’t likely to anytime soon? There was no one to justify himself to. His decision was final; his actions could not be undone. 

(Perhaps that was why: he would’ve suffered their disapproval if only it meant someone was there to disapprove.)

Knowing he’d been away from his new charge long enough, he turned to swim back to the islands, determined to clear his mind of the matter. He’d been lonely, he’d seen the chance to fill in the empty, aching hole in his very spirit, and he’d taken it—end of story. 

(So focused on what the other Titans might’ve thought, Godzilla rather overlooked the obvious issue of how the child—the child who he couldn’t properly speak to, the child who was in a strange place with a strange creature she likely knew very little about, the child who didn’t yet understand she wouldn’t be leaving the archipelago for a very long time—would react.)

With a clearer head and any doubt firmly pushed aside, Godzilla reentered the cove. He didn’t have to go far to find the girl.

She was standing in the shallows directly in front of the entrance to the hot springs’ cave. To his relief, she didn’t look distressed by his absence, though she smiled as he cut through the water towards her. 

He could see the improvement, with many of her cuts already on the way to fading, and the collection of bruises now just a shade or two darker than her skin rather than blooming black and blue. And the way she stood told him plenty about the lack of aching or weakness in her limbs. The hot springs had done their job. 

Even though both of them had spent several hours asleep, night was only just beginning to fall over the island. Godzilla knew he needed more rest, especially if he continued to prolong his return to the temple, and he couldn’t very well leave the child to wander around alone. Not yet. 

She laughed as the waves he caused splashed against her, nearly knocking her over. He scooped her up without protest on her part, and began the trek to his nest in the mountainous area above and beyond the hot spring cave. 

“You smell like fish,” the girl told him. She looked content in his palm, with her legs crossed. There was no nervousness in her scent. She didn’t fear falling or being crushed in his grip. “Are you gonna take me home now?” 

He snorted and shook his head. Communication, proper communication, would likely be the largest problem with the situation, he realized. Could humans even learn to understand him? 

Leaning up on her knees, the child peered over his claws towards the setting sun. “Oh,” she said. “That makes sense. Nighttime is for sleeping, not swimming. Tomorrow?” 

Again, he shook his head, just as he reached his nest. It was set into the side of a cliff, which provided cover from above, and was a simple crater he’d carved out for himself full of leaves and grass and feathers and any manner of soft things. He ducked into it and stretched out, partially on his side, partially on his stomach. 

He set the girl down in front of him, confident that with his back to the opening, there was no way for her to sneak past and get lost in the middle of the night. 

The many layers of padding barely sank beneath her light weight, and he smelled her surprise as she wiggled against the leaves. With a sigh, the girl tipped over and sprawled out, looking comically small in his Titan-sized nest. 

“So, not tomorrow either.” She picked up a blade of grass and folded it back and forth. “I bet ’cause you’re tired, right? I know I’d be tired if I had to fight like that.” She frowned. “Wasn’t very fair, two against one. But—you won, right? They’re gone?” 

Of course, she had no way of knowing the outcome, having been trapped as she was. Godzilla rumbled reassuringly and nodded as much as he could with his head on the ground. 

He received a beaming smile. “That’s good. So after you sleep a bunch or something, and you’re not super tired anymore, then we’ll go back?” 

Godzilla shook his head and thwapped his tail against the rocks at the edge of his nest. Even with how dark it was quickly becoming, he had no trouble seeing the little human. She stared over at him with some mixture of confusion and frustration. But not fear. Hopefully never fear.

Pouting, the girl hugged herself and half-rolled away. “I wish I could understand you,” she huffed. “Then you could explain what you mean.”

He hummed deep in his throat in agreement and kept his eyes open just long enough to watch her shoulders go slack with sleep. 

Chapter Text

Maddie was sure she was missing something. Though there was clearly a lot being lost in translation—something she’d heard her mom say a lot—she still had the feeling that something wasn’t quite right and she just wasn’t getting it. 

Dad had told her about gut instincts, the funny feelings you got sometimes when you were really sure about something but didn’t know why. He’d told her while holding her tight against his chest after a visit to the park. It hadn’t been a very good visit, though, because a man she didn’t know kept bothering her. 

Don’t talk to strangers, her parents had always told her. And never ever go with them, no matter what they say. They hadn’t really explained why but she trusted her mom and dad. 

She’d screamed as loud as she could when he had grabbed her arm and refused to let go. Your parents asked me to bring you to them wasn’t enough to convince her to follow him anywhere. 

They hadn’t gone back to the park for a really long time. 

That funny feeling she’d gotten as soon as the man first walked up to her was back, but Maddie didn’t feel... unsafe, like before. Just—something was wrong and she didn’t understand what. 

She frustratedly wished she could understand Godzilla even as she fell asleep in the surprisingly comfortable nest. She would have to try and get an answer out of him tomorrow. 

Maddie’s dreams began to haunt her as soon as she drifted off. It all came back to her—the way the cold, empty darkness pressed down on her while she’d been trapped, the way her voice had gone hoarse and scratchy while her throat burned from how much she’d shouted, the way the creaking, echoing silence had almost been worse than the terrible crashes and thundering booms and fearsome roars.  

She felt pinned where she lay, her arms trapped against her sides, her legs crushed against the ground. A pressure against her chest worsened with every passing minute until she struggled to take in wheezy breaths of air. 

All it had taken was one moment. One moment where her hand had slipped out of her dad’s when the world had seemed to explode around them. The ringing in her ears had deafened her, and the smoke’d sent her, coughing, to her knees. Rumbling, crumbling, roaring—distant, deep noises sent her scrambling out of the way of a collapsing building. 

Disoriented from the muffled sounds and the thick, hazy darkness, she’d been lost within moments. She had tried to run, tried to find her family in the lonely chaos, but when the street had burst open, had twisted and shattered—debris went flying, Maddie stumbled, and the earth opened below her. 

She’d screamed when the car smashed against the concrete, only an inch to spare between her prone body and certain crushing death. More wreckage had piled up around her resting place as a burning light had flared in the distance.

No one heard her. No one came for her. Maddie was left there, dazed and crying at first, screaming and struggling later, as the night passed. The sun had risen, hurting her eyes even through the lingering smoke, and then it set again. 

And she’d still been alone. She’d lost time after that, slipping in and out of exhausted semi-consciousness, as the adrenaline and panic and her injuries took their toll on her. When the sun had risen for the second time since her entrapment, she’d flinched away from the light. 

Maddie hadn’t ever felt like she did, laying there beneath the metal as it radiated heat against her, where no breeze could reach past the wall of debris. The closest she had been able to compare the ordeal to was when she was sick with a particularly nasty strain of the flu for a week and a half.

But back then, she’d had her mom and dad taking care of her, sitting with her as she tossed restlessly with fever, rubbing her back when her body rejected her meager attempts at eating, reassuring her that she’d be just fine soon enough. 

Left alone in the graveyard San Francisco had become, Maddie had been sure she wouldn’t have a chance to recover like she had from the flu. She hadn’t stopped trying to fight for her freedom, but she was only seven. Seven-year-olds couldn’t move cars. Fear and frustration and fatigue and hunger and despair had weighed heavily on her, and with those, there was no concrete to bear the terrible pressure. 

And that night, trapped within her own mind, it all came rushing back. 

Maddie moaned and whimpered in her sleep, and tears leaked down her cheeks as she thrashed her head back and forth without waking up. Her body remained rigid, remembering the claustrophobic confines of her tiny sanctuary. 

With a jolt like someone who dreamt they were falling and had hit the ground, she startled awake with a little cry. 

Her unfamiliar surroundings wrenched heavy sobs from her throat as she sat up and struggled to separate herself from her nightmare. The darkness was all-encompassing, and if it weren’t for the combination of soft ground beneath her and the lack of a car above her, she would’ve been sure she was still trapped in San Francisco. 

A warm breeze passed over her from behind. She whipped around and even with the bleariness of her tears obscuring her vision, she saw the two fire-bright eyes facing her. In a rush that stole the air from her lungs, she finally remembered being freed by Godzilla. 

Maddie kept crying. “I want my mom,” she whimpered. “I want…” 

She clutched at the soft down of the nest and desperately wished she was at home, where her mom could brush her hair away from where it stuck to her tear-streaked cheeks and her dad could wrap her up tight in his arms, the best defense against anything. Andrew would hover near the door—he always did, on the rare occasions a nightmare got the best of her—until their parents took their leave. He’d crawl into her bed and whisper, “Octopus mode,” before wrapping her up like he was a blanket determined to turn her into a burrito. 

There could be no better way to deal with bad dreams. Not that she’d ever seen. 

“Why can’t I go home?” she asked, suddenly needing to know. “I want my family, I need my family…” 

Godzilla only blinked slowly at her. She pulled her knees up and buried her face against them, hiccuping uncontrollably. Her whole face felt sticky from her tears and snot. She didn’t even have tissues or anything. For some reason, that thought invited a whole new bout of sobs. 

Her own question suddenly caught up to her, asked without thought in the middle of her distress. Why can’t I. She hadn’t meant to phrase it like that, had meant to ask when or maybe why can’t they go now, but—something clicked. The something she knew she’d been missing. 

“You… you aren’t going to take me back,” she said, dizzy with the intense mix of emotions coursing through her. “You’re not going to take me home.” Ever, she meant but couldn’t bring herself to say. 

The sound of him shifting made her look up. His eyes were the only real way she could see where his head was, and she watched them move in a way that had to be a nod. 

Maddie choked and shoved her head back down, pushing her tear-itchy eyes against her bare arm. She was still only wearing her t-shirt, having lacked pajamas to put on and knowing how uncomfortable it was to sleep in jeans. She had nothing here, nothing but the dirty, ripped clothes she’d been wearing when he took her. 

She angrily beat her fists against the nest’s floor. 

There was no telling how long Maddie sat there, upset and mad and aching for her parents. Eventually, when her tears had slowed and she was left with only taking gasping gulps of air, she sensed movement above her. 

Gentle despite his size, Godzilla’s hand carefully curled around her and pulled her across the nest so she was leaning against him. She didn’t have the strength to resist, not right then, drained and wrung out as she was. The rumbling that started up in his chest calmed her down a little, even though some part of her didn’t want it to. 

She still didn’t understand. Why would he keep her there? Why would he want to? But she was tired, so so tired, and his scales were warm. Maddie tried to fight sleep as it tugged at her again, but in the end, she was powerless to resist. 

This time, Maddie dreamed she was at home. She would remember nothing about it when she woke up. 

Chapter Text

Maddie woke with the first rays of the sun peeking over Godzilla’s bulky body. She rubbed her bleary, puffy eyes and vaguely recalled waking up from a nightmare hours earlier. Her face felt gross and she really needed to go to the bathroom. 

She silently stood and tiptoed away from Godzilla, who seemed to still be in a deep sleep. The hurt in her chest from her late-night realization, that he had no intention of taking her home, was still strong. She stuck her tongue out at him before creeping across the nest to his tail. 

His whole body blocked her from leaving the nest, but only if she wasn’t willing to go climbing for her freedom. Maddie’s bare toes dug into the softness beneath her as she scaled the small slope until she reached the final obstacle. 

Godzilla’s tail was big and just as spiny as his back. This turned out to work in her favor, since the way it was angled allowed her to grab the edges of the nearest spines and haul herself up. It was like climbing onto the kitchen counter or up onto a dock past the drop-off, where she couldn’t touch the ocean bottom anymore. 

The spines were small so far from his back, but then, so was she. Using them like shelves, she wiggled through the spaces between them until she could sit on the uppermost one. Her escape was made even easier by the texture of Godzilla’s skin, the rough bumps and ridges of scales serving as a perfect surface to get a grip on. 

Climbing trees was harder than climbing Godzilla. 

Maddie slid down the spine-free side of his twisted tail and landed without a peep on the bouncy edge of the nest. Godzilla’s deep, slow breathing never changed. Smothering a giggle with her hands, Maddie began to make her way down the rocky slope. It was a lot farther of a walk than she’d realized, since Godzilla had crossed it so quickly. She just counted herself lucky it wasn’t too steep.

She was tired again by the time she reached the shore of the cove, and really thirsty. With a sigh, Maddie plopped down in the sand and watched the gently rolling waves—ripples, really, for how small they were. 

Priorities. She mentally decided what was most important to her right now. Bathroom. Definitely bathroom, and while peeing in the ocean was fine… she sighed again. On TV, people always dug holes, which didn’t sound too bad in theory. A rock would have to do in place of a shovel, so with a groan, Maddie pushed herself up and began to follow the shore towards the volcano at the end opposite the bay’s entrance. There were loads of different sized stones over there. 

After this, water. Her mouth was painfully dry and her throat hurt a little, but that was probably from crying so much last night. She was pretty sure fruit would make do if she was desperate, but actual water sounded really, really good. 

She tried to remember some of the things her parents had talked about whenever they went camping. They always heard stories of kids disappearing into the woods, and even though she and Andrew promised they wouldn’t wander off alone like that, Mom and Dad still wanted to teach them how to stay alive until they were found. 

Crouching over a pile of flat-ish rocks, Maddie went still for a moment. She wasn’t trying to stay alive until someone found her. Probably no one even knew she was missing. Her parents, Andrew—they must think she was dead. Her entire chest ached.

Biting her lip to distract from the reminder that she was trapped here, on this beautiful, deserted archipelago, she picked up a rock and kept walking. Beyond the base of the volcano and across from the cave with the hot springs, was a forest. 

Maddie looked around as she went. The cove was surrounded by different sorts of terrain. If she stood at the mouth of the bay, which was entirely surrounded by sand, the volcano would be directly across from her. To her right would be the hot spring cave—and now that she was farther away from it, she could see how the mountains around and behind it stretched back from the cave itself. 

To her left would be a forest, which was her current destination. It was enormous and looked rather hilly, the trees going up and back until she couldn’t really tell where they stopped and started. She wondered if there was more land on the other side of the highest point she could see. 

Between the volcano and the forest, though, was a relatively small piece of land that made her shiver as she hurried by, arms wrapped around herself. The ground there was dead and black, with a thick mist crawling along it. The mist ended right at the edge of the burnt-looking earth, and the whole area was thrown in shadow by the volcano on one side and a cliff on the other, the top of which sported trees as part of the forest. 

It was strange and not natural at all, and Maddie was glad to pass by it. 

The cove and its surrounding land was enormous, just the right size for a creature like Godzilla. But for a tiny human, it took far longer than she expected to walk from one side to the other. The sun had risen higher since she’d woken, and now it was starting to emerge from above the mountains. 

Sun rises in the east, she thought, pausing to look toward it. That set the volcano on the north side of the cove, the forest at the west, and the hot springs and mountains the east. Not that it really helped her, knowing which part of the island was which direction. 

Maddie finally reached the tree line, and after taking a deep breath, she crossed from the soft sand into the grass. Almost immediately, she became distracted from her original intention in going there. She felt a bit like she’d stepped through a certain magic wardrobe or something, or had otherwise managed to wander into a fairytale. 

The trees were tall and strong and all different types. Many bore fruit, some like what Godzilla had given her yesterday—which was one less thing she had to worry about—and some all new kinds. The sunlight filtered through the brightly-colored leaves, in greens and reds and yellows and oranges. There was even a deep purple-y hue, and a happy shade of pink. She laughed aloud as she passed beneath them, wondering what sort of trees they were. 

She barely noticed she was barefoot from how soft and springy the grass and underlying dirt was. Moss and vines crept along tree trunks, and eventually, bushes and ferns began to dot the spaces between them. They were hard to spot, but she could hear the sounds of birds and animals all around her. 

It made her feel better, feel less alone. A tiny bird, small enough to sit in her palm, flew above her. She wasn’t the smallest creature on this island, and for some reason, she nearly started crying again at the thought. 

Her belly rumbled loudly before she could get too upset, reminding her wandering wasn’t what she was there for. 

The less said about her first-ever attempt to dig a makeshift toilet, the better. It was over and done with, and Maddie very much didn’t look forward to the next time. 

It was further into the trees, though not so far she couldn’t see the beach if she looked hard enough, that she found the little spring. It burbled quietly, forming a shallow waterhole a little smaller than a plastic kiddie pool. Tiny trickling streams branched off it, vanishing down the slight, grassy incline it was set on. 

Maddie remembered playing on the more deserted stretches of beach with her brother and some mixture of their friends. They’d act like they’d been shipwrecked and would spend hours playing make-believe survival. All they could use was what they had with them when they swam to shore—boogie-boards, most often, and the occasional beach toy—and what they found around them. 

This wasn’t make-believe, or an afternoon’s worth of fun with Andrew, or something she could stop playing whenever she wanted to go ask her parents for a snack. This was real, and she was trapped, and her only company apart from the chirping birds and whatever was skittering around in the bushes was Godzilla. 

But pretending like it was a game made it a little less scary, so Maddie pretended like Andrew had asked her to find some way to carry water, some way to best drink from the spring without dunking her entire face into it. She didn’t want to make it gross. 

She returned to the freshwater a few minutes later with a big, thick, almost bowl-shaped leaf. After double-checking it for holes and feeling satisfied at the lack of them, she held it carefully by the edges and dipped it into the water. 

Her chest felt near to bursting with her sense of accomplishment when she managed to drink the water from the leaf without spilling any on herself. 

“Take that,” she told the universe at large. 

After drinking her fill, Maddie set the leaf by the spring and weighed it down with a few pebbles. She even made sure the stem was pointing in the direction of the tree she’d pulled it from, in case she needed a new one next time. 

“Food,” she decided, standing with her hands on her hips, looking up at a branch laden with the same fruit as she’d had yesterday. It was the only kind she knew for certain was safe to eat. 

She’d thought earlier that Godzilla had been easier to climb than a tree, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t good at climbing trees. This particular one had plenty of thick branches which split off closer to the ground than others. It was still a massive tree, though, and she couldn’t help but wonder if it would’ve grown differently in an orchard or something. 

Perched pretty high up, in a comfortable little ‘v’ in the branches, Maddie had just dropped the pit from her first fruit when a powerful roar split the peaceful morning. She glared in the direction it came from, and stuck out her tongue at its unseen source before taking an angry bite of her next fruit. 

Let him find her, she decided. She wasn’t moving from this tree until she was done with her breakfast. Maddie kicked her feet, not at all bothered by how high off the ground she was, or by the second roar echoing across the cove. Let him come. 

Chapter Text

The nest was empty.

This thought, sluggish with sleep and formed through bleary observation, woke him up quicker than the bright sunlight or his rumbling stomach or the aching weakness of his internal fire. 

Godzilla carefully sat up in case he’d missed the little human somehow, in case she was tucked out of sight or too well-hidden amongst his scales. But no, no, he was alone in the nest and the island was large, even for a creature of his size. Though much of it didn’t pose a threat to a human, some areas did. And without knowing how long she’d been gone, there was no telling how far she’d wandered. 

He roared, in frustration and panic and worry. He should’ve known better—she’d been upset when she’d realized he had no intention of taking her back to the humans—and he should’ve expected a reaction like this. 

When he’d been just a pup, wasn’t slinking away right out from his parents’ snouts one of his chosen methods of silently expressing his displeasure with something they’d done? 

Godzilla roared again as he set off for the cove, this time if only to try to get himself under control before finding the girl. Growling fiercely at a Titan when they drew his ire was one thing—they could give as good as they got, for the most part, and settling things with a play-fight always helped ease tensions—but doing the same at a little human would be nothing but threatening. 

There was a line between him and the child he’d taken, one he’d have to be more cautious of approaching. It’d be too easy to hurt her by accident, whereas she would be hard-pressed to injure him. 

The beach was empty all the way around the cove, but tiny footprints not yet washed away showed him the path she’d taken. He followed it, circling around the north end of the bay in a fraction of the time it would’ve taken her. 

She was in a tree. There was a half-eaten fruit in one hand and the other was held out, twisting this way and that. The child paid no attention to his approach, instead choosing to poke at the faint remnants of her injuries with a confused frown. Perhaps she had only just noticed how quickly they were healing. 

Godzilla huffed as he came to a stop at the edge of the forest’s tree line. Her perch was high enough to poke above the shorter trees littering the slight incline hers stood at the top of. Even then, the branch she’d chosen didn’t even reach his stomach, and he was standing on the flat beach at the base of the hill. 

The girl looked up at him, smelling of defiant anger. He wanted to be angry in turn, to growl at her for leaving the nest. But he couldn’t be, because there were two other emotions lingering alongside her young fury. There was distress, clear as anything, and there was something else, something harder to identify. It laid between worry and fear. 

“I’m mad at you,” she announced loudly. 

He grumbled but inclined his head nonetheless. He was well aware. 

She looked down at the fruit. “But I don’t understand,” she said, quieter, like she was imparting a secret. “I don’t get it. Why’d you take me?” Her eyes were wet with tears when she turned back to him. 

Because I am old and lonely, and you weren’t afraid of me, he answered, even though she couldn’t hope to understand his grunts and rumbles. 

The girl made a frustrated noise and gave her breakfast her full attention. “You’re not stupid!” she suddenly yelled, leaning forward. “You keep nodding and you make noises like you’re answering me and you held me like you knew I could be hurt so you can’t be stupid!” She thumped her leg against one side of her branch, the closest she could get to stomping her foot. 

“But you took me! And that’s bad, Mom and Dad said so, it’s bad when strangers try and make you go with them and I don’t get it because you, you saved me and that’s a good thing but you won’t take me home and that’s a bad thing but you’re not like that guy in the park. He scared me and made my stomach feel funny! So why don’t you?” She threw the fruit-pit at him as her voice rose at the end, but it fell into the trees between them. 

Her fists bunched up as she breathed heavily. “You’re good, aren’t you?” she asked once she’d calmed down a bit. “You fought the other monsters and they were hurting people, right? That makes you good.” 

I’m not good, he told her. If I was good, I’d take you back. 

It would be easy. There were cities on coasts where he could leave her, places where she could be found and taken home like she wanted. He could go to his underwater temple and sleep until he was recharged, his internal fire stoked and roaring again. And then he could wander the ocean, hunt delicious sea creatures, avoid humanity. Just as he had for so long. 

But how could he go back to that when there was a voice other than his own breaking the island’s pressing silence? 

I am not human, he said, but I think even your kind would understand. You cannot stand to be alone. Neither can I, not any longer. Perhaps that makes me neither good nor bad, but weak. 

She narrowed her tiny, bright eyes at him. There was no guessing what she was taking his vocalizations to mean, what was going through her head. 

“You sound sad.” The child crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. “But if you feel bad for bringing me here, why can’t you take me home? I just—I’m so confused!” she cried. “And I’ll never ever know because I can’t understand you!” 

You will, in time. 

“Take me back to my family, please?” 

Godzilla shook his head. She threw her hands up in an exasperated gesture she must’ve gotten from an adult. 

“They probably think I’m—” She went still for a moment, cutting her words off as something seemed to occur to her. Fresh tears welled up even faster than before. “Unless they…” The little human looked up at him, looking petrified with fear for the first time. “What if they died?” she whispered, and Godzilla’s heart seemed to skip a beat at the trembling emotion in her voice. 

“I thought—but what if they didn’t make it? What if they got smushed or something, like I almost was? Andrew and… they might be gone.” 

The likelihood of her parents and, apparently, her brother not having survived the battle had occurred to him earlier. He rumbled, offering comfort and condolences in the only way he could. 

She sniffled for a bit, no doubt imaging the worst. Godzilla waited patiently for her to speak again. 

Finally, she told him, “I want to keep being mad at you. You deserve it, I think. But it’s hard to be angry all the time. And I don’t want to be. And I’m s’posed to be nice to my hosts, even if I don’t want to be there.” Her face contorted with frustration. “I dunno. I’m tired. And everything’s—” she tapped herself on her forehead— “all messy.” 

She closed her eyes and sighed. “Maybe I’ll be mad at you some other day.”

The child’s shoulders raised and lowered as she slowly took a deep breath and let it out. Opening her eyes, she shifted forward on the branch, so more of her legs dangled freely, so high above the ground for someone her size. 

Godzilla reached out his hand, slowly and expecting rejection. But she didn’t huff and turn away. Instead, she hopped off the branch to stand in his palm, looking so tiny and fragile there, he briefly loathed himself for being so willing to subject her to a life like his. 

Had Mothra been there to smack him with one of her powerful wings, he would’ve held still so she could do so twice. It’d been a selfish choice to take the child, but even the thought of letting her go now felt akin to poison fangs tearing through him. 

Titans help him, he wouldn’t go back to the loneliness. To the silence. To the time when every moment he spent awake was one spent in a woundless pain—a pain that shed no blood and left no scar but ached like something was broken all the same. 

He’d make it up to her. Protect her, care for her, give her what she needed to be happy. But he wouldn’t let her go. He couldn’t. 

Godzilla wished he could say that, all of it. Apologize, explain, promise her all he could give her. But he couldn’t. Not yet. 

So he rumbled deeply instead—gentle and soft, things that didn’t come easily to him but that he was determined to be, for her sake—and bent his head to his raised hand, and he carefully touched the end of his snout to the top of his tiny human child’s head. 

And she didn’t say it, but he smelled it on her—the remaining anger slipped away, the sadness and anxiety lessening, replaced by the sweeter note of forgiveness and something close to happiness. It would be difficult, he knew, and there would probably be some days (perhaps many) when she would long for her home and rekindle her frustration at him. 

He would take it. Selfish and lonely, a creature who was once looked upon as a god, he would take all the days—the happy ones and the sad ones and the angry ones—and he would cherish the second heartbeat joining his on the island. 

Godzilla pulled away and hoped he didn’t look too fearsome. He needn’t have worried. 

With a fresh light in her eyes, the girl smiled up at him and said, “I’ve heard my parents talk about you before. You’re Godzilla! And I’m Maddie! And I forgot to say thank you for saving me, which is pretty rude, so thank you!” 

Maddie, he repeated, saying the child’s name for the first time. Even his rumble sounded remorseful as he told her, I’m sorry, Maddie. 

It didn’t matter if she couldn’t understand him. Someday, she would. And he would apologize then too. For taking her choice away, for taking her from her family—and hopefully, she would reach for him as she was now. 

He obligingly lowered his head again and felt her tiny presence press against his snout. A hug. 

Godzilla closed his eyes and reveled in the silence broken by her breathing, by the little giggle he heard in response to the purring rumble he couldn’t contain, by her heartbeat. 

And he relaxed, knowing he wasn’t alone. 

Chapter Text

Andrew Russell was twelve years old when his little sister died. 

The first week after leaving the ruins of San Francisco behind felt like a dream, one he couldn’t wait to wake up from. They’d returned to their home in Boston, and it just felt too quiet. Maddie’s bedroom door stayed closed, and it was almost easy to pretend she was sitting inside. 

But she wasn’t. 

Andrew felt like he’d lost a limb he hadn’t been aware of, until now that it was gone. There was no one standing beside him, sneaking up behind him, giggling with him, chasing him or being chased by him. On the third day after they’d arrived, he realized he hadn’t said a word since boarding the plane. 

There was no one for him to talk to. 

It was a toss-up, if you asked him, over which of their—his—parents was taking it worse. Dad went from being silent and slumped on the couch, a beer bottle dangling from his fingers, to pacing and crying and yelling, mostly at himself. 

He said things like if only I hadn’t let go and why didn’t I realize sooner. He blamed himself as much as Godzilla. The only time he ever got violent was the one time a news channel showed a clip of Godzilla, and Dad hurled an empty bottle at the TV screen, shouting horrible names as he did. 

Sometimes, Andrew woke up in the middle of the night to his door creaking open as his dad tiptoed and sat on the edge of his bed. He’d hold Andrew against his chest and cry. 

Andrew knew a lot of kids who were either a Daddy’s Girl or a Momma’s Boy, or the other way around. He’d always known he and Maddie had been both. Dad would take them to baseball games and would romp around the house with them and show them how their car worked, both of them standing on chairs to see inside the hood. 

Mom would whisper their secret family recipes in their ears, pancake batter on all of their faces, and show them how to build a fire in the woods and work through all the big words in her science books. 

Dad helped them with math and reading homework, Mom helped them with science and geography. It took both of them to work through history, because they tried to act some of it out, which usually just made him and Maddie get distracted with laughing too much. 

So it wasn’t that Dad was taking Maddie’s… death… harder than Mom was. Andrew knew that their—his—parents loved each of them as much as the other. But Maddie was the baby of the family, always had been and, as Mom used to say while smushing Maddie’s cheeks together, always would be. 

It didn’t matter that Maddie could climb trees faster than him, or that she’d knocked an older boy down for picking on her, or that she’d disassembled and reassembled their remote control car when she was bored only a month ago. It didn’t matter that Andrew thought Maddie was—had been—super smart and could probably be Queen of the World one day if she wanted (some people thought he was just being nice when he said that, but they obviously hadn’t seen the way Maddie convinced her entire class and teacher and principal that they obviously needed a class pet). It didn’t matter that Maddie was one of Andrew’s favorite people ever. She was still the baby of the family.

She didn’t—hadn’t—minded. 

If Dad was angry and devastated, and Andrew was numb and lonely, then Mom was just… empty. She’d gone quiet like Andrew had, but it felt different, like she wasn’t even there anymore. Mom just sort of stared in front of her as if she wasn’t seeing anything. She stayed in bed a lot, holding one of Maddie’s favorite stuffed animals to her chest. 

She looked a little dead, inside and out. 

That first week, the never-ending nightmare, seemed to last an eternity. Andrew kept waking up with thoughts of what he and Maddie could do that day, only to feel like he’d had a building dropped on him when he remembered she wasn’t there anymore. 

The worst was waking up from a dream with Maddie in it, a memory, and forgetting that it was a lie. 

Andrew, on the tenth morning since Maddie’s death, went from playing with his sister in his head to the shock of reality, and stumbled downstairs with a new feeling inside him beside the numbness. 

Dad was sitting at the kitchen table, head in his hands. Mom was nowhere in sight. Andrew stood beside his dad, who looked and smelled like he hadn’t showered in a little too long, and took a deep breath. 

“If Maddie were here,” he said quietly, “I think she’d try to make breakfast herself, and she’d call the rest of us useless, probably, and throw toast at us when we weren’t looking.” 

Dad turned his head to look at him with bloodshot, puffy eyes. Maybe he’d dreamt about Maddie too. 

“I think she’d be mad,” Andrew continued, even softer. “Because all we’re doing is killing ourselves.” 

He watched his dad’s face crumple as he leaned over to pull Andrew against him. It hurt to say, maybe as much as it hurt his dad to hear, but he was sure he was right. His parents needed a reminder to keep living, and even though it maybe wasn’t fair to him, Andrew would be that reminder. 

“I miss her,” he whispered into his dad’s shirt. “I want her back, I want to see her again, but—”

“She’s gone,” Dad finished for him. “I’m sorry, bud. I’m so so sorry. It’s not right for us to forget about you when you’re right here.”

“I don’t blame you, Dad.” And he meant it in all ways. He didn’t blame him for falling into devastation—because hadn’t they all?—and he didn’t blame him for losing Maddie. The explosions, the panic, the screaming, the smoke, he wasn’t sure how he’d managed to keep his hand in Mom’s the whole time they were running. 

His dad choked and buried his face against the top of Andrew’s head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. We’ll get through this, bud. I swear, we will.” 

And Andrew knew they would. Lots of people did, all the time, and at their own pace. He’d just been afraid his parents would destroy themselves before ever getting the chance to start healing. 

He didn’t want to have to be strong for his parents. In a lot of ways, he didn’t know how to be. But if his dad needed a reason to keep from drinking, or his mom needed a reason to get out of bed, then he could be it. For them. And, in a way, for Maddie. 

• • •

Madison Russell was seven years old when she convinced herself her family was dead. 

But as long as she never knew for sure, she could perhaps pretend otherwise. The island was teeming with life, and Godzilla was actually a lot of fun to be around when she wasn’t mad at him. He distracted her from the despair that wrapped around her at night, as she imagined going home to Boston to find dark, empty, cold rooms. 

Maybe they were okay. Or maybe one or two or all of them were dead. 

Like a child too afraid to peek under the bed in case a monster lay in wait, Maddie didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to peek. 

Maybe Godzilla thought the same. Maybe he thought she had no one to go home to. 

So she cried, remembering that horrible night, and wondered if a car had landed on them too, but without a crack for them to fall in. She’d heard so many screams. Had any of them belonged to her family?

She rubbed her tear-streaked cheeks and looked away from the starry sky, up to Godzilla’s bright eyes watching her where she was curled up on his chest. It was easier to think this was an adventure, that her family was fine and waiting to someday hear her stories. 

Maddie would make sure they were good ones. 

Chapter Text

The sounds of Godzilla beginning to move around gently drew Maddie out of sleep, as they had every day for the past week. He was her own personal alarm clock, and she could only be thankful he wasn’t an early riser, or she probably would’ve been a lot grumpier in the mornings. 

She sat up and rubbed her eyes, grumbling a little to herself over how gross she felt. It was probably time for her to take a bath in the hot springs again. The water there always made her feel clean in a way the Cove couldn’t. But only after she got her breakfast from the Forest. 

The Cove, the Forest, the Mountains, the Meadow. She’d started thinking of them as real names. It was like summer camp, where everyone said things like I’m going to the Lake or I'm staying in the Cabins. When she bothered to stop and think about it, she kinda felt like she was actually at summer camp. There was a loose routine, she was becoming familiar with the layout of the ‘campgrounds,’ and she had little adventures that were always different in some way from the last. 

Maddie hitched a ride on Godzilla’s palm once they were both ready. The path down to the Cove from his nest wasn’t too steep, and as long as she was wearing her shoes, it didn’t hurt, but it was quite a walk for someone her size. 

“Thanks!” she called up at him as he deposited her on the beach in front of the Forest. He rumbled back before sinking into the water so he could lazily swim around while she found breakfast. Godzilla never went far right after they woke up. 

If there was one thing she’d learned about him since he brought her here, it was how protective he was. He never let her too close to the volcano—which was actually quite reasonable—and he put up a fuss as soon as she wandered too deep into the Forest for his taste. The Cliff and the creepy bit of land below it, where it was always misty, were as off-limits as he could convey with growls and the way he physically put his body between her and those areas whenever she stared at them too long. 

“Hm,” she said to herself, staring up at some pinkish-red fruits hanging above her. “You don’t look familiar.” Regardless, Maddie quickly scaled the trunk, because how else was she going to try something new? 

After getting a drink of spring water and taking care of business, Maddie left the Forest with a small armful of the unfamiliar fruits. 

“Godzilla!” she called as she skipped down to the water’s edge. “Can I eat these?” 

He blew a big bubble at her with his nose as he glided over, making her giggle. He examined the fruit with a plainly critical eye, just as he did every time she asked if something was okay to eat. It made her feel warm inside to know he cared enough about her to focus so intently on keeping her from getting sick. Finally, he made a noise deep in his throat and nodded. 

She plopped down in the sand, out of reach of the lapping waves, and began to use trial and error to determine how best to eat this new fruit. 

Godzilla watched her for a little while before grumbling and tossing his head toward the Cove’s exit. She gave him a thumbs up, her mouth full of the sweet yet tart insides. He rumble-laughed as he swam away. Maddie waved goodbye before swiping at the sticky trail of juice trickling down her chin. 

He’d be back soon, once he’d caught his own breakfast. Maddie closed her eyes and leaned back, enjoying the silence mingling with faint sounds of nature. 

It was probably one of the few things she liked about the island better than home—it’d always been so noisy and smelly and crowded, but here, it was so peaceful. And the stars! She could see more stars than she’d ever thought existed here. 

Maddie smiled as she started on her second fruit, remembering the first time she’d noticed how bright the night sky was. She’d bounced around the ridge outside Godzilla’s nest, babbling in excitement over how pretty it was. He had a hard time getting her to go to sleep that night, she recalled with a little huff of laughter. 

Once she was finished, Maddie made a neat little pile with the seeds and leftovers. She headed off to the springs, knowing some creature or another would make a meal out of what she’d left. 

The sun was bright and warm, climbing higher in the sky, just as it’d been every day. “It’s gotta rain sometime though,” she thought aloud. She grinned at the thought of a good lightning storm. She loved those. 

Just inside the cave’s entrance, Maddie crouched down to check on a little nook in the wall, where a pile of black stones shot through with shifting red-gold lines sat. She had no idea what they were, or what they were doing there, because no way a Titan could use something so human-sized, but Godzilla had shown them to her the first time he came back with a couple fish for her. 

If she touched a branch to the stones for a few seconds, the branch caught fire. Simple as that, like magic. Maddie didn’t dare touch them herself, wary of being burned, so they remained exactly where they’d been from the start. 

She hummed to herself, a song she remembered from the radio, though the words were lost, as she sat down beside the really big pool to pull off her shoes. It was more fun to splash around in than one of the tiny ones, even though she was pretty sure Godzilla didn’t really like it when she swam on her own. 

Tough, she liked swimming too much to only do it when he was around. Maddie was good—she’d been allowed to go in the deep ends of pools for ages without floaties—and she knew when she got too tired to keep going. She wasn’t stupid. 

She wore her shirt into the hot springs if only because it was the easiest way to keep it clean. Mom always shook her head over how quickly Maddie managed to get her clothes dirty. It wasn’t her fault it was hard to think about staying clean when she was having fun. 

Maddie took a deep breath and ducked underwater. She swam downwards, though no matter how far she went, she couldn’t see the bottom. This was Godzilla’s pool, after all, and he was huge. She returned to the surface for another breath before pushing along the pool’s rocky wall. This, as she’d discovered her first time in this particular one, was where the light came from. 

Little lines like veins trailed through the stone, glowing brightly. She liked tracing them. They had an oddly glassy texture, all smooth and somehow cool in the warm water. 

Maddie sang the theme song from one of her favorite TV shows as she climbed out of the hot spring and picked up her discarded clothing. No point in putting pants and shoes on when she was still wet. 

She dropped them by the cave’s entrance so she wouldn’t forget where she’d left them, and ran out over the sand. Though going to the Meadow was tempting—it was her favorite place to explore—the thought of having some fish prevented her from leaving the beach. 

She kicked water in the shallows and gave a shout of delight when she spotted a group of giant sea turtles close by. Giant to her, at least, she thought with a giggle. They were pipsqueaks compared to Godzilla. 

Maddie knelt down next to one of them and said, “Hi!”

The turtle blinked back at her but made no move to leave. So far, the animals she’d met on the island all fell into one of two categories: friendly enough to allow her close, sometimes even to touch them, or too wary to even let her see them for more than a split second. 

None of them had been mean at all, which was great, because Maddie really liked animals and wasn’t sure she’d be any good at avoiding them. 

The turtle allowed her to skim her hand over his pretty shell. She watched one in the water surface with a length of seaweed in its mouth. Even though she’d just taken the equivalent of a bath, Maddie hopped up and waded into the Cove. She didn’t have to go far for the seaweed, and she shook her wet hair out of her face as she splashed back onto the beach. 

Sitting back down by her turtle friend, she offered him the seaweed. He eyed it for a few seconds before stretching his head forward and closing his mouth around the end. Munching methodically, her turtle friend raised one of his front flippers and thumped it down into the sand. 

“You’re welcome,” she said. With one last pat to his head, Maddie stood up and ran back toward the hot spring cave. She found a smooth stone on her way and tried to skip it, but she only got two hops out of it before it plunked into the water. 

“Andrew would’ve gotten more,” she said with a sigh. 

Feeling hungrier, Maddie decided to get a little fire going so she’d be able to cook one of the fish Godzilla would bring back for her right away. She’d had mixed results so far, often cooking them a little too long, but she hadn’t gotten sick yet, so she remained optimistic. 

Godzilla’s spines slowly emerged from the ocean as he entered the Cove, and Maddie looked up from the neat pile of sticks she’d gathered to smile at him as he approached. 

Chapter Text

He couldn’t afford to put off recharging any longer. Loath as he was to leave Maddie on her own, there was no way for him to bring her to the temple and if he waited any longer, he would begin to suffer the consequences. Though the hot springs had done much to heal his injuries, he would always be at less than full health until he could surround himself with radiation. 

Maddie seemed to be adjusting well. Godzilla could only hope a day or so alone wouldn’t ruin the happiness she so often showed. 

In preparation, he made sure to catch more fish than usual, so she wouldn’t have to worry about running out. By now, she recognized a variety of the island’s fruits, so he had no worry of her starving. 

No, he was worried about something going wrong in his absence. Maddie knew, to some extent, the healing properties of the hot springs, so most injuries and, he suspected, simple illnesses could be easily taken care of. There weren’t many creatures on the island both capable of and with a mind to hurt the girl, so the chances of her being attacked were reassuringly low. 

The other islands in the archipelago were a different story, but there was no easy way for either Maddie to reach them or the creatures on them to reach her. And it would stay that way for a long time, if he had any say in things. 

Logically, Godzilla knew there wasn’t all that much that could truly go wrong in such horrible ways as his mind was conjuring up. But his worry persisted regardless. 

Rather irrationally, his largest fear in leaving her alone was that Maddie would somehow manage to leave entirely. That he would return and find no trace of her, and he would be left to wonder what had happened in his absence, whether she had escaped or been taken or worse. 

As Godzilla returned to the Cove and spotted Maddie waiting for him, he growled at himself. No matter how much he didn’t want to go—to leave—he had to. Recharging was nonnegotiable, as it always had been. His body needed it as he needed food and water and rest.

The only question now was how he would communicate his intentions to the girl. 

Propping himself up while remaining mostly in the water, Godzilla leaned over and opened his mouth. A sizable pile of fish tumbled out and flopped onto the beach a safe distance from Maddie. 

He watched her stare at the wriggling heap for a long moment before she turned toward him, her face screwed up in displeasure and confusion. 

“Are you leaving?” she asked. 

Well, that made things somewhat easier. How she’d gotten that from the fish, he’d never know. Godzilla nodded and huffed a short breath out. 

“But… not for long?” she guessed, tilting her head to one side. 

He nodded again and slid back in the water on his stomach, so his head was closer to the ground. Carefully nudging her with his snout, Godzilla rumbled. He wasn’t leaving her for good.

I’ll be back soon, he promised, even though she couldn’t understand him. A day, two at most. 

He was not so badly off after the battle to need long. The hot springs’ healing certainly ensured he wouldn’t require the radiation to do more than refill his chest with his burning star-fire. His internal heat was simmering lowly, but once restored, would do well on its own. There was seldom a need for it anyway, not on this island. Not for a long time. 

(Godzilla determinedly didn’t think about play-fights with his kindred, or showing off among them, or the celebrations that he and a few others would light up with their breath and wings and eyes. There was nothing like that to be had when his kindred were all asleep.) 

“For a week?” Maddie asked with a little wince. His resolve to leave took a hit at the obvious reluctance she had about being alone. 

He shook his head. 

“Longer?” she asked, her voice very quiet. 

Her entire body seemed to brighten up with relief when he shook his head again. 

“Shorter, that’s good. A few days?” 

Godzilla lifted his head with a short roar before settling himself back down within reach of his little human. 

“Okay,” Maddie said. She took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, I can deal with that. You promise not to be gone long?” 

He blew a gentle stream of air at her in answer, just to see her laugh even as she complained about his smelly breath. 

Stay out of trouble, he begged her. Stay safe. 

Perhaps his vocalizations sounded as desperate as he felt, because he felt her lean deliberately against his snout. 

“I’ll be fine, promise. I mean,” and she moved around until she could peek at his eyes around his own scales, showing him a very sneaky smile on her face, “how much trouble can I really get into?” 

He almost would’ve believed she understood his plea, but he was already well familiar with her ever-present sense of curiosity. With how many times he’d had to head her off from the volcano, he knew it wasn’t that she understood his actual words, but more of how much she understood where his mind inevitably lead him, based on her own habits. 

Very reassuring, he sighed. Though it’s concerning that we both came to the same conclusion so quickly. Godzilla sent a glare at the volcano. He raised his tail and thwapped it loudly against the water’s surface. 

Maddie laughed. “Fine, I guess I won’t try to climb the volcano while you’re gone.” 

He could live with that. 

It’d be best if he left now, since the sooner he arrived at the temple, the sooner he could return to the island. But he just couldn’t make himself move away from the beach. 

What if Maddie fell from a tree and couldn’t make it on her own to the hot springs? What if she tried to traverse the mountains in the dark and got lost? What if she ventured too close to the Cliff? 

The worry and anxiety twisting up his insides was mostly foreign to Godzilla. Perhaps he would feel a twinge of apprehension in battle, or concern if one of his kindred managed to badly hurt themself. But he felt nearly sick with the thought of all that could possibly go wrong while he was gone, no matter how unlikely each scenario was. 

Frowning, Maddie stood up. “You’re really worried, aren’t you?” she said, sounding a little surprised. “I promise to be careful.” She offered him a smile. “I’ve been doing pretty good so far, right?” 

She had been, certainly. 

“You’re worse than my dad,” she said with a snicker. “Just go already. Won’t be any easier in an hour or two.” 

When he still didn’t move, Maddie very dramatically rolled her eyes, such that he could see her exasperation quite clearly. With exaggerated cheer, she said, “Goodbye, Godzilla, see you in a few days!” and turned around to go pick a fish to make into a snack. 

Very pointedly, she didn’t look back at him, even though he could smell her own uneasiness at being left alone. But she was right. With a last rumble of farewell, he slowly returned fully to the water and began to swim to the series of reefs separating the Cove from the ocean. 

Just as he passed through the exit, he lifted his head and looked back. Maddie was watching, he could tell quite clearly, and when she saw him facing her, she raised an arm and waved wildly. 

He roared over his shoulder before diving out of sight, knowing if he lingered any longer, he’d manage to talk himself out of going. 

• • • 

Godzilla reached the temple through the underwater tunnels in good time. As he settled in to rest, he tried not to imagine what Maddie was doing. 

He wasn’t sure if it had started to grow dark on the island yet, but if it had, he hoped she wouldn’t wait too long to make the hike up to their nest. If she was already up there, then she’d likely already made the day’s tally mark. 

It was something she’d started the day she’d made her first fire. Maddie had taken a burning branch all the way up to the nest, where—after he’d helped her in without setting the whole thing ablaze—she’d carefully burned a long section of the stone wall until it was charred black. 

Now, each night, she made a little tally mark by smudging away the soot, one for each day she’d been on the island. 

It had become a little ritual of sorts, as she would kneel down at the wall to do it, and she would remain quiet for a few minutes after making the new mark. Godzilla would always be careful not to move while she was lost in thought. 

He often wondered, though, what it was she was thinking of. Something that had occurred that day? What she might have been doing if she and her family were all alive and well and at home together? A memory, perhaps? She was fond of telling stories about her family, mentioning them in passing throughout the day. 

It was good for her to remember them, so if they were who Maddie was thinking of during her nightly tally mark ritual, then he would never interrupt her, never distract her. 

Someday he would be able to tell her stories of his own family of sorts, and he could only hope she would continue to do the same. 

Chapter Text

Maddie had been left home alone before. Most of the time, Andrew was left with her, but once or twice, she’d had the house to herself for a little while. Mom and Dad had very carefully explained they would only keep doing it if they knew they could trust her and Andrew to act responsibly. 

That meant not eating all the cookies or watching the movies she wasn’t really allowed to yet, and it meant brushing her teeth at bedtime if they still weren’t back by then. It meant not breaking the windows or tracking mud over the carpet or bringing stray cats inside. 

Mostly, Maddie knew, it meant following all the same rules, just without an adult reminding her of them. And since her motivation was keeping her parents from being mad or disappointed in her, she’d never had too much trouble. 

So really, it was practically the same as being left alone on the island. Godzilla would be upset if she got herself into trouble, and since getting into trouble sometimes involved being hurt, Maddie had no interest in getting into trouble.  

At least, not without a really good reason. 

She proudly stayed responsible for the rest of the day. After her snack, she wandered into the Forest just because and got a drink while she was at it. Maddie followed the sounds of chirping to a nest built in the branches high above her. 

Curious, she climbed an adjacent tree to take a peek without getting too close. It wouldn’t be nice of her to scare the momma bird. Sitting on a thick branch of her own, Maddie swung her bare feet back and forth as she watched the nest. A pair of babies, not newborns from the look of them, raised their wings and gave them test flaps. 

Both chicks were covered in soft-looking bright blue feathers. Maybe when they were older, she could try convincing them to let her pet them. She could use berries or something to bribe them, right? 

The momma bird returned to the nest a few minutes later, her feathers a shiny, darker blue. Maddie watched her greet her babies and feed them before climbing back down the tree. 

She spent most of the afternoon jumping around in the Cove’s shallows and diving down into the colorful beds of seaweed. Dinner was eventually cooked, and after staring out at the ocean for a little while, half-hoping Godzilla wouldn’t really be gone as long as he said he would, Maddie realized the sun was beginning to set. 

The thought of the hike up to the nest almost made her decide not to go, and instead sleep on the beach or in the hot springs cave. But the longer she imagined staying all by herself out in the open in the dark, though, the less daunting the trek up into the Mountains seemed. Before the sun could go down much further and leave her stranded on the beach, Maddie set out for Godzilla’s nest. 

It was worth it, she decided once she’d sat down near her tally marks. It felt much safer here, even though she hadn’t met anything all that dangerous yet. With a yawn, she dragged her finger through the soot, leaving the eleventh line on the wall. 

Maddie fell asleep easily after that, despite the absence of warmth in the nest. 

She dreamt. 

Kneeling on the back of the sea turtle she’d met just that day, only he was now truly enormous, she peered over the edge of his shell into the ocean, which was completely and entirely clear, no matter how deep it was. She could see the colorful reefs along the bottom, too far down for her to ever even hope to visit. 

Fish swam in shining groups, twisting and changing directions all together, like a dance. A pod of whales slowly circled each other off in the distance, and Maddie watched a shark pass deep beneath her and the turtle. Rainbow jellyfish caught the light like crystals, turning the water around them different colors. 

A few smaller turtles with similar shell patterns splashed around the one she sat on. “Is that your family?” she asked. Kelpie, whose name she suddenly, inexplicably knew, raised his head out of the water and dipped it back down in a nod. 

Maddie was quite content on Kelpie’s back, watching the ocean creatures as if they existed on another world entirely. She looked around. The sky was dark but it was still bright out. There were no stars or moon or sun. Just an emptiness that somehow didn’t frighten her. 

Kelpie continued onward at a slow, steady pace. The surface of the water rippled when Maddie dipped her fingers into it, but otherwise remained still and perfect. 

A terrible swoop in her stomach made her glance over her shoulder. A creature she’d never seen before bobbed along the water behind her and Kelpie. It was a sickly gray, and sagged oddly. A hundred eye-stalks poked out of the water, looking at her. 

Maddie shivered. 

The longer she watched it, the closer it became. It was catching up to them, even though she couldn’t quite see how it was moving at all, being a wiggly blob thing. She tried to tell Kelpie to go faster, to leave this creature far behind them, but no noise left her mouth.

It didn’t have teeth—didn’t even seem to have a mouth, really—or claws or stingers or arms or legs. Just eyes, many many eyes. Eyes that never blinked, that followed her unerringly. She didn’t know what would happen if it caught up to them, but she trembled at the thought. 

Maddie patted Kelpie’s shell, still unable to speak, but the turtle didn’t go any faster. He didn’t seem concerned at all. She turned away for only a moment, but when she looked back, the creature was much closer. It’s eye-stalks were the only thing above the water’s surface. She started crying. 

She needed to get away, she couldn’t let it catch up, she didn’t like this anymore. 

The creature was nearly close enough to touch by the time Maddie startled awake in the weak light of dawn. She stared up at the rough rocky ceiling above her, her entire body tense and shaking, and decided she’d spend the day in the Meadow, nice and far way from the Cove. 

• • • 

She wandered in the grass after breakfast, managing to stop thinking about her dream. Monsters like that couldn’t really exist, right? She supposed Godzilla would probably know the answer. But was she brave enough to risk finding out they did? 

Little creatures that sort of looked like ones she was familiar with—bunnies and mice and ferrets—but were off somehow scampered around the Meadow. They weren’t very afraid of her, not anymore, and the simple concept of Tag seemed understandable to even these animals. She chased them around with bright laughter, and when she got tired, if she sat still enough, a small variety would creep closer until they could lean against her legs. 

They’d even let her pet them, so long as she didn’t move too quickly. Maddie wondered if the animals on this magic Titan island were just very smart and nice, or if they could tell she wasn’t a threat. They probably hadn’t even seen a human before. 

That day, she sat near a bush overflowing with berries she’d eaten before. A couple brave bunnies nibbled the berries out of her hands, while a ferret-ish creature wiggled around in her lap. 

Much better than creepy creatures with a hundred wobbly eyes. 

After two failed attempts, Maddie managed to weave a flower crown small enough to fit on the largest bunny, who was colored brown with white spots. A small one, all fluffy white and big dark eyes, kept trying to eat the flowers. 

Giggling, Maddie lifted the smaller bunny away and held out one of the reject crowns by their twitching nose. It must’ve been deemed a good substitute, because they started munching on it right away. 

Once she got bored, Maddie stood up and brushed the dirt and grass off her pants. She strayed as close as she dared to the edge of the Meadow near the volcano, where the greenery faded into sand and rocks. 

It never spewed smoke or anything, but as much as she wanted to try climbing to the top, she knew Godzilla wouldn’t like that. 

“But if he doesn’t find out…” Maddie said to herself. What had Andrew said before they ate most of their Halloween candy while their parents weren’t home? What they don’t know can’t hurt them? 

It would be just her luck, though, if she got hurt trying to explore the volcano. Then Godzilla would definitely know what she’d tried to do. 

Determined not to be a troublemaker, Maddie kept walking. It was right as the flat part of the Meadow became hillier that she spotted it. The creepiest part of the island—the area of land that looked scorched black, was always covered by a layer of mist, and was thrown into shadow by either the Cliff or the volcano—butted up against the Meadow’s rolling hills. 

She’d never gone exploring there. Godzilla sure made it seem like a bad place to go, and it didn’t look nice, but she’d been wondering for ages now what was hidden in the fog. 

Maddie reached the spot where the sand around the volcano, the grass of the Meadow, and the dark rocks of the misty place all met. She poked the sand to her left, just because she could, and then slowly reached forward over the other boundary and jabbed a loose stone. It clattered quietly as it resettled, but nothing else happened. 

Crouched and hugging her knees, Maddie waddled forward until her bare toes touched the blackened ground. She leaned over and picked up the stone she’d nudged. It looked like a perfectly ordinary stone. 

After turning it over in her hands a few times, she chucked it into the mist. It wasn’t a particularly hard toss, just enough to lob it out of sight, but she held her breath while waiting for it to land. And kept waiting. Finally unable to hold it any longer, she fell back on her butt and stretched her legs out with a frown. 

The fog stirred around her ankles as she tried to think of why she hadn’t heard the stone land. There were only two explanations. Either it landed on something soft enough to not make noise, or it didn’t land at all. 

“Hello?” Maddie called, wondering if there was something or someone she couldn’t see who inhabited this part of the island. It might explain why Godzilla hadn’t wanted her coming this way. “Is there anyone there? Hellooo?” 

As she paused to allow an answer, Maddie became very aware all of a sudden how quiet it was. The scampering of tiny animal feet, the rustling of grass, the chirping birds and whining bugs were all gone. Even the wind had stopped.

But no one answered. There wasn’t a rumble or growl or huff or any sort of noise at all. 

Maddie rested her chin in her hand and contemplated the area in front of her. To venture inward or not. 

Finally, with a sigh, she stood up and turned to walk away. If she smoothed some of the grass on the steeper hills down, she could get some good speed sliding down it.

A little noise from behind her stopped her after only a few steps. Maddie turned back around. The same stone she’d thrown into the mist was sitting right at the edge of the rocky ground.

She went and picked it up. Excitement and curiosity rushed through her, and she took a step out of the Meadow. 

Chapter Text

The fog smelled nice, even though the goosebumps on her arms didn’t go away. The moment she fully left the Meadow, it grew darker around her. The grass vanished into the mist before she’d taken another step. 

(She couldn’t care.)  

Maddie tossed the stone again, and it came back after only a few seconds, clattering across the rocky ground at her feet. 

“Hello?” she called. 

Of all the animals she’d met so far, all were either friendly or cautious. It wasn’t very nice in this part of the island, so maybe this one was lonely. Maybe it was another Titan or something, and it could create mist. Maybe it was shy. 

(She couldn’t feel afraid.)  

A rumble really similar to Godzilla’s reached her in the complete and utter silence. The sounds of the animals, of the wind and the grass, of the distant lapping water no longer existed. 

Maddie smiled at the familiar, comforting noise. She followed it deeper into the mist, and sneezed as the smell got stronger. 

A new stone sailed out of the fog at the exact angle for her to easily catch. It was a perfectly round oval, like an egg, and it was a pretty pale purple color with little white and gold speckles covering it. Smooth to touch, Maddie rubbed her thumb back and forth over the surface with a smile. The stone was just the right size to sit comfortably in her palm with her fingers closed over it. 

“Thank you!” she called out. “Can I keep it?” 

The rumble came again, an almost identical mimic of Godzilla’s affirmative vocalization. 

(She couldn’t be suspicious.)  

Maddie tucked the purple stone into her pocket and continued forward. She yawned, only to sneeze again. It was only midday, but she was suddenly tired. So tired, she felt like she could lie down and fall right to sleep.  And a little hungry. 

She stopped. 

“Are you hungry? I have some fish on the beach.” She glanced in the direction she was pretty sure the Cove was. There was nothing to see but fog. “We could play after, if you want.” 

It was quiet. Maddie blinked and rubbed her eyes like she had just woken up. “Are you still there?” 

It was very dark around her. She looked up. The Cliff should’ve been right there, but there was nothing but gray. Maddie frowned. She suddenly remembered the way Godzilla would bodily block her view of this part of the island. 

She rubbed her bare arms. It was warm, but they were still covered in goosebumps. She happened to be wearing her sneakers still, since she hadn’t gone near the water for once, and she scuffed one against the uneven ground. A little cloud of black dust scattered. 

“I… I don’t think I should be here,” she said slowly. As curious as she was to find whoever was throwing the stone back to her, she didn’t feel quite right. Maddie turned around to go back the way she’d come. 

“Maddie.” 

She froze, her eyes widening. 

“Maddie, don’t you want to play?” 

(But some lies are too fantastic to be believed, and the magic is broken.) 

She spun slowly on her heel. “…Andrew?” 

Her brother stood a little ways away from her, the mist between them rolling out of the way. It curled around his legs but didn’t obstruct him from view. He smiled happily at her. 

“We can play together, Maddie! There’s a garden close by. It’s really pretty. Don’t you want to see it?” 

“Andrew,” Maddie repeated helplessly. She suddenly felt like she wanted to cry. The smell of the mist suddenly seemed sickly sweet. She sneezed and stepped backward. 

Andrew held his hand out to her with that same smile on his face. Something in his eyes felt wrong. 

“You’re not real,” she whispered. “You can’t be real.” 

“Why not? Don’t you miss me, Maddie?” 

She looked down and felt a few tears slip free. “Because you’re dead.” 

The smile dropped, leaving Andrew’s face blank and scary. 

“I want to go back to the Meadow,” she said. She also wanted to look back, find the way out, but Maddie didn’t want to turn away from this fake version of her brother. 

“We could still play,” not-Andrew offered quietly. He tilted his head toward the thicker wall of fog behind him. “Wouldn’t it be nice to pretend? The garden really is beautiful. I think you’d like it.” 

Maddie squeezed her eyes shut and hugged herself around her waist. This wasn’t her brother, no matter how much she maybe kinda wanted it to be. Maybe this was just a bad dream, or she finally managed to eat something she shouldn’t have and was seeing things that weren’t there. 

A sense of dizziness swept over her. She wavered in place and hiccuped. 

Something touched her arm. Someone. 

Maddie peeked up. Without her hearing so much as a footstep, not-Andrew had come to stand before her. His hand—which was warm, and that, for some reason, pushed her over the edge; she started to cry—rested gently on her arm. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to see the garden?” he asked hopefully. The wrongness she’d noticed in his eyes was gone now, but he seemed sad. And now he looked like she last remembered him, all dirty and a little scared, with a cut on his cheek and bruises on his arm. 

“Am I dreaming?” 

“I’m supposed to take you to the garden.” He looked back over his shoulder before nudging her away. She stumbled, and not-Andrew caught her. “But I don’t really want to now.” 

No matter how much Maddie suddenly wanted to sit down and fall asleep, not-Andrew kept urging her on, back the way she’d come. 

“Andrew…” she whispered. 

“I think you need to wake up, Maddie,” he told her. “I think… I was meant to keep you here. Why don’t I want to anymore?” 

“’Cause you’re my brother,” she said, and never felt more sure about anything ever in her life. “You promised Mom and Dad you’d watch out for me.” 

He nodded slowly. “Your memory of him—me—is… strong. Stronger.”

“Stronger than wh—” Maddie cut herself off with a yelp. “There’s something on my leg!” She wiggled her ankle, feeling a little more awake, but whatever it was didn’t go away. In fact, she couldn’t even see anything there. 

Not-Andrew frowned. “That’s bad.” 

Maddie tried to take another step but a yank on her foot had her falling to her hands and knees. Her skin stung as it scraped against the rocks. She coughed. Something that wasn’t there touched her other leg. 

“What’s happening?” she cried.

Her brother who also wasn’t actually there sat down beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder once she’d flipped over to sit properly. She stared at her bare legs—because jeans were pretty useless in such warm weather and Godzilla had used his claw to make a nice rip right at the knees when she’d asked—and felt the somethings she couldn’t see wrap around higher and higher. 

“Hey,” not-Andrew quietly drew her attention away from her conflicting senses. “Do you like the stone I gave you?” 

She touched the lump in her pocket and nodded. She was so tired.

“I’m glad. I think I gave you one like it before, right?” 

Maddie leaned her head against not-Andrew’s shoulder and closed her eyes. She was scared and still crying, but only a little bit, and even though she knew this wasn’t really her brother, it still felt like him, felt like his comfort.

“You painted it when we were coloring eggs for Easter,” she explained. “But I didn’t know it wasn’t an egg. I thought it was really pretty, so you said you’d make sure it wouldn’t get rotten no matter how long we kept it.” She giggled weakly. “Mom and Dad knew. They let you leave it on the bookshelf in the living room for weeks after all the real eggs went bad.”  

She remembered thinking her brother was magic. That he could do anything. 

“You let me keep it after I found out,” Maddie said. “This one’s not real, right? Because you’re not real.” She tried to open her eyes. She couldn’t. 

“I dunno,” not-Andrew said. “Maybe if we both wish really hard, it’ll still be there when you… when you wake up.” 

“Mm. Promise?” 

She very distantly felt not-Andrew lean his head against hers. “Yeah. I promise, Maddie.” 

• • • 

Godzilla returned to the archipelago on the morning of the third day of his absence. Hopefully, Maddie was fine after spending only two nights on her own. She was smart, and had been handling life on the island well so far, but she was also a child. 

Young creatures of any and every species were curious and daring and weren’t always the best at adhering to concepts such as logic or self-preservation. Caution was learned, and therefore, danger had to be faced. He himself had been no exception, as his habit of wandering off had driven his parents mad with worry. 

He entered the Cove well after the sun had risen, but as he stood and examined the beach, he found no sign of Maddie’s presence. The little pile of branches where she held her fish above flames was cold and dark. Her scent, while not truly old, wasn’t as fresh as it should’ve been if he had only missed her by an hour or so.

Wondering if she simply hadn’t come down from their nest yet, he turned to head up into the Mountains. He didn’t have to go far to realize her scent along the path was even less fresh than on the beach. 

Godzilla stopped and swung his head around with a growl. For some reason, Maddie hadn’t gone to their nest last night. She’d been at the beach more recently than this path, but even that had been yesterday. He backtracked to the Cove and scanned the shore. No obvious footprints. 

He ducked into the central cave, with the hot springs, but it was empty. All his worries came rushing back as he roared at the Forest, hoping to hear her call back or see her playing among the trees. 

Silence. 

The Meadow, then. She was fond of the tiny creatures that called it home. It was vast, even for someone of his size, but not so vast for a child to hide so completely from him. 

He caught her scent again, newer than the others, and growled when he followed it toward the volcano. Except—she hadn’t so much as crossed onto the sand surrounding it. No, she had apparently only followed along the edge, heading toward—

As quickly as he could, Godzilla stormed to the darkest part of the island. It caused sickness in Titans, and he’d tried to deter Maddie from this area, but sometimes even venturing near the mist was enough. And with her being so small and close to the ground… 

Godzilla roared again, hoping against hope she would respond. 

The cloying smell was a poison he gladly endured to search for her. Against all odds, she wasn’t as far into the valley as he would’ve expected. She was unconscious, leaning heavily against a boulder, dark green vines wrapped around her body. 

He snuffled against the mist as he knelt and severed the vines with a quick blast of his star-fire. The burned ends recoiled away from him, retreating back into the fog. As far as any of his kindred had been able to tell, this stretch of land grew more dangerous the further it was from the heart of the island. The source of those vines lived at the end.

The remaining vines loosened and began to fall away as he carefully scooped Maddie up. Godzilla heaved a great sigh of relief when she groaned. She was alive. 

He fled the valley, wondering over the effect it seemed to have had on her. Titans grew sick and weak from the mist, but the loss of consciousness was something he hadn’t seen before. Perhaps it affected humans differently. 

Godzilla reflexively shook his head to clear it of the poison, but it wasn’t so easy as that. For the short amount of time he’d been exposed to it, a little rest should be more than enough to restore himself. He briefly considered the hot springs, but decided the risk was too great, with Maddie still unconscious. Their nest, then. 

• • • 

Maddie came awake slowly. She was warm and her limbs felt heavy, and in those long moments before she was able to open her eyes, a sense of confusion plagued her. She didn’t really remember going to sleep. She didn’t remember what she’d been doing at all, actually. 

The Meadow came to mind. She’d been playing there, right? Had she fallen asleep beneath a tree? 

Whatever she was laying on moved beneath her. It was firm but not uncomfortable. It took too much effort, but Maddie managed to uncurl her body a bit and press her palm down. 

A rumble responded to her movement. 

Maddie forced her eyes to open. Scales. She was curled up on top of Godzilla. The darkness surrounding her brightened a little, and she watched blearily as Godzilla’s massive hand shifted away from where it’d been cupped loosely over her. 

She wiggled around until she could look up at him without having to lift her head, which sounded like an impossible task. They were in his nest, Godzilla on his back with her on his chest. His head was propped up by the raised edge and he rumbled again when their eyes met. 

“Wha—” she started to ask, only to devolve into coughing. He crooned deep in his throat until she caught her breath. 

His hand hovered above her, and she was reminded rather suddenly of how her parents would act when she was sick. When she looked back up at him, she saw the way his snout wrinkled in worry. 

It slowly came back to her, what had happened in the mist, and she realized he must’ve gotten back only to find her missing. He’d saved her, again, and now he was watching her as if she would die if he dared glance away. 

This felt different from everything else, though she didn’t quite have the words to explain why. It was the difference between how a camp counselor treated you when you got sick, and how a parent treated you. 

Maddie thought about her parents and Godzilla, and Andrew and not-Andrew, and then she turned to press her face against his warm scales as she started crying. His hand returned to rest gently against her shuddering back, and even through her tears, she managed a small smile of thanks. 

Chapter Text

The sun rose over the archipelago, and all was well. Neither Godzilla nor Maddie had moved from where they rested. If he was a little lethargic after only a few minutes in the mist, he couldn’t imagine how the child was feeling after nearly a day there. Certainly an entire afternoon and night, and the portion of the morning before his return. 

After her initial return to consciousness, Maddie had slipped in and out of sleep for the rest of the day, refusing food with claims of feeling sick to her stomach. Though he would’ve liked to get her strength back up, it would only make things worse if she was unable to keep anything down. 

Maddie began to stir all on her own, which was a good sign. Godzilla watched her blink awake and was pleased when she exhibited no confusion over what had happened. He huffed at her as she sat up. 

She smiled back at him. “Good morning.” 

He huffed again and carefully lifted her down to the floor of the nest. Maddie went right to the wall with her tallies, where she knelt down and added two more to the bunch. 

“Huh,” she said, leaning back a little. “Today’s my fourteenth day here. That’s two weeks.” She twisted her upper body around to face him. “Is that right?” 

Godzilla nodded. A week was a very human measurement of time—and a short one at that, considering his own lifespan—but it obviously meant a lot to Maddie. He strained to remember other terms humans used for time passing. A year, he knew, was one of the largest they used with frequency. Their lifespans were measured in years. What he used to call a sun-span was a day, but he’d known that one for a long time.

He would learn more, he was sure, until it became second nature as it was to any human.

“Two weeks. It’s just gone by so fast.” Maddie glanced at the wall again before starting to stand up, only to freeze. 

He watched her reach toward her waist. Her little fingers slipped into one of her pockets and slowly removed a stone. She stared down at it in silence for a long minute, brushing her thumb over the little speckles of color covering the purple surface. 

Just as he was about to snort at her to try and snap her out of the distressed daze she seemed to be slipping into, Maddie straightened up with a little sniffle and gently laid the egg-shaped stone on a broad leaf against the rock wall. 

She pushed herself to her feet and took a few unsteady steps backward, as if reluctant to take her eyes off it. 

Godzilla rolled over onto his belly and puffed a breath over the child’s back. Maddie whirled with a surprised yelp, coming face-to-snout with him. She wasn’t crying, but this close, he could see the tears clinging to her eyelashes. Before she could respond—or playfully shove him away, from the looks of things—her stomach rumbled rather fiercely for such a small human. 

He rumbled back and tilted his head forward slightly in invitation. 

“I guess I am pretty hungry now,” Maddie said as she climbed onto his snout. He waited until he felt her sitting on top of his head to push himself up. 

Good, he huffed as he began a cautious descent down to the Cove. You need food after your misadventure yesterday. You’ve already missed too many meals. 

“Do you think those fish are still okay?” Maddie called down to him. “It’s just, I didn’t get the chance to eat many of them.” He managed to hear the soft giggle she let out. “Not that I could’ve eaten all of them,” she added quietly. 

Godzilla could tell which fruits a human could stomach, but he was less sure about fish. The fact that Maddie refused to eat them raw was enough for him to know he couldn’t base whether they were safe for her to eat on whether he would eat them. Unless she used the fire for taste? 

No, it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t risk it. Fresh fish could be caught with ease. 

Most of the pile was gone anyway, snatched by birds and other creatures. Before he even let Maddie down, he scraped sand over the remaining fish and hoped that got his point across. 

“Guess that answers that,” she said as he sank into the water and crossed to the other side. 

Letting his jaw rest in the shallows, he held still while she slid down to the sand in front of the Forest. He noticed she very carefully didn’t look over at the dark part of the island. He grumbled quietly, Won’t be gone long. Should be fish just past the drop off. 

Maddie’s eyes strayed to the ocean. She fidgeted, switching her weight from one foot to the other and back, fingers knotted tightly around each other. “I don’t really need fish,” she eventually told him, with a note of hopefulness he didn’t understand at first.

It clicked a moment later, and he gently pushed his snout up against her. She immediately sagged against him. 

You need strength. Fish are better for that than fruit. You’ll see me the whole time, he promised with a deep, soothing rumble. Godzilla waited for Maddie to pull away a little first before doing so himself. 

“Real quick?” she asked, her voice small. 

He nodded. 

She took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. I—I bet I’ll make it back here first!” 

With a short roar to accept her challenge, Godzilla dove away, laughing to himself when he just barely heard her cry out, “No fair, you cheater, you got a head start!” 

• • • 

Maddie did end up beating him, but only because she found a tree with fresh fruit right at the tree line. Godzilla watched her pick at the remainder of her sizable breakfast, satisfied that she already looked like she was feeling better. 

He lay on his belly, half on the sand, half in the water, and felt quite content with the sun warming his scales and the tiny presence leaning against his shoulder, easily within view. Maddie seemed happy as well, and that was what mattered. 

There was no way for him to know exactly what happened to her in the mist, and if she didn’t want to talk about it, he wouldn’t press even if he could. Though the vines’ presence wasn't a surprise to him, they had been only seldom seen by him or his kindred long ago. Just as at any of the locations where Titanic radiation bloomed, the surrounding wildlife was affected in small ways. 

A plant that acted more like an animal was hardly the strangest thing any of them had ever seen. 

Even he wasn’t sure which came first, the plant from which the vines sprouted, or the poison mist. Godzilla had never known it to wrap around a living creature like that, though he had seen it drag a carcass away once or twice. He recalled his earlier thoughts of it reacting differently because she was human. Perhaps it had mistaken her for one of the equally small critters who called the Meadow their home? But had Maddie been prey or merely a trespasser? 

It didn’t matter, he supposed. Maddie was smart, and the likelihood of her returning to the dangerous stretch of land now that she knew what hid in the fog was comfortingly low. Godzilla grumbled good-naturedly to himself that he was more likely to find her trying to scale the volcano.

And he couldn’t be mad at her, not when the poison was so potent, even to his kind. There wasn’t a Titan who had ever called this archipelago home who hadn’t ended up in there at some point, himself included. 

No, Godzilla thought to himself as he turned his head a little to nudge the edge of his jaw against Maddie, he wouldn’t waste time being mad about a child’s curiosity, much less the danger she hadn’t known enough about. Not when he was so relieved she was okay. 

They spent a while like that, basking in the sun, relaxed and happy. Maddie showed no desire to be anywhere else, which he hardly minded. How long had it been since he’d been able to share something as simple as a peaceful morning with someone? 

The sun was high above their heads when a little splash of water had them both looking over at the Cove. 

A sea turtle was pulling itself onto the beach right next to him, which was odd. Most of the island’s inhabitants and visitors avoided him to some extent. They weren’t quite afraid of him enough to flee whenever he was around, but they never really dared get too close.

Maddie standing up distracted him from his confusion. “Kelpie!” she called as she bounced across the sand to kneel in front of the turtle. It raised its front flippers and thumped them against the sand as she patted its patterned head. 

“You don’t mind, do you?” she asked, leaning over to look directly into one of the turtle’s dark eyes. “I had a dream,” Maddie shivered a little, “and you were in it, and I called you Kelpie. I think it suits you!” 

Godzilla snorted in amusement when Kelpie stretched his neck forward and bumped Maddie’s knee. She twisted around with shining eyes. “I think he likes it,” she said excitedly. 

I think so too, Godzilla rumbled. He carefully watched Kelpie’s mouth—he knew what sort of damage even a plant-eater’s powerful jaw could do, and Maddie’s fingers were already so small and fragile—but the turtle merely snagged the rough edge of her shorts and tugged. He wants to swim with you, he told her, tossing his head toward the water. 

He would never not be impressed by how close to his true meaning Maddie was able to get. She looked at the Cove, then over at the ocean, then back to Godzilla. 

Go, he encouraged her with a nod. I don’t mind. 

As much as he would’ve liked to continue lazing about with the child, he would hardly begrudge her the chance to play. 

Maddie stood up and fidgeted with the bottom of her shirt. Kelpie began the slow process of turning around and returning to the water. “Are, I mean, would you—will you come too?” 

Godzilla sighed fondly and smiled as much as he was capable of. If that's what you want, then of course, Maddie. The pleased rumble practically making the sand around him jump from the vibrations was answer enough for her. 

With a shout of laughter—such an endearing human trait, taking the ability to be loud and threatening and turning it into an expression of unmistakable joy; Godzilla knew quite well most people would not hear his happy rumbles and huffs and understand them for what they were—she leapt after Kelpie into the Cove. 

Heaving himself up, Godzilla followed. 

• • • 

There had not been a day so full of Maddie’s laughter before this one. She took great delight in finding she could carefully grip the front of Kelpie’s shell and be pulled around at far faster speeds than she could swim on her own. 

A number of other sea turtles eventually joined them, perhaps bolstered by the sight of one of their own so fearlessly swimming around the Titan in their midst. 

Godzilla obligingly raised his head out of the water a little whenever Maddie asked so she could jump off. She was very close to managing a full flip in the air without landing awkwardly. 

It was just after he lifted his snout to find a sea turtle perched rather serenely on the end that he realized something as Maddie nearly inhaled water from laughing at the sight of him going cross-eyed at the creature wildly flapping its flippers at him. 

His chest nearly felt full to bursting with light from how happy he was, and he could not remember how long it had been since there was anything other than a lonely pit there. 

The sea turtle swam off as soon as he submerged his snout, and Godzilla was quick to scoop Maddie out of the water instead. Her giggles went quiet, and he couldn’t fathom what she saw in his eyes that made her tilt her head with a serious look overtaking her joy. 

He huffed softly and, even though it would be lost to the language barrier, simply said, Thank you. Even if she had been capable of understanding him, he didn’t think he would’ve been able to continue or explain. Anything else was too far and too fresh to capture in words.

Maddie was silent for a moment before she stood and stepped forward to lean against the space between his eyes, her forehead warm against his scales. “I think you’re thanking me,” she whispered, “and I don’t know what for, but… you’re welcome.” 

Godzilla watched, grateful beyond measure, as she smiled brightly at him, turned, and ran, jumping off the end of his snout and finally managing a perfect flip into the ocean below. 

Chapter Text

The house wasn’t quiet anymore, but Andrew almost wished it was. Over the past month since San Francisco, he’d been forced to watch the slow process of his parents’ marriage falling apart. Like an avalanche that wasn't too bad in the beginning, it was crushing them beneath its weight now. 

Some things had changed over the last couple weeks, some things hadn’t. After their little talk, Andrew could tell Dad was really trying. The alcohol was put away, and it was only a rare night when he allowed himself to indulge in a drink. He showered and dressed every morning, which was more than Andrew could’ve said a little while ago. 

Sometimes, him and Dad ventured outside. Just for a walk, or to pick up pizza, or to replace what they’d lost in the destruction of their San Francisco home. 

It wasn’t an instant fix, but Andrew hadn’t expected that. That Dad was putting effort into—well, moving on wasn’t quite right. Andrew didn’t think Dad would ever truly move on, didn’t think he himself would either. 

Maddie would be a ghost in the back of their minds for the rest of their lives. He was sure of that. 

But Dad was getting better. He didn’t look like his entire world had ended anymore, and he was talking and sometimes even smiling. Triumph burned warmly in Andrew’s chest whenever he got his dad to chuckle at something. 

See, Maddie? I’m watching out for them, he thought. 

Sometimes, Andrew was the one to break down. He saw a video of a little turtle eating lettuce and almost threw his phone across his bedroom. Maddie had sworn up and down she’d have a pet turtle one day. She’d said that about a lot of animals, of course, but he could so easily picture her face when she got to hold a turtle during summer camp once. 

Dad found him screaming and crying into his pillow a few minutes later, his phone carefully and deliberately placed on the far edge of his nightstand. 

It hurt like breaking, like burning, like freezing. At his worst, Andrew understood the emptiness in his mom. 

Unlike Dad, she wasn’t getting better. She was distant and quiet right up until she and Dad were suddenly arguing with tense voices and tenser shoulders. They didn’t fight like parents in movies did. They didn’t raise their voices or throw things at each other or make wide, frantic gestures for emphasis. 

No, Andrew was left sinking in his seat at dinner as they snapped back and forth almost too politely. It was almost worse, in some ways. 

There were no ultimatums. No shrieking anger. No slammed doors. Just the sensation of watching a glass of water teeter over the edge of a counter but knowing you won’t be able to steady or catch it before it shattered. 

Just the quiet admittance that with the way things were different now, it meant they were different too. 

Dad wanted to leave Boston. He wanted to escape the memories. Mom wanted to stay. She wanted to cling to them. 

Clinging wasn’t helping her though, and Andrew couldn’t figure out how to make her realize it. 

“You can’t, bud,” Dad told him. “Either she realizes it herself or she doesn’t realize it at all. Sometimes, people get an idea in their heads and no one can convince them otherwise.” 

“Like flat-earthers?” 

Dad snorted, and Andrew added a tally to his mental count of making his dad laugh. “Yeah,” his dad said, ruffling his hair. “I know you want to help, but you can’t fix everything. And you shouldn’t have to, anyway.” 

Andrew nodded. He didn’t like it, but he understood. 

So Mom was depressed and determined to stay with Monarch, Dad wanted to move far away from Boston and never give Monarch another moment of his attention, and Andrew… he wanted his family to be happy and whole. 

“If wishes were wings, we’d all touch the sky,” he whispered to himself in the dark of his bedroom. It’d been Maddie’s favorite version of that saying, though he couldn’t remember where she’d first heard it. Maybe she’d made it up. 

He walked into the kitchen on the fortieth day since Maddie’s death—he’d been counting—to find his parents stonily staring across the table at each other. A bunch of papers littered the space between them. Andrew’s heart sunk. 

They sat him down, and where it hadn’t been before, this was like the movies. It was all, We still love you very much, and It’s not your fault, okay? and We want what’s best for you, and Your mom and I aren’t going to stay together. 

Like he hadn’t been sitting and waiting for this bomb to go off for the past month. 

Since Andrew was twelve, they wanted him to choose which parent to go with. They promised they would both understand no matter which he chose, and it didn’t mean he would never see the other again. 

Mom was going to stay in Boston for the time being, until Monarch inevitably packed her up and sent her to some base or another. She had things to work on, and though Andrew was happy to see some life return to his mom’s eyes, she still looked like one wrong move would shatter her. 

Dad was going to walk away from Monarch and never look back, would move to Colorado to study the local wildlife. He seemed particularly excited about the wolves. He wasn’t looking to forget about Maddie, but he explained how a change of scenery, how going someplace he wouldn’t constantly associate with his daughter, was what he felt was best for himself. 

Really, the decision wasn’t hard to make. And that made Andrew feel awful and guilty. 

When Mark Russell packed up his life and left for a cabin in the middle of nowhere, he was joined by his son. 

This new quiet was nice. Peaceful. No cars or shouting or construction. He could see a million more stars than he’d ever seen in Boston, and he wished Maddie could have seen how beautiful it was. 

As bad as Andrew felt for leaving his mom on her own, he just—he couldn’t have gone with her. He never would’ve said as much out loud, but he’d lost a little bit of his trust in her, and he wasn’t sure she was better enough to be able to take care of him. 

Days passed, and Andrew’s heart began to feel a little lighter. He and Dad fell into a new routine. The cabin was isolated, but not so much that they didn’t have good internet. School and work were accomplished online, and Andrew could rest easy at night, knowing he’d made the right choice. 

• • •

Emma Russell felt like she was slipping. So much had been taken from her in such a short amount of time. Her daughter, dead. Her husband, divorced. Her son… she didn’t blame Andrew for wanting to stay with Mark, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. 

All it took was one moment. One moment, when Maddie slipped away from them, and now Emma’s life had spiraled out of control. 

She felt so helpless. There was nothing she could’ve done that day, just as there was nothing she could’ve done once Mark decided their paths were diverging too drastically. There had been no way to stop Godzilla or the MUTOs. They were beyond humanity’s control. 

But they didn’t have to be. 

With an improved ORCA, perhaps she wouldn’t feel so weak, so vulnerable. To command Titans—she would be far from powerless. She could protect Andrew in a way she hadn’t been able to protect Maddie. 

The Titans, there had to be a reason for them. She had research to do, but Emma swore to herself, the next time a Titan went rampaging, it would be on her own terms. Andrew would never be hurt if she had control. 

A plan began to take shape in her mind. 

• • •

Mark wouldn’t go so far as to say he was happy just yet. But he was on his way to getting there. He had Andrew to thank for that, and he knew it would be a while before he could forgive himself for putting his twelve-year-old son in that position.

Slowly, so very slowly, it began to hurt less to think of Maddie. It became easier to smile. Both he and Andrew grew to thrive in their cabin, just far away enough from the nearest small town to keep visitors to an extreme minimum. 

Life continued. They continued. 

It wasn’t always easy, but for his son, the effort was more than worth it. 

Chapter Text

Maddie trembled with excitement. She’d been with Godzilla for almost two whole months now and this was the first time he was taking her somewhere away from the main island of the archipelago. 

He rumbled beneath her, probably laughing at her again for her eagerness. She was sitting cross-legged on his head as he swam, and she had promised not to stand up while he was moving. There was a little bundle of leaves tied haphazardly together with vines from the Forest resting in her lap. It held a small variety of fruit, so they wouldn’t have to leave for lunch. 

According to the sun’s mid-morning position, they were heading north. They were passing other islands, too, ones that looked just as fun to explore. On one of them, a group of almost-wolves ran along the edge of the cliff overlooking the ocean, howling at Maddie and Godzilla. She waved at them.

That was something she was getting more used to, how all the animals were just slightly different. Sometimes their proportions were a little different, or they’d be bigger than she thought they were back home. Their colors were mostly brighter, but a lot of it was in their eyes. Like with Godzilla, Maddie was sure some of the animals were looking at her and understanding what she said. 

Like Kelpie, or a few of the birds in the Forest, or a particular ferret-creature with a funny spotted pattern, who would stand up on its back legs and waddle around. 

Not that Maddie was complaining. It made the archipelago feel more magical. 

“Are we there yet?” she asked, flopping backwards. She spread her arms out, squinting up at the sun.

Godzilla snorted. 

“Ugh,” Maddie groaned. “How far away could it be? You’ve been swimming for ages!” 

She could feel him laughing, great vibrating rumbles shaking her whole body as he did. He huffed something that was probably encouragement to be patient. 

“I don’t want to be patient, though,” she grumbled. After sitting up just long enough to set her leaf-sack lunch aside, Maddie rolled onto her stomach, facing the opposite direction from him. With her legs bent at the knee, she slowly kicked her bare feet back and forth, chin in her hands. She watched Godzilla’s spines tilt one way, then the other, then back, as his whole body wiggled slightly. Unconsciously, she began to lean back and forth with them. “You swim funny.” 

He huffed, partially indignant but mostly amused, and since his mouth was underwater, it sounded kinda like a whale spraying water up with its blowhole. The mist fell lightly over her, making Maddie duck her head with a squeal.  

“Sorry! But you do!” She over-exaggeratedly squirmed, nearly rolling over entirely by accident. “Like that, see?” 

Instead of responding, Godzilla began to twist his entire body. Knowing exactly how this was going to end, Maddie lunged up and grabbed her lunch, right before she was sent tumbling into the water. 

She resurfaced laughing. Godzilla grumbled down at her as he scooped her up in his hand, but she knew he wasn’t actually offended. “Are we there yet?” she asked, wiping water from her eyes. 

He tossed his head as he started walking, the water growing shallower with each step. Maddie obligingly looked over her shoulder. She gasped in delight. 

The island, if it could even be called that, was little more than complex rock formations forming something tantalizingly close to a giant playground. They formed bridges and spirals and got really wide in some parts and really thin in others. There were sharp, curving spires and broad, flat-topped pillars, and it was all decorated with hanging vines and moss. And all of it rose up and hung suspended above the water, which only came up to Godzilla’s knees or so. 

Maddie stared intently at it as he got closer, tracing the crazy paths someone could take, provided they were small enough to stand on the rocks. Which she was. She turned back to peer pleadingly up at Godzilla. 

The way he lifted his hand and held it beside one of the lower formations was answer enough. 

• • • 

It took Maddie all of a few minutes to decide this was better than any playground. She’d immediately appreciated the genuine challenge it was to get from Point A to Point B, rather than running across some boards that were only slightly wiggly. 

The rock was rough beneath her feet, but after foregoing shoes for as long as she had been, she barely noticed. She made it to the top of a particularly impressive spire and was immeasurably delighted to find herself at eye-level with Godzilla, which was a very rare occurrence indeed. 

She’d hollered wordlessly up there, because it seemed like the right thing to do, and Godzilla had followed her lead, blasting a bright blue beam of light into the sky with a roar. 

He followed her around as she scrambled like a little monkey over the twisting branches of the island. There was one naturally formed bridge that arced up in the middle, just enough for him to stand beneath. Having never truly seen him from such a high vantage point, Maddie spent several minutes staring down at him, periodically asking him to turn. 

It was even more fun than she’d initially thought their trip would be, when their destination had still been a surprise. The hours passed quickly, as they always do when one is enjoying themself, and Maddie was almost surprised when she was gathered up from the crag she was clinging gleefully to. 

“Oh,” she said as Godzilla set her on one of the shorter pillars poking out of the ocean. “Is it lunchtime already?” He’d already retrieved her leaf-sack from wherever she’d left it. 

He rumbled confirmation as he sank down onto his belly in the shallow water, curling up around the rock formation with a pleased sigh. Maddie pulled out the coconut she’d managed to turn, after much trial and error, into a sort of water bottle—after painstakingly grinding a hole into one of the sides, finding a way to seal the halves back up, and make something to serve as a plug—and took a grateful drink. She hadn’t even realized she was so thirsty. 

Lunch was a leisurely affair, between Godzilla taking a nap and Maddie slowly working her way through her supply of fruit. A few brave birds swooped down to hop around her in their search for a treat. One squawked rather gleefully when she tossed it a pit. 

“I wish I had a bag or something,” Maddie said as one of the smaller birds carefully pecked seeds straight from her hand. “Hmm. I bet I could make one.” The bird only cocked its head at her. 

A project for another day, then. 

By the time Godzilla woke up, Maddie was ready to keep playing. Only, this time, she had her sights set elsewhere. Leaving over the edge of the pillar, she squinted into the clear water below the rocky jungle gym. 

“It looks like there are tunnels and stuff down there!” She excitedly looked over at Godzilla, who was still blinking awake. “Can I go swimming?” 

He pushed himself up and gave her an immensely gentle nudge with the end of his snout, which was his way of agreeing but asking her to be careful. The water wasn’t that far below her, and it was obviously plenty deep enough, so once Godzilla moved out of the way, Maddie took a flying leap. 

She’d had loads of practice landing, and whenever she jumped off him, Godzilla was always raising himself up slightly higher, so she had no problem avoiding a bellyflop even at such a distance. 

The water felt amazing after so much climbing. Maddie briefly returned to the surface to get her bearings and a fresh breath before diving back under. 

Over the past few weeks, with how much swimming she was doing, she’d gotten a lot better at holding her breath and going deep and moving around in general. It came in handy now, as she pulled herself along the rocky bottom like a curious salamander. She passed tunnels and holes stretching too deep for her, despite her practice.

To her right, where the island’s underwater portion dropped off to the depths of the ocean, Godzilla appeared. He couldn’t get too much closer before it was too shallow for him to actually swim, so Maddie turned to head toward him instead. She curved beneath a protruding arch before heading back to the surface. 

She swam to the edge of the craggy shelf and maneuvered herself into sitting cross-legged, looking out into the infinite reaches of the sea. Godzilla’s tail swished back and forth, and she grinned with her slightly puffed-out cheeks as he positioned himself so they were face to face. 

Maddie waved. Godzilla blew out a stream of bubbles. Sitting still let her stay under longer, and it was so peaceful. That was one thing she’d come to understand about why Godzilla liked hanging out underwater so much.

It was just so calm and quiet and pretty. The way the sun struck the surface, brightening the water even as far down as they were, and formed nearly solid-looking beams of light. The graceful movements of lazy fish and waving seaweed. The weightless feeling, and the way her hair and shirt floated as if gravity didn’t exist at all. 

She’d never minded swimming before, but she’d positively come to love it recently. 

When Maddie started to go back up for air again, Godzilla ducked beneath her and gave her a push, shooting her upwards like she was a little torpedo. He lifted her out of the water entirely after she’d taken a breath, though he remained submerged himself. 

She beamed happily at him. “Thanks for bringing me here! It’s the best!” She rocked backward in her excitement and nearly slipped off his snout. Laughing as she righted herself, Maddie thought of the how much deeper the tunnels and stuff went. “Someday, I’ll be so good at holding my breath, I’ll be able to swim anywhere! Maybe I’ll even beat you in a holding-our-breaths contest.” 

He rumble-laughed, and with a sharp jerk of his head, Godzilla tossed Maddie up into the air, and she screamed with delighted laughter all the way back down.

Chapter Text

Maddie finished filling her coconut water bottle from the spring and stood up. It was enthusiastically wrapped in vines so she could hang it at her hip like a proper adventurer with a canteen. Everyone knew you needed to bring water on your expedition unless you wanted to get all sick and tired too quickly. 

And Maddie wasn’t about to ruin her adventure because she got so thirsty she gave up. Today, she was going into the part of the forest area she hadn’t seen yet. It was mostly split into two parts, from what she’d seen. There was the front section, close to the Cove, with its familiar fruit trees and sunny clearings. 

Then there was the back section, where she hadn’t really gone yet. It was darker back there, because the trees looked to be closer together, and the trunks were thicker and taller. 

Back home, maybe she would’ve been a little nervous about going somewhere like that all alone, but when she’d told Godzilla about her plans, he had encouraged her to go. If there was any reason she shouldn’t, he would’ve curled himself around her and given her the same look he gave her whenever she mentioned the volcano. 

She’d make it up there someday. 

But for now, she was given the go-ahead for exploring the deeper parts of the woods covering the western side of the island. Maddie adjusted the vine crossing her chest and began to head up the slight incline into the Forest. 

She skipped over protruding roots and hopped over little bushes. When she passed by a plant with berries ripe for the picking, she gathered a handful to munch on while she walked. The ground was springy with bright green grass and moss. 

It didn’t rain often on the archipelago, and it was usually did while she was sleeping, like last night. Drops of water sparkled in the shafts of sunlight, and the fresh-rain smell was even stronger here than on the rest of the island. Birds cried out overhead, and one swooped down to land on her shoulder. The bright blue feathers, with a little swoop coming off the back of its head, marked it as one of the babies she’d seen ages ago. She’d spent many days convincing the little bird to let her pet it.

Maddie lifted a berry. It chirped a pretty tune in thanks and stayed on her shoulder to nibble the berry at its leisure. 

Frantic fluttering just above her distracted Maddie from trying to mimic her friend’s whistles. The sibling, who had slightly darker blue feathers and had always been a bit more skittish, went from branch to branch, warbling nervously. 

Maddie’s friend ignored its sibling in favor of the berry, which made Maddie laugh. Sometimes, their antics reminded her a little of herself and Andrew, and the trouble they used to occasionally get themselves into. She and her brother had reversed the roles often, each taking turns to be the voice of reason, unless the other’s idea or plan sounded really good. 

To this day, she still wasn’t sure which of them could take credit for the initial idea behind The Chicken Incident, since they’d both been equally involved by the end. The Snake Incident, now, that one should could claim as hers.

The bird finished the berry, shuffled in place, and reached over to quickly but its head against Maddie’s cheek. With a trill that she imagined to be exasperated, it took off and went about calming its sibling down. 

Maddie twisted around to wave goodbye at them before setting off at a more determined pace. Done with her snack—and bearing purple-y stained fingers as a result—she began to search the ground as she hiked onward. 

“Aha!” she cried after a few minutes of looking. Maddie reached down and picked up the perfect branch for an adventure. It was slim enough to fit comfortably in her hand, and it also wasn’t too heavy. It was both long enough to reach the ground if she wanted it to and short enough to be easily waved around. 

Her steps slowed while she twisted off the little offshoot branches, and—even better!—since it was a little damp from the rain, the bark peeled off easily. 

She realized rather suddenly that she had reached the point where the front half of the Forest became the back half. Not wanting to continue when she was distracted, Maddie found a nice boulder to sit on while she finished cleaning up her branch. 

Humming to herself as she worked, Maddie was done quickly. 

“Perfect,” she said, swishing it about. She took a quick drink of water before finally entering the deeper, darker side of the Forest. 

Softly glowing mushrooms—like straight out of a fairytale—dotted the bases of the trees. Ivy curled around branches and trunks, and the roots pushing up out of the ground were much bigger than she was used to seeing. 

It was quieter here, too, less birdsong and scampering feet. The upper branches stretched farther and higher, forming a thick ceiling of leaves. It wasn’t too dark to see by, but they blocked direct sunlight completely. 

Maddie felt small, which seemed like a funny thing to say when she spent so much time around Godzilla. But the wider around the trees became, the more she felt like a tiny woodland creature herself. The whole world felt bigger. 

She became aware, after wandering for several minutes and being careful to make little arrows in the dirt every so often, pointing in the direction she was going just in case she accidentally doubled back, that she was being watched. A tickling sensation right at the top of her spine said she was being followed. 

Movement in the corner of her eye—it was too dark and the creature too fast to make any details out—confirmed it. She listened carefully, deliberately lightening her steps for a few yards to better hear anything. Soft footsteps, quick but measured, fell out of sync with her own. Something smallish, then, that had to trot along to keep up with her. 

The unknown presence made her smile. It was a lot harder to feel so alone when you had a friendly shadow. 

And she knew it was friendly. She’d come to understand that there was nothing on this particular island in the archipelago that posed a threat. Well, except for the volcano, and whatever lived in the area she’d started calling Dead Valley. But dangerous animals? No. Not here. 

Besides, Godzilla wouldn’t have let her come out here if he thought something might eat her. And she really did mean think, because something else she had come to understand was how easily paranoid he could be with some things. He didn’t need proof of there being a threat, all he needed was the barest suspicion. 

Maddie thought he was being silly for the most part. His reaction to the curious whale last week had definitely been overkill. 

She whipped around and laughed when all there was to see was some quivering leaves. Whatever it was was fast when it wanted to be, that was for sure. 

Waving her branch like a wand, Maddie turned and kept going. “It’s all right,” she called over her shoulder. “If you don’t want me to see you, that’s fine!” 

The footsteps started back up after a few seconds, weaving from her right side to her left and back. But never in front of her. And she never caught more than a tiny glimpse of it out of the corner of her eye. 

“Do you live back here?” she asked, because talking never hurt. Some creatures understood her better than others, but she enjoyed making one-sided conversation whether she got a clear reaction or not. “I’ve never been this far into the Forest. It’s really pretty, though.” 

She ran her hand along a fallen tree, with a trunk taller than she was, as she passed by it. A whole bunch of glowing mushrooms and fuzzy moss with little antenna-looking offshoots had completely taken over it. 

“Everything feels a lot bigger. Hey! The other side has trees for humans, and this side has trees for Titans! Is that it?” She laughed in delight and hopped up onto a root that made a bridge over a slow-moving stream. “Still not big enough for them to climb, but I don’t think Godzilla would like climbing trees anyway.” 

In a whisper, as if she was sharing a secret, she added, “He prefers the ocean anyway. And that’s just fine! But I like both. What about you? Do you like climbing trees?” 

There was a short pause in her shadow’s footsteps, before they scampered off and clearly left the ground. Some low-hanging leaves to her left rustled, and a moment later, there was a soft thud behind her. 

“You do! And these look like really hard trees to climb, so you’re probably really good, right? I couldn’t climb these.” Maddie stopped at the foot of one and tilted her head back. There were almost no low branches, and the ones that were there were spread really far apart. She sighed and kept walking. “Yeah, these trees just aren’t for me.” 

She couldn’t see any fruit, either, which was a little disappointing. She’d been hoping to find something new. 

As she looked around, something quick scuttled around a tree in front of her, one that had to have been just as big as one of Godzilla’s legs. She gasped and hurried forward to see the little animal better. 

“A gecko! It’s so cute!” It was a pretty yellowy-orange color with small dark speckles and white sides, making it stand out brightly against the shadowed brown bark. The gecko tilted its head at her before its tongue shot out and landed on its eye. “Eww!” Maddie laughed. 

She slowly reached out, curious to see if it would let her get close. It pulled its tongue back into its mouth and stayed still. Maddie silently rested her hand on the tree close to it. The gecko, after a long pause, took quick, stuttered steps until it was right next to her. Its tongue flicked out, just barely brushing her finger. 

She giggled. It hesitated another moment before climbing onto her palm, where it immediately settled down. 

“Oh!” Maddie looked around, but her shadow was, naturally, nowhere to be seen. And it wasn’t like they would’ve been any help. Did she wait for the gecko to wander off? Would it run away as soon as she moved? She knew you weren’t supposed to take wild animals home with you… but since she technically lived in the wild herself, did that mean she could bring it with her? 

“I’m gonna keep walking,” she warned it. The gecko didn’t move. “Okay. Last chance.” It flicked its tail but stayed where it was. “No pooping in my hand.” 

She took a step away from the tree and held her palm out in front of herself. The gecko looked quite content. And that’s how she found herself walking by trees taller than any she’d ever seen before—and she’d seen redwoods before—with a wizard’s staff in one hand and a gecko in the other, with a mysterious shadow trailing steadily along behind her. 

Maddie hadn’t been sure what would happen on her adventure, but she wouldn’t have guessed any of this. 

Only when she politely asked if the gecko could perhaps move up her arm or something so she could take a drink did it leave her palm. It tickled when it settled against her neck. Maddie looked around as she returned her coconut to her side. “I wonder how long I’ve been in here.” 

It certainly seemed like a long time, but without the sun, she had no way to tell for sure. It was darkish beneath the leaves, but it’d been like this from her first steps into the second half of the Forest. 

“It’s a big forest,” she said as she drew an arrow in the dirt with her adventurer’s walking stick. “But I’m not hungry yet, so it hasn’t been too long.” 

The ground had stopped sloping upward a while ago, and now she noticed that it was just barely sloping down. Except to her right. If she went right, she’d be going up an even steeper hill than she first started on. 

Maddie figured she could try that way some other time. Right now, she just wanted to see if there was an end to the Forest. 

It wasn’t too much longer before she found it. The massive trees and grass and plants fell away into a sliver of a sandy beach. A cluster of rock formations sat out in the ocean, and directly in front of her was Godzilla. 

She laughed and waved at him. He snorted back and raised his tail to let it slap the water. 

“Told ya he prefers the ocean,” she said to her shadow friend. Some leaves rustled in response. “It was nice to walk with you. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime!” 

Something very soft brushed against her ankles and bare feet. Maddie politely kept her eyes on Godzilla until she heard the footsteps lope back into the Forest and fade away. 

“What about you?” she asked the gecko. A super soft chirping noise—that she probably wouldn’t have been able to hear if the gecko hadn’t been right next to her ear—answered her. “Well, you’re free to go if you change your mind.” 

And with that, she stabbed her wizard staff into the sand and ran out onto the beach. She splashed through the shallows over to Godzilla and leaned up against his snout. 

“Look! I made a new friend! Two, actually, but I don’t know what the other one was. This is a gecko and he’s sitting on me like I sit on you!” 

Godzilla rumble-laughed and pushed lightly against her. His eyes flicked toward the Forest before returning to rest on her. 

“It was great! Everything was so much bigger on this side! Does this beach connect to the one by the reefs? So I could come this way without having to go through the other part?” 

Godzilla nodded. 

“Hm. They need names, since it’s like two entirely different forests,” Maddie said, beginning the climb to the top of Godzilla’s head. “I think… from now on, I’ll call the part near the Cove the Lesser Forest, and this part can be the Greater Forest.” 

With an approving huff, Godzilla pushed himself out of the shallows and into deeper water. And Maddie sat on top of him, smiling happily, with her own gecko still cuddled up to the side of her neck, seemingly quite content. 

Chapter Text

Rainy mornings with dark skies made for the laziest of days. Godzilla huffed as another bolt of lightning streaked across the sky. His internal timekeeper said it was midmorning, after they’d usually have gone down to the Cove, but it was impossible to tell by looking around. The clouds not only blocked the sun, but turned their surroundings bleary and dark. 

A haze of rain obscured the rest of the island from his sight as well, even as it pounded against his back. He had no desire to leave their nest, and the best way to protect it from getting soaked was to curl around the outer edge on his side as a wall. The rocky overhang helped, so long as the wind didn’t carry the rain sideways. 

Godzilla turned his head away from the outside world to focus on the space between him and the crater’s wall. It was a world in itself today. 

In her months of living with him, Maddie had truly made the innermost part of their nest her own. Using ash and mashed berries and leaves, she’d taken to drawing on the stone wall, other than her daily tally marks. Recognizable images covered it. Her and Kelpie sitting on the beach. The little gecko she’d found in the Greater Forest—he wasn’t sure what Candy Corn was, but apparently, it was the perfect name for a creature with those colors—sitting on his favorite sunning rock. 

His personal favorite was the one she’d made of their trip to the northernmost island. It was of the two of them, when they’d been facing each other underwater. He didn’t know how she’d managed to make such a bright blue color for his eyes and spines, but it impressed him immensely. 

With a content rumble, he turned his gaze on the artist herself, who was halfway through her makeshift breakfast. Her long-disused jacket had been repurposed for bundling up a small pile of fruit for emergency late night snacks. Or, apparently, rainy day meals. 

She was humming softly, looking straight ahead in the way he’d come to understand meant she wasn’t truly looking at anything at all. Lost in thought. 

Godzilla watched her in silence, warm with the contentment that hadn’t left him since he first realized it was there. The months he had spent with her were not something he’d ever regret. Even the reaction he anticipated from Mothra wouldn’t be enough to make him change his mind on that. 

Maddie finally realized he was staring at her. She smiled at him as she stood to put the inedible remains on the large leaf she had beside her jacket stash for exactly that purpose. 

“Guess there’s nothing to do today, huh?” she asked even as a roar of thunder reverberated through them both. 

Nap, he huffed in good humor. He knew she was far too energetic to sleep an entire day away. 

“Nooo,” she whined. “Sleeping’s no fun…” 

Any day now, he expected she would realize she was so close to truly understanding him. With simple phrases or single words, she certainly seemed to. And if he was right, she wasn’t entirely aware of how little guessing she did anymore. 

Godzilla snorted. It’s not meant to be fun. Mm, but resting does sound nice right now. And he closed his eyes and made an effort to relax as if he was going to go back to sleep himself. 

There was silence from Maddie, but he held still, knowing that his tones of voice, as she heard them, were one of the first things she’d gotten very good at deciphering. She would recognize his teasing for what it was. 

She’d also gotten very good at moving undetected, he discovered with mirth, as she scrambled onto his knee without him ever hearing her move toward it. 

Now, the King of Titans wasn’t ticklish, as he knew Maddie was. But he’d like to see any of his kindred keep from chuckling at least a little when a human ran across their softer, unarmored skin. 

Maddie stuck her tongue out at him in victory when he rumbled and opened his eyes, effectively giving himself away. She stood at the edge of his stomach, and he retaliated by twisting around a little to make her lose her balance. 

She yelped as she slipped right off him, though he caught her before she could fall far. Laughing, she smacked the palm of his hand. “You started it!” 

Perhaps I really did want to take a nap, and you were disturbing me. I was merely defending myself.  

Maddie made a sound that was a passable imitation of his own snorts, considering she was a human child with vastly different vocal cords. “You always yawn a lot before you take a nap,” she told him. “And your tongue curls funny.” 

It curls funny? he repeated, mock-outraged. Depositing her on the nest’s soft floor, he leaned down, said, I’ll show you funny, and quickly licked up her side all the way to the top of her head. 

For humans, licking—in any capacity, he’d been sternly told—was gross and most often used as a form of retribution between siblings. Very different from Titans.

It also, he’d learned through experience, never failed to elicit a mixture of startled laughter—caused by the aforementioned ticklishness, he was sure—and indignant squealing. 

He sat back, satisfied, as Maddie lifted the hem of her shirt to wipe her cheek clean. She glared fiercely at him, but the effect was rather ruined by the way her hair stood up funny on the side he’d licked. 

Godzilla laughed, deliberately rumbling louder than normal. She sniffed her shoulder and wrinkled her nose. Flopping back, she cried, “Rude! You know your spit smells funny!” 

Not to me. 

She stuck her tongue out at him. Maddie laid there for another minute before hopping up. She wasn’t one to stay knocked down for long. He watched, smiling in his inhuman way, as she went over to one of his his hands. 

“Do you think it’ll rain all day?” she asked as she nudged him into holding his palm flat up. 

Letting her do as she liked, Godzilla twisted his head around to look back out over the mountains and stormy sky. The rain hadn’t let up, lightning flashed even as he watched, and the continuous low rumble of thunder—which had gone mostly unnoticed, he realized—was broken every now and then by a violent crashing boom. 

Yes, he decided as he turned back. He shook his head a little to try and get the water off his face. Perhaps through the night as well. 

“Darn,” Maddie said. She was laying down now, in his palm, her arms and legs stretched out with room to spare. “Your hand is bigger than me.” 

It is, yes, he agreed with a nod and a chuckle. All of me is bigger than you. 

“Were you always so big?” 

Godzilla thought for a moment. I’m not sure. I was certainly much smaller as a baby, but I couldn’t say how I would have compared to a human. 

Maddie turned onto her side and curled up. Her hair still stood funny and he huffed at the sight. 

“I’m getting better at holding my breath.” 

He wondered what it was like in a human child’s brain at times like these, when her thoughts jumped from one topic to another with no obvious connection. I know, he said. I’m very proud. 

Whether she understood him word-for-word or not, his meaning had to be apparent with the way his chest puffed up and a deep rumbling purr started in the back of his throat. 

The way she smiled told him it was. “I’ll beat you someday.” 

You absolutely will, he said with complete confidence. Godzilla carefully curled his fingers a little, making a little canopy of sorts above Maddie. 

“I know what you’re doing,” she said sternly, just before yawning. “I’m not tired.” 

You don’t have to be tired to sleep. Sometimes, resting just feels nice. 

“Can we go swimming once it stops raining?” She yawned again and curled up a little tighter in his hand. “And I gotta check on Candy Corn and the others.” 

Of course, Godzilla promised. He would never say no to swimming, provided it was safe to do so. And we can go to the northern island again, if you’d like. 

“Yeah,” Maddie said sleepily. Her eyes started to drift shut for longer periods of time. “Can we visit some of the other islands too? I wanna see the wolves…” 

Of course she did. He chuckled and settled himself more comfortably. Eventually, he answered. You’ll see all the other islands eventually. 

Her breathing deepened. “’Kay,” she mumbled. 

Godzilla waited to see if she’d speak again, but it seemed like she’d fully drifted off. Smiling to himself, he closed his eyes. The rain was cool on his back, their nest was soft beneath him, and that little spot of warmth in his hand brought him more happiness than he could put into words. 

Chapter Text

Maddie. Maddie!

Someone was calling to her and sounding increasingly worried the longer she didn’t respond. She blearily opened her eyes. “Mm. Wh’t?” 

Everything sort of ached dully. Maddie groaned and curled herself into a ball, wishing she hadn’t been woken up, because she hadn’t felt so yucky while she was sleeping. It wasn’t often she got cold during the night, not with Godzilla radiating heat and blocking any wind, but she realized she was shivering now. 

Maddie, you must stay awake. 

“Why?” she whined. 

You’re sick, Godzilla said. I can smell the rot. 

She twisted her head back and forth in denial, even though she certainly felt sick, now that she was a little more awake and aware. “I’m not rotting,” she told him a little indignantly. 

He huffed. Not that sort of rot. It is decay, like… He trailed off. It’s injury that causes illness. 

“Oh.” Maddie thought for a second. “Y’mean an infection?” 

If that is the word humans use, then yes. You— 

“And you can smell it?” She wrinkled her nose and finally pried her eyes open. It was still dark out, and she couldn’t see much of anything. “What’s it smell like?” 

Godzilla sighed. Later, Maddie. You have a fever. 

“I do?” She pressed her palm to her forehead. She didn’t feel hot. “But I’m cold.” 

There was a grim sort of humor in his voice when he responded, Yes, that’s how fevers usually work. Are you in pain? 

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, nodding. “And I’m tired.” 

I know, Maddie, I know. You can sleep soon, but we must go to the hot springs. 

“Now?” 

A soft nudge against her back startled her. With effort, she rolled over. Godzilla was only a slightly darker outline against the dark sky. 

Yes, now. Come, I’ll carry you. 

As much as Maddie wanted to go back to sleep, she really hated being sick, so if the hot springs were supposed to help, then she’d get up. Her legs felt a little wobbly beneath her at first, but when she went to take a step forward, she nearly collapsed from the horrible pain in her lower left leg. 

She couldn’t help but cry out as she immediately took her weight off it. The nest was suddenly lit up by Godzilla’s spines. She squinted at the light, even though it was soft and dim and not nearly as bright as she knew he could make it. Her head hurt a little too. 

With her sight returned, Maddie looked down at the spot where the pain had come from and gasped. 

Yesterday, she had slipped a little while running around the Mountains. It’d resulted in a scrape up the side of her leg, just a few inches below her knee. She’d gotten worse cuts learning how to ride a bike. 

Then, blood had beaded on the surface of her skin, and it stung when she poked at it, but like many kids, once she got over the initial shock of hurting herself, she went right back to playing with little thought. It wasn’t like she could go to her mom for a bandaid, anyway. 

Her day had continued as normal afterwards. She’d eaten, she’d swam with Kelpie in the Cove, she played tic-tac-toe with Candy Corn, who was very smart, and she’d gone to bed. 

The scrape had been entirely forgotten by the time she fell asleep. 

But now, even with the blue tinge from Godzilla’s light, she could see how angry the skin around the cuts had gotten. It burned hotly beneath her fingers when she brushed them lightly across it. 

Maddie looked up at Godzilla, suddenly a little scared. 

His eyes were soft and comforting. The hot springs will help, he promised. I know it hurts, Maddie, but I need you to come closer. I can’t pick you up from here. 

She took a couple deep breaths and nodded. Walking seemed out of the question, and the nest floor was too squishy to hop across, so she ended up scooting over in a slightly-modified crab-walk. 

Godzilla was even more careful than usual when he lifted her out of the nest. She stayed quiet as he made his way down to the beach in the dark. 

“I didn’t know,” she eventually said as they entered the caves. Her voice sounded small even to her. 

He rumbled comfortingly. Understandable. You’ve managed to avoid injuries for the most part all these months. 

Maddie managed to smile. “Mom would’ve called it a miracle. I was always coming home from school with new bandaids and ice packs.” 

She’d been lucky to have avoided something like this for as long as she had. Thinking back, she remembered scrapped knuckles and skinned knees, bruises and splinters, palms and soles rubbed raw. That she hadn’t gotten an infection before really was a miracle. 

Rather than set her in one of the smaller hot springs that she’d started to think of as hers, Godzilla descended into his own with Maddie still in his hand. 

This will sting, he warned her apologetically. 

She nodded and preemptively clenched her jaw. He slowly lowered his hand below the surface so the water rose up shallowly around her. Madde felt every inch of it cover the scrape. It hurt. 

Closing her eyes against the throbbing in her head from the hot springs’ natural light, she scrunched her face up. A few tears trailed down her cheeks. At least she wasn’t cold anymore. 

The hot water also eased the terrible ache in the rest of her body, though she hoped Godzilla didn’t let her go. Swimming sounded exhausting right now. Despite the sharp sting in her leg, she was still very tired, and the soothing warmth wasn’t helping her stay awake. 

Godzilla didn’t submerge her past her stomach, so, minding her leg, she leaned back against his half-raised fingers. Maddie fought to keep her eyes open even as she began to relax, the pain slowly beginning to fade. 

Sleep, Maddie, Godzilla huffed quietly. I have you. 

There were few places she could be safer than cradled in his gentle hold. So she nodded, whispered her thanks, and let herself slip into sleep. 

• • • 

Even before Maddie opened her eyes, she knew Godzilla hadn’t moved so much as an inch since she’d last been awake. Hot water soaked her clothes and she recognized the sounds of the cave almost immediately. 

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep this time, especially since it was dark underground anyway, but she felt a lot better. A little stronger, her head didn’t really hurt anymore, and her leg ached only slightly.

The first thing Maddie saw was the crystal-studded ceiling, and she knew it was at least morning by the way they seemed to capture the sunlight that came through the cave’s opening. The next thing she saw was Godzilla as he leaned over her at the first sign of her being awake. 

She heard the relief in his voice clear as day. Maddie. How are you feeling? 

“Better,” she said, sitting up. Without fully raising her leg out of the water, she cautiously twisted it to look at the scrape. The angry redness had dulled to a less scary pink—though that might be from the hot water, since it always made her a little pink if she stayed in long enough—and now she could see the slightest swelling around the scrape. 

The cuts themselves were even smaller and much less fresh looking. If asked, she would’ve guessed they were a week old. They’d probably be gone by the end of the day. 

Her skin was still tender when she poked at it, though, so she straightened her leg out and left it alone. 

“Do I still smell like rot?” she asked, tilting her head back to face Godzilla. 

He took a deep breath through his nose that even she knew was exaggerated and shook his head. No. Even with the hot springs, I can tell you’re healing well. We caught it in time, before it could do you serious harm. 

“That’s good.” Maddie bit her lip, trying not to imagine what would’ve happened if Godzilla hadn’t noticed last night. How much worse would she have felt this morning if the infection had even longer to spread through her? 

Thank goodness he had such a good sense of smell. If she’d woken up feeling bad, but unable to see that anything was wrong… 

Maddie frowned in realization. “Wait. It was super dark last night when you woke me up.”

Yes? 

“And I had my eyes closed half the time!” 

…yes? 

“How’d I know what you were saying if I wasn’t even looking at you?” she cried. She still relied so much on his expressions and body language to help her understand his meaning. Didn’t she? 

Godzilla chuckled. You’ve been growing better at hearing me, Maddie, for quite some time now, he said as clear and coherent to her as if he were any English-speaking human. You truly didn’t notice? 

Maddie shook her head. “But… how do you sound so… normal?” 

The details of our communication are unclear even to me. It simply is. I knew it would happen, the same as I know other things. Instinct, in some way, I suppose. 

She nodded slowly. It made sense, kinda. After all, she was pretty sure everyone was born knowing what cooties were without needing to have those explained. 

“That’s so weird,” she eventually said. “So you don’t actually sound like a human to yourself?” 

He rumble-laughed. I would guess not. 

“Huh.” Maddie sat back, leaning on her hands behind her. “Cool.” She stared into the middle distance for a minute before saying, a little wonderingly, “I’m not freaking out.”

You’ve had time to get used to it, in small amounts. Your guessing game likely kept it feeling as if it were just that: a game. Godzilla tossed his head with a proud, wild grin. And you are remarkably accepting of new and wonderful things. Your curiosity is boundless. 

Neither of them brought up the volcano, but if Maddie knew Godzilla at all—and she did—then he was thinking about it the same as her. 

And it hit Maddie fully just then, that she was having an honest-to-goodness, full-on, back-and-forth conversation with Godzilla, no guessing or loose interpretation needed. Even if she’d been doing it before now, she hadn’t really realized, so it didn’t count then. 

She hadn’t known how much she missed talking with someone until just now, when she was doing it without any language barrier. 

Her surroundings blurred with the sudden onset of stupid tears, happy tears but stupid nonetheless. She bowed her head and pressed her hands against her eyes. 

If Godzilla said anything, she didn’t hear it, but she felt herself leave the water a little before being gently deposited on the edge of the hot spring so her leg was still below the surface.

The water sloshed up over the lip, and her curiosity made her lift her face from her hands. Godzilla’s head was half-submerged so he was level with her. He pushed forward. 

Maddie beamed, and it was only a tiny bit wobbly. She closed her eyes, ignoring her tears for the moment, and leaned up against him, forehead to the scales of his snout. 

She sighed, happy and tired and amazed, and Godzilla huffed back with more fondness than she knew what to do with. 

Chapter Text

“This feels like something you wouldn’t want me doing,” Maddie said as she set aside the rock in her hand. Her fingers were a little scraped up from the many times her hands slipped over the past hour or so. She was perched on a sizable boulder on the far end of the Meadow, beside a decent river cutting through the land, with Candy Corn sunning himself next to her.

Godzilla, from where he was lying in the marshy land that marked the transition from the grass to the ocean, snorted. Certainly, if you were attempting this on your own. But catching food is an important skill to learn. Any time you want to eat something other than fruit, you’ll be able to without my assistance. 

“Fair. But still.” She lifted the ragged, makeshift spear she’d just finished sharpening. “I’m surprised sharp and pointy things aren’t on the List.” 

He sighed. So am I. 

The List. With Maddie’s full understanding of Godzilla came a short set of rules that he was finally able to tell her. There were only five, and nothing too unreasonable. 

One, never bring a human to the archipelago. The islands were apparently protected from outsiders, so only someone who had been there could find it. This included bringing others to it. And it was Godzilla’s number one rule, that she was never, ever allowed to show another human the way. 

Maddie thought it was a silly rule. Who would she bring here? How would she even find someone to bring here? 

Back when she’d brought it up, he’d shook his head grimly. We can’t be certain of what the future holds. But I have seen humans, I have known them, and for that, I cannot trust them. 

She’d frowned. “But you trust me.” 

Yes, he’d promised, and there had been no more said on the matter. 

Number two, Dead Valley is entirely off limits. As curious about it as she might’ve been, especially after Godzilla explained everything he knew about that misty strip of land, she wasn’t eager to repeat her first experience there. 

The thought of not-Andrew plagued her, though, and somewhere deep in her, Maddie suspected this was a rule she would someday break. 

The third rule was don’t even think about trying to look into the volcano. She’d only stared back at him in silence when he told her that one, and he had sighed and huffed about it, since she never verbally agreed to this one. Regardless, it was on the List, even though it felt more like a joke than anything. 

(She would climb that volcano someday.) 

Four, no climbing the Cliff without supervision. Maddie hadn’t had any arguments about that. The rock wall at the fair used harnesses and ropes, and you weren’t allowed to go up without one of the workers watching you, so duh Maddie wouldn’t try to climb the Cliff on her own. 

And the fifth and final rule was no swimming past the Cove’s outer reef after nightfall. Unless Godzilla was with her. They’d been out in the ocean, swimming in the dark, several times since the List was first made. The best part was that as long as she didn’t pass the outer reef, she could swim in the Cove whenever she wanted.

So, no sharp and pointy things, like spears, were included on the List. And between Maddie being bored and Godzilla wanting her to know how to hunt, here she was, about to use a spear for the first time. 

“How do I know if it’s sharp enough?” she asked, touching the tip with her finger. It didn’t seem very sharp, but she supposed it didn’t really have to be if she was shoving it very fast into something soft. 

Godzilla huffed, eyeing her work. Trial and error. You’ll find what works best for you. 

“You don’t know, do you?” 

He rolled his head and rumble-laughed. I have seen humans use spears before, but it was a very long time ago. And since I hardly have need of them myself… 

“Yeah… trial and error it is.” Maddie hopped off the boulder, her feet sinking into the squishy ground a little. She gave Candy Corn a little stroke down his back before leaving him to his sunning and small pile of berries.

Maddie went to the riverbank and stopped, looking down into the clear running water. “I should probably stay out of the water, right?” 

Yes. Someday, you might have the patience to stand still for several minutes at a time, but that is not today. Godzilla paused and lifted his head. Show me how you would try to spear a fish without instruction. And please, Maddie, be careful. 

She tossed a grin over her shoulder at him before focusing on the shadowy movement beneath the surface. After a few seconds, she rammed her spear downward. She was neither surprised nor disappointed to find she had missed. 

Aim lower, unless you are standing directly above the fish, Godzilla told her. The water plays tricks on you. 

She tried again, and though she still missed, she was pretty sure she at least got a little closer. 

This continued for some time, Maddie getting a little quicker and a little closer with each jab. Since the river wasn’t too deep here, they’d decided to stick with the basics and try actually throwing her spear some other day. 

“Can we please be done?” Maddie asked after what felt like a small eternity. The sun had only moved a little, so they’d probably only been at this for an hour or so. Her arm ached, the sun was unusually hot above them, and she still hadn’t caught anything. “I don’t think I’m getting any better.” 

Godzilla chuckled. It will take time and practice to see much improvement. Your aim is good, it’s a matter of hitting the fish before it can move now. You anticipate hitting the bottom, which is making you pull back at the last second. Pretend like there is no riverbed, and you need to shove the spear as far down into open water as you can. 

Maddie didn’t feel like she’d been slowing herself down, but then, Godzilla knew more about spearfishing than she did. Trying to pretend like she was standing on a drop-off with the fathomless ocean in front of her, Maddie eyed a fish and stabbed down. 

The jerk of hitting the bottom reverberated up her arm, making her let go of her spear. It flopped into the water with a little splash as she shook her stinging hand out. 

“I don’t think—” She cut herself off as the spear shifted a little, revealing the small fish impaled on the end. “I… I got it?” 

Rumbling loudly, Godzilla called, You snack is floating away from you, Maddie. 

With a little yelp, she jumped forward into the river, delighting in the chilly water, and snatched up her catch. Standing knee deep in the stream, she proudly looked up at Godzilla. He hummed down at her, smiling as much as he could. 

“Candy Corn!” Maddie yelled over at her still-sunning friend. She wiggled the occupied spear tip in the air, high above her head. “I caught a fish! Haha!” She kicked around, sending droplets of water flying. 

Congratulations, Godzilla said. Would you like to go cook it up? 

“Yeah!” Maddie scrambled out of the river to transfer Candy Corn to her shoulder before running off through the Meadow in the direction of the Cove, too excited to wait for Godzilla, who sometimes took forever to stand up. 

By the time he arrived at the Cove, she had just finished getting her fire to a decent size. “When can we start practicing throwing?” she asked as she got the fish ready. Maddie glanced up at him in time to see him side-eye the discarded spear. 

After you’re comfortable with the stabbing motion. 

“After I’m comfortable, or you’re comfortable?” 

He grumbled. Let me have a few more days of not having to think about you tossing sharp things around. 

“Oh, fine. Worrywart.” Maddie carefully watched the fish, because there was a pretty short window of time between ‘starting to look cooked enough’ and ‘ew I burned it.’ 

When she finally pulled it away from the fire, she pushed it onto the flat stone that served as her plate and began to pick it apart in quick bursts to avoid burning herself. As she waited for it to cool down a little more, Maddie looked up. 

Candy Corn had taken an immediate liking to Kelpie when they first met, and he took the chance to lie on the sea turtle’s shell whenever the opportunity presented itself. Kelpie never seemed to mind, and was always careful to make sure Candy Corn wasn’t still on him before returning to the water. Right now, they were lounging together at the very edge of the water, not far from Godzilla, who was back to lazing around on the beach. 

“You’ve been sleepy a lot more,” Maddie said. 

Mmm. I think I’m going to need to take a little trip again soon. My radiation needs to be recharged. He blinked slowly at her. 

“So you’ll be gone for a few days, right? Is that why you want me to learn how to catch fish on my own?” 

One of the reasons. The other… Godzilla trailed off before snorting and shaking his head. It doesn’t matter. I can wait a little longer, for you to have more practice. 

Maddie began to nibble at the fish, digging out the edible parts from the rest. “How often are you supposed to recharge?” It’d been months since that first and only time he’d ever left her alone. 

Godzilla sighed. If I spend at least a full day in the temple, then once every two months would be fine. It’s easier to wait longer when I don’t use my star-fire. 

She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “And if I wasn’t here, how often would you go?” 

Perhaps once a month. I used to go even more frequently, when I had nothing else to do. But I don’t need— 

“Then you go once a month.” Then, because it always sounded good when her parents said it, she gave him a single, determined nod and declared, “And that’s final!” 

His whole body shook with his rumbling amusement. Very well, once every thirty days. He closed his eyes and growled in the back of his throat, considering something. If I leave just before dark, I can be back on the second morning before you even wake up. 

“Tonight, then?” Maddie asked, looking up at the sky. The sun was still high above them, leaving hours until nightfall. 

Godzilla didn’t answer right away. Only if you’re okay with that. 

“I even promise not to touch the volcano. Or Dead Valley. Or the Cliffs. Or—”

You aren’t helping, he interrupted her with a little chuckle. Perhaps you could stay in the nest all day? 

He was just joking, she knew that, but just this once… “Okay. I’ll make sure to bring food and stuff up later.” 

Godzilla swung his head up. I didn’t mean— 

“It’ll make you feel better. I don’t mind, there’s something I’ve been wanting to do, anyway, and I can do it in the nest just fine.” She grinned. “Don’t get used to it.” 

He stared at her for a minute before pushing himself up just enough to move a little. When he resettled himself in the sand, his head was just behind Maddie, allowing her to lean back against his cheek. 

Thank you, he said. I’ll wait to leave until after you’ve fallen asleep. 

Maddie nodded and relaxed. If she was on her best behavior, maybe she could convince him to take her to see the wolves after he got back. 

Chapter Text

Godzilla swam home after his third time out to recharge since his and Maddie’s agreement, though they’d switched the pattern to thirty-five days so she could keep track easier with her tally marks. He’d pushed this one back an extra week or so, though, because he refused to make a trip next month. 

During his first trip, Maddie had spent her time in their nest making a simple calendar of sorts. Less to keep track of individual days and more to figure out when her birthday was. Now two countdowns had joined her tallies, one for her birthday and the other… the other for the anniversary of the battle. 

Also known as the probable deaths of her parents and brother. Only days later would be her first full year at the archipelago. 

Maddie would be turning eight in just a few weeks. She’d spent the day of his return telling him about what birthdays meant to humans, and fondly recounting some old memories of past celebrations. 

Eight years old. So young, so small. She was growing, he knew, and he saw it in the little dashes she left in the hot springs cave, in the way her clothes weren’t quite as loose as they once were. Regardless, the point remained: she was a child. 

And this was where he roughly shook his head in a futile attempt to ignore his own thoughts. 

He had no right, no true claim. She wasn’t his child. 

Yet, he could argue it both ways. There may not be any shared blood between them, but surrogates existed. Had Godzilla not found comfort in stand-ins himself once? Hadn’t bonds-of-no-blood come to mean just as much to him as anything? 

He swam with her, he taught her to hunt, he rescued her when she was in trouble and did his best to dissuade her from anything truly dangerous. He watched over her at night, he took care of her when she was sick, he showed her the best places to explore. He let her learn and grow and experience new things despite his worries. 

Didn’t that matter? Didn’t that make her…

Godzilla snarled into the water, frustrated and distressed, much as he’d rather deny it. 

The problem, he thought, was that humans were so different in some ways to him and his kindred, and so similar in others. Because taking care of a youngling like he was with Maddie, to any Titan, would make her his child in the most important way—which wasn’t blood. But how would a human see it? 

Humans. So complicated. Godzilla grumbled to himself, knowing from experience just how confusing humans could be. Did they want his help or did they want to kill him? Did they think he was a deity or a demon? Did they call his presence protection or a curse? 

Certainly, they saw him as a common beast. And wasn’t that his answer? No animal could be a parent to a human child. 

The troublesome thought of but would Maddie agree with them? came back, as it had every time he had this exact argument with himself. 

He lashed his tail and realized his spines had started glowing without him noticing. Allowing his star-fire to bubble and and flare in his chest, fresh and powerful from recharging, made him feel a little better. The water around his mouth boiled harmlessly against his scales. 

Of course, ending his self-inflicted torment was as simple as asking her. There was no chance of a mistranslation anymore, no chance that she wouldn’t understand his meaning. But he wouldn’t ask, he knew that, because on this matter, he felt quite the coward. 

Godzilla continued on like this for the short remainder of his swim, going back and forth on why and why not Maddie should and shouldn’t be considered his child. Thoughts of her approaching birthday, and the anniversary of the battle, were secondary but still managed to slip in amongst the rest.

He emerged from the deeper waters at long last, beginning the trek through the shallows to the beach. It was midday, so Maddie could be anywhere. He raised his snout to try and get an idea of where to start looking, and immediately caught the distinct and horrible smell of Maddie’s blood. 

• • • 

Maddie didn’t know how to sew, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try her best. Her best, as it turned out, was very bad. 

It started, you see, a week ago, when Noodle the ferret-ish creature got a little too excited while they were playing in the Meadow and her tiny little claws snagged on Maddie’s shirt. It wasn’t bad, just a small hole, really. 

A few days later, Maddie got the snag caught on the rough edge of a hot spring when she was pulling herself out. It was undeniably a rip at that point, but—what was she supposed to do about it? So, she ended up ignoring it. 

It became impossible to ignore this morning. At some point, between going up to the nest last night and breakfast this morning, something happened so she ended up finding a tear about four inches long and more than an inch wide. The fabric around it was frayed and bunched up funny, and Maddie had absolutely no idea how to fix it. 

Back home, it wouldn’t have been a problem. She just would’ve gotten a new shirt from her dresser and left her mom to decide what to do with the ripped one. But this was the only shirt she had, so Maddie realized she was going to have to get creative. 

Sewing was about the only option she could think of. She’d never done it before, and had maybe only seen someone sew things once or twice without a sewing machine, but how hard could it be? 

All she needed was a thin stick with a sharp point and a hole on the other end—a needle-thin tooth from a very toothy fish she’d found recently would probably work—and something to use as thread. After her recent project of making a hammock for Candy Corn from vines, she figured those would be good enough. If you pulled at a little piece like string cheese, it’d come apart in much thinner segments. 

Finding a way to attach the vine pieces to the tooth was a challenge, but doable. The actual sewing part? Not so much. 

“I don’t think I’m doing this right,” she told Noodle, who was on one of her rare ventures out of the Meadow. They were sitting in the grass at the edge of the Lesser Forest, because sand made Noodle nervous, and Maddie didn’t dare sit in the sun for hours on end without a shirt. 

That was just asking for trouble, and she’d been trying to get better at not doing that recently. 

Staring down at the rip, spread out over her lap, with haphazard lines of vines crisscrossing it left and right, she frowned. 

“Maybe I should’ve pulled the edges of the hole together,” she said. Candy Corn, tangled up in his hammock, made a sort of peep sound. “But that would’ve made my shirt shorter on that side.”

Maddie sighed and kept going, poking the tooth through the fabric on one side before coming back through across the hole. She left the vine loose enough not to pull, but tight enough not to flop around.

“Ow,” she hissed as she pricked her finger again. At least the excess of vine covered up the little spots of blood now dotting her shirt. The tooth was just so sharp, even just lightly touching the end of it pierced her skin. 

“I hope I never get bitten by the fish I got this from.” In, out, in, out. “Ow.” 

Noodle squeaked and tumbled around at Maddie’s side. Candy Corn stayed snuggled in his mess of slightly swaying vines. 

“Can you imagine having these as your own teeth? I’d bite myself a lot, probably… ow.” 

Maddie bit her lip in concentration, pretty close to finishing up. Noodle ran up to the edge of the grass, batted the sand, and backflipped away. 

It was lucky for her that she hadn’t been trying to push the needle-tooth through when the ground rumbled. She was even luckier to know Noodle as well as she did, because she was able to quickly raise the tooth above her head, trailing vine-thread, when the startled ferret lunged into her lap. 

“It’s just Godzilla,” Maddie told her. “You know him. He’s not scary.” 

Accepting this easily, Noodle popped right back out of her lap and went to go stand on her hind legs to sniff at Candy Corn’s hammock. Even though it was pretty high off the ground, Noodle was exceptionally stretchy and had no trouble poking the vines with her nose. 

“Okay. Now… a knot, I think? That’s how you finish, right? I went in every direction I could, I covered the rip, so I’m done.” Not expecting any advice from her companions, she went ahead and slid the vine over and under different loops to secure it before making a double knot. 

The finished product looked like a very messy and somewhat loose green spiderweb had been made over the rip, but y’know what, she was okay with that. Better than a big hole, at any rate.

The ground continued to rumble, much faster than usual. Godzilla must’ve been in a hurry or something. 

“Ow,” Maddie absently said as she stabbed herself again. Using the tooth, she picked at the vine just past the knot to cut off the extra length. “Ow.” 

Maddie! 

She lifted her head and smiled. “Welcome back!” she called, waving with her empty hand. She jabbed the needle into the grass like it was a spear, so she wouldn’t lose track of it. 

What’s wrong? Godzilla asked as he stomped across the Cove before dropping to his forelimbs right in front of her. 

She yelped. The ground really shook when he did that. “Oh, it’s fine. I ripped my shirt, so I was just fix—”

No, where are you hurt? 

“Hurt?” Maddie tilted her head and frowned up at him. “But I’m not hurt.” 

I smell your blood. 

Wrinkling her nose, Maddie looked down. “That’s gross, Godzilla. I swear, I’m not hurt. Oh, except—” She held up her hands, which were covered in little red lines and dots. “Huh. I guess I stabbed myself more than I thought.” 

His relieved exhale washed over her. 

“Oops.” 

I was worried. What were you using, to so easily cut yourself? 

Maddie yanked the needle out of the dirt and held it up. “A fish’s tooth!” 

Godzilla rumbled as he leaned back. Clever. 

“Thanks!” she said as she popped to her feet, casting the rest of the vines aside. She shook her shirt out and held it up so he could see her work. “Not bad, for my first try, huh? I mean, I don’t think that’s how it’s s’posed to look, but I definitely patched the hole up.” She laughed as she slid her arms through.

You did a wonderful job, he told her. Now, to the hot springs with you, Pup. 

Maddie finished tugging her shirt over her head and looked up at Godzilla, who had gone very still. Since he looked pretty spook-able just then, Maddie only smiled brightly, scooped up Noodle so she wouldn’t have to touch the sand, and ran off down the beach.

“Race you!” she called back once she got enough of a head start. The Cove echoed with his challenging roar in response. 

Pup. She liked that. 

Chapter Text

Maddie pushed through the waving seaweed at the ocean floor and kept her mouth tightly clamped shut against her need to laugh when a startled fish shot away from her. Kelpie zoomed past her and dove to skim over the mounds of coral. 

Following along behind him, Maddie traced her fingers across the coral’s rough surface. She looked up as something moved above her. A group of jellyfish slowly pulsed by, the sun shafts passing through them like glass. It was darker at this depth than she was mostly used to, but she wasn’t so deep to lose light entirely.

She found an empty sandy patch and managed to lie down—as much as one could in the water—facing the surface. 

The ocean was so clear around her, teeming with brightly colored life. Kelpie and a few others from his family circled around a slow-moving school of silvery fish. Little creatures she didn’t know the names of danced over the nearby coral. Much farther away, so far they were only a vague series of hazy dark shapes, she spotted what were probably whales. 

Closer, between her and the island, Godzilla floated lazily on the surface. It was funny to see him at this angle, with his limbs hanging beneath him like a crocodile. 

Maddie closed her eyes and went limp, allowing the subtle tides to nudge her this way and that. It was so peaceful, so quiet. 

Eventually, she straightened and pushed herself off the sand. She’d been underwater for a long time, and even though her lungs weren’t really hurting yet, she didn’t want to take chances. Maddie would take chances on plenty of things, but drowning? Nope. Give her a volcano any day. 

She popped her head above the waves and took an unhurried breath. It was so different from the days of having holding-your-breath contests with Andrew, and lasting only thirty seconds or so before her lungs felt ready to explode. She’d resurface gasping for air. 

Swimming towards Godzilla, she tried to remember the last time her lungs had hurt from being underwater too long. It had to have been months ago. 

Godzilla opened the eye facing her as she approached. He rumbled, wordless but unmistakably happy, and turned his head closer to her. With a simple dip of his snout, he scooped her up and held still so she could climb to the top of his head. 

The sun was just beginning to near the horizon when Maddie finished getting comfortable.

“I was down there for a long time,” she said softly. It felt like a quiet day now, after all the excitement that had occurred earlier. Provided she’d counted right, she was officially eight years old. 

You were, Godzilla agreed. He didn’t speak any louder than her. Did it hurt? 

“No. I could’ve kept going for a while, I think.” 

She could hear his smile, his pride, when he responded, That’s my Pup. 

Maddie stayed silent as she lay down on her side to press her cheek against his scales. The sunset was turning out to be beautiful, all sorts of colors painting the sky. The sun shone gold, with cotton-candy clouds drifting above it, and a gradient of blues and purples and reds blooming from the ocean. 

She hummed a nonsense song of her own making and watched the waves. Absently, she touched her tongue to her most recent wiggly tooth. It shifted back and forth with only a slight twinge when she pushed at it. A few more days, and she’d be able to pull it out with no trouble. 

There were two gaps she was dealing with right now, one where the adult tooth was half grown in, while the other had only the point poking through her gums. Maddie couldn’t be entirely sure—having never studied an adult’s teeth to any significant degree—but she was reasonably confident that hers were a little too sharp. 

Not too long ago, her food options had expanded after Godzilla had started allowing her to spend time on the wolves’ island. Though they’d taken time to warm up to her, most had decided Maddie was a friend after she had the chance to show them how nice being pet was. 

The wolves didn’t eat fish, they ate whatever small animals were unfortunate enough to be found by them. The meat they shared with her, once cooked enough to not be gross, was tough and thick and not at all like fish. She had to dig her teeth in and fight to pull a bite away from the chunk. 

As good as it was to have variety, it had made her jaw sore from how much ripping and tearing was involved. But then it started to get a little easier as more of her adult teeth started to come in. 

It wasn’t a big deal, as far as Maddie was concerned. They probably wouldn’t even be noticeable, not that she had any way to see for herself. If her teeth were in fact sharper than they were supposed to be. 

And that was one of Maddie’s main frustrations. She didn’t know what was normal. Not with her teeth or anything else, like her recent hearing troubles. 

The island experienced a simple rainstorm just a few weeks ago. It was the perfect sort of pitter-patter that she’d always loved sitting back and listening to. They’d become much more frequent these past few months, and as long as there wasn’t thunder or lightning, she and Godzilla had gone swimming in the rain a few times, which was almost as great as swimming at night. 

But this time, the sound of the rapid pat-pat-pat against leaves and stones and water had driven her crazy. It had hurt. It'd felt like she couldn’t hear anything else, like the rain was in her skull, pounding and thundering against her ears from the inside. 

She’d curled up amidst the giant trees of the Greater Forest, Noodle nuzzling against her neck, and screamed for Godzilla. The island had quaked from his rush to find her, not a single moment of hesitation between her cry and the first of his heavy footsteps. 

He found her on the ground, face screwed up and teary, watery blood streaking her temples from where she’d scratched herself while trying to cover her ears. 

The rain hadn’t bothered her as badly as that since. Certainly never enough to result in Godzilla curling so tightly around her she couldn’t see or hear anything other than him and his great big breaths and his powerful heartbeat.

But sometimes, if she sat still and closed her eyes, she thought she could hear the light footsteps and fluttering wings of every creature in both sides of the Forest. 

At least her sharp teeth didn’t hurt her. 

Maddie’s ears weren’t causing her trouble today, thank goodness, but she knew she could still hear more than she used to be able to. Godzilla’s heartbeat was just so clear and the waves lapping against his side were soft but impossible to ignore. 

Did you have a good birthday? Godzilla asked quietly. I know it wasn’t… He hesitated.

Not what she was used to, he was probably thinking. Not like what she wanted, he was probably worried about. Not like a human birthday, he was probably sorry for. 

“It was perfect,” she told him. The sun continued to sink, and on the far side of the sky, the brightest stars began to appear. “I’m gonna make a necklace out of that shark’s teeth.” 

Because he’d given her a shark he’d found, already dead, floating some distance away from the archipelago. She’d never touched a shark before, and she’d spent several long minutes simply running her fingers over its skin. 

Forget that she couldn’t do much with it, Maddie thought simply being able to say that she’d been given a shark for her birthday was the best. And she absolutely would make a necklace out of its teeth, because she had always wanted something like that, and how cool would it be to make it herself out of shark teeth straight from a shark she’d gotten as a birthday present?

“The coolest,” Maddie muttered to herself, caught up in imagining it. 

I’ll help you remove the teeth, if you’d like. 

“Yes, please!” She had no idea how to pull them out herself. “Thanks, Godzilla!” 

And then Maddie frowned. Because it kinda felt… not weird to call him that, but—not right? She rolled onto her stomach and stacked her fists to rest her chin on. 

Though she had no idea how, Godzilla must’ve been able to tell something was bothering her. Pup? Are you all right? 

“Yeah,” she said with a shrug. “Just, it feels funny to call you that.” 

Funny? 

“Mm.” Maddie kicked her feet through the air, back and forth. “Wrong-ish. It’d be like calling—”

Oh. Oh. It was the same sort of weird-wrong as it would’ve been if she’d ever called her dad by his first name. 

Maddie? Pup?

She tossed her arms out in front of her and let her forehead thunk against him. “Can I call you something else?” she asked, voice a little muffled. 

His bewilderment was clear. …If you want. Like what? 

Like what, indeed. No-way no-how was she calling him dad or any real variation of it. That was too much, too painful. She already had a dad, and she’d lost him, and she didn’t want to feel like she was replacing him or something. 

“I dunno.” 

She felt his rumbling chuckle. Well, there’s no rush, he said, and then he was moving. Maddie was gently tipped into the water so he could catch her up and hold her securely in his hand while he stood and began to head towards the Mountains. 

The sun finished going down before they got settled in the nest. Instead of releasing her onto the soft flooring, Godzilla lay down on his back in such a way that his spines didn’t bother him and set her on his chest. 

Stars twinkled in the ever-darkening sky above them. Maddie drew shapes between them with her eyes, thinking hard. She didn’t want to call him anything silly, or too close to his actual name. 

Just as her eyelids started drooping and the stars began to blur, Maddie hummed and sleepily said, “Thanks for today, G.” 

She felt his hand move to briefly cover her, gentle as always. You’re welcome, Pup. Sleep well. 

With a little nod, Maddie drifted off, Godzilla’s heartbeat steady and soothing beneath her. 

Chapter Text

Maddie was having a bad day. She was tired from not sleeping well, upset with the dreams she’d had when she did manage to sleep, and maybe those things wouldn’t usually bother her so much, but—it was the anniversary of San Francisco today. The day of the real battle, the day she’d become trapped all alone and scared, the day she first thought she was going to die. 

Godzilla, she knew, hadn’t slept much better. He rarely moved around in his sleep, but last night, he’d been shifting around like crazy. He had finally settled down sometime before the sun began to rise, and he didn’t even stir when Maddie had given up on resting any longer and slipped out of the nest. 

She hadn’t seen him since, though that might be because she was deep in the trees, right at the boundary between the Greater and Lesser Forests. The two bluebird siblings she’d watched grow up had joined her right away, as usual, and she sat on the grass with one on each of her knees. She slowly picked her breakfast apart, alternating a piece of fruit for her and pieces for them. 

The more skittish one had finally grown used to her presence, and it was just as eager as the other to perch on her these days. And finally, she had named them. 

It seemed only fitting, since she first compared them to herself and her own brother, to call them Andy and Mads. 

Andy, the one with slightly brighter feathers, hopped forward and back on her leg, chirping for his fruit. Mads, the one who was a little darker shade of blue, ruffled her feathers and trilled. They made for excellent listeners, Maddie had found. 

And on days like today, when she didn’t feel much like talking, they simply made for excellent companions. 

Maddie—shaking a little, with a terrible weight pressing against her lungs, making her heart beat heavy and fast—allowed herself to remember that day, one whole year ago. The way it had started so normally. The way it hadn’t been any different from any other. 

Mom and Dad had talked about grown-up things at breakfast. Andrew had sneakily slipped some of his scrambled eggs onto Maddie’s plate, in return for a piece of her waffle. They had planned to visit the library, since they’d finished all the books they’d gotten on their last trip. Dad had promised they could get lunch afterwards at their favorite cafe. 

It was supposed to have been a good day. 

When the first few things had started to go wrong, everything else had followed so quickly. Too quickly. It’d started to drizzle, which wasn’t that bad, but then—Dad had pulled out his phone. Frowned. Whispered to Mom. 

The ground had shook. It wouldn’t have been the first earthquake Maddie had experienced, but it—it hadn’t felt quite right. 

It got blurry after that. Had the smoke started before or after the power across the city went out? When did the explosions first rip through the air? The running and screaming—had it begun only when the first buildings fell, or sooner than that? 

And through it all, the ground had kept shaking. Deep trembles that came and went, and then got worse and worse until they turned a corner and a block’s worth of buildings was just gone. 

The memory of becoming trapped—of being separated from her family for the last time—had once been so clear. It wasn’t anymore. She’d had nightmares about it, she knew she had. She remembered those. 

But now—she remembered screaming for help, pushing ineffectually at the car, believing that she’d die there, in that little concrete crack. She remembered Godzilla most clearly, the way he’d pulled away the car, so tall and tired looking. How he’d picked her up. And then she’d slept and seen no more, not until they’d reached this very island. 

A year. Maddie very suddenly realized she hadn’t been to school in a year. She would’ve been in third grade by now. 

Mads pecked lightly at her finger. She obligingly offered the little bird a piece of fruit. 

“A year,” she repeated aloud. It sounded just as strange as it had in her head. It seemed like so long, but also like nothing at all. Maddie wiggled her toes. She couldn’t even think of when she’d last put her shoes on. 

Off to her side, a rustle of grass had her looking up. “Little Shadow!” she cried with a smile. “I was hoping you’d come see me today.” 

From a little packet made of leaves, Maddie pulled out one of the fish she’d caught—all by herself!—that morning and offered it to her friend. 

It’d taken time, and patience, but eventually, Little Shadow had done more than follow her around. She had been allowed to not only look at, but pet, the quiet creature who had turned out to be some sort of cat. 

Little Shadow was a sandy-tan color with a white underbelly and dark splotches that weren’t quite spots or stripes patterned across her back. On her forehead, they were definitely more like lines. Her eyes were dark and she was only a little bigger than any house cat Maddie had ever seen. 

In the trees, over branches almost too thin, she was impossibly nimble. Maddie had seen her scamper straight up a tree trunk without any trouble or misstep. 

Her friend took the fish and curled up against her leg, tail lazily thwapping around. Maddie absently pet her back, still caught up in her thoughts, even though her day had been significantly improved by the presence of her friends. 

She strained to recall anything from a year ago better, any little detail or word or expression. And instead, Maddie realized something else. 

“I can’t remember their voices,” she whispered. “I can’t remember what they sounded like.” 

In her head, she pictured her brother laughing, her mom and dad talking—but she could quite conjure the right sounds. They were all off. They didn’t fit the way they were supposed to. Even the most repeated, familiar phrases—her name, good mornings and good nights, I love you…

“I can’t remember,” Maddie repeated quietly. She hunched forward, arms wrapped around herself, and was struck by the thought that she hadn’t touched another human in a year. She hadn’t even seen another human in a year.

With a little whimper, Maddie tipped onto her side, Andy and Mads obligingly fluttering up to let her move her legs before resettling. Little Shadow allowed herself to be pulled closer as Maddie curled in on herself and started to cry. 

• • • 

This year had passed all too quickly for Godzilla. It’d been eventful and he’d been busy—an unusual occurrence for him. He’d learned so many new things, the greatest of which was how to take care of a human child. 

The battle itself, he was glad to put ever-further behind him. There was no pleasure to be found in that memory, but for his hard-won victory, and he was sure Maddie had felt his tossing and turning from agitation. 

He imagined the night had not passed any easier for his Pup, not when she was gone long before she ever usually stirred. On the wall, he'd seen she had already restarted the countdown besides her birthday. 

There was little comfort he felt he could offer, not when this day back then proved so different for each of them, so he didn’t immediately seek her out. Sometimes, solitude helped. Whether it would for her, he could only wait to see. 

It was a little after midday that he heard her approaching him from the Lesser Forest. He’d suspected she’d vanished into the trees, as she had friends in there (as she had friends anywhere on the island) who would do well as quiet company. 

Godzilla smelled the salt of her tears long before he saw the shiny trails they left over his Pup’s cheeks. 

He was curled on his side, half on the beach beside the Cove’s entrance, half in the particularly rough ocean. It was a windy day, though still sunny. He dragged his chin through the sand, opening the curve of his body to Maddie in silent invitation. 

Her hair and ragged shirt—bearing a second vine-repaired rip—blew around as she crossed the open space between him and the Lesser Forest. She sank down beside him as he tucked his head back where it had been, blocking off most of the wind. 

“I can’t remember their voices, G,” she told him, her voice thick with yet-unshed tears. “How could I have forgotten?” 

He heard recrimination. It’s not your fault, Pup, he said gently. Memories fade. We have little control over what fades first. Things that we haven’t seen or heard in some time—those are easiest to lose. 

There was still some measure of horror, or perhaps anger, in her voice when she insisted, “I should’ve remembered. They’re important.” 

Godzilla hummed, focusing on the oh-so-small spot of warmth pressing against the base of his neck. She was trembling. Sounds are difficult to keep, Maddie. Forgetting does not make you a bad person. He hesitated a moment, but when she didn’t answer except to burrow harder against him, he continued, I can’t recall what my parents sounded like. I… remember very little, actually, about them. Time is our enemy on this front, Pup. 

She breathed, steady. It was—and would always remain, he swore—such a comfort to him. For a tiny, delicate human, her lungs were strong. 

Take comfort in what you do remember, he said. I have faith you’ll keep much more than I have. 

“But I’ll still lose stuff,” she said, choking up. The smell of her sadness increased, her shoulders shook. “I’ll forget more about them.” 

Lying would only hurt her. I’m sorry, he said in answer. Do you know what helps? 

“No. What?” 

Talking about them. Keep those memories strong. Revisit them often. Godzilla rocked forward the slightest bit in lieu of a true nuzzle. The angle was all wrong for that. Tell me about your family, Pup. And then, if you forget, I will try to help you remember.  

Chapter Text

A year. Twelve months. Three hundred and sixty-five days. And every minute had been spent without his daughter. 

Mark sat at the kitchen table in their Colorado cabin and stared off into space. Andrew was still sleeping, but once he was up, they had most of the day planned out. It was easier to face, knowing there wouldn’t be oppressive silence. 

A year. It had dragged at times, but now, looking back, it seemed to have gone by so quickly. Maddie’s absence was still strongly felt, but it didn’t gouge a hole through his heart anymore. The gap had begun to close, or fill with other things. 

He could never be grateful enough to Andrew for saving him from himself, much as his son shouldn’t have had to in the first place. They’d leaned on each other throughout their healing, and now, a year later, they still stood strong. 

Andrew emerged from his bedroom not long after Mark finished his coffee. The kid was wearing his favorite Red Sox shirt and was sporting some impressive bedhead. He yawned as he bumped into the edge of the kitchen counter. 

Once his son had woken up a little more, the two of them made breakfast—Maddie’s favorite—and settled down on the couch with their plates in their laps. They’d moved the computer to the coffee table last night so they could spend the morning looking at old pictures and watching old family videos. 

They laughed and, admittedly, cried a few times each. But it wasn’t a bad way to start the day, not at all. Certainly not as bad as Maddie’s eighth birthday had been. This, this felt like a good way to celebrate his daughter, to honor her memory. 

Mark refused to forget her. And he also refused to spend even a minute today being angry at the Titans who caused her death. She deserved better than that. The only thing that was really missing was a grave to visit. Maybe he and Andrew could set up a makeshift one, but less dreary. They could plant a plot of flowers or a tree in her name. 

The thought warmed him instead of cutting him to the quick. 

But not today. Today was for remembering the past. Tomorrow was for the future.

• • • 

Andrew sat on the edge of the deck that evening, huddled beneath a blanket, waiting for the rain promised by the weather forecast to start. He felt calm. Peaceful. It was good. He was good. 

The past year hadn’t been the best, but they had survived it, him and his dad. As today so clearly proved, it didn’t hurt as much to remember Maddie. It was nice to be able to smile and laugh instead of feel his heart break whenever he saw a picture of her. 

Everyone handled grief in their own way, Andrew knew that. And while he was sure he’d someday be able to think about his sister without feeling anything bad, he was also sure he would always miss her. 

A light roll of thunder passed overhead. The clouds broke open, and rain began to fall, slowly at first.

He wondered what Maddie would’ve been like, if she hadn’t died. Would she still love storms? Would she still insist on having a dozen different animals for pets when she grew up? What future job would she get excited about?

She would’ve liked this cabin. Andrew knew that. She’d never minded living in the city, but she’d loved camping. There was a freedom in being outside that Maddie had always taken joy in. An adventurer, through and through. 

Would she still like that stuff? Climbing trees, playing shipwreck, exploring every little river or stream—would all that still be fun to her? 

She’d be eight. It didn’t seem like that big a difference, but then, he would never know how much a year would have changed her.

He couldn’t imagine Maddie ever not liking animals, though, whether she would’ve still wanted lots of pets or not. Here, there were birds and snakes and deer and he’d even seen a bear once, and of course, the wolves. 

Maddie probably would’ve tried to befriend the wolves. She probably would’ve succeeded, too. 

Andrew smiled at the thought as the rain picked up. He imagined the look on Dad’s face if he had walked outside one day to find Maddie playing with wild wolves and laughed. 

Lightning streaked across the darkening sky as Andrew pulled the blanket tighter around himself. It was chilly out, especially with the storm, but it was so nice to listen to the rain. He wouldn’t stay out too much longer. 

He hoped the wolves were warm and dry wherever they were. Maddie probably would’ve tried to name them, even though most of them were impossible to tell apart at a distance. Andrew hadn’t bothered, with two exceptions.

There was a pair of pups who always tumbled around together, and who were daring enough to investigate him if he held still. It’d seemed appropriate to name them after himself and his sister, given how much their playful tendencies reminded him of the two of them. The slightly larger wolf was Drew, and the smaller one was Addie. He hoped he’d be able to watch them grow up. He hoped they stayed close even when they did. 

• • •

Emma gazed down at the table covered in paper. Some of the sheets bore messy handwritten notes. Others were letters or printed out emails with important information. A few held sketches and plans and diagrams. 

More importantly, sitting in the middle was her laptop, displaying one of her newer acquaintances, Alan Jonah. 

“I’m glad we could come to an agreement,” he was saying, looking as pleased as he claimed to be. “I’ll get the resources you need, Emma, for this little project of yours.” His smile grew. “Your goal is… admirable.” 

She suspected most wouldn’t agree with him. Other people would call her crazy. Mark would probably call her crazy. 

There was still a numbness in her heart, when she thought about her family, living or dead. She didn’t care what Mark would think. 

Wanting to control the Titans wasn’t crazy. It was ambitious, to be sure, and would require years of work, but above all, her intention was good. Under the right control, the Titans wouldn’t be able to rampage again. There would be no more cities trampled beneath their feet. 

Andrew would never be at risk. She wouldn’t lose him like she’d lost Maddie. 

And Jonah’s goal, their compromise, was good too. The world would be better, healthier, once the Titans spread their radiation and did a little population control. The next generation would be able to start fresh. Andrew’s generation, still so young, could make sure to do better. 

The world didn’t need to be out of balance. She would fix that, with Jonah’s help. 

Emma nodded belatedly. She couldn’t remember what time it was, or when she’d last slept or eaten. She’d do that soon, now that these beginning planning stages were agreed upon. 

She forced herself to refocus when Jonah spoke up again. “Send me a list of what you require. Your friends at Monarch will remain blissfully ignorant.” He paused, and she nodded again. “I did have one last question, Emma.” 

“And hopefully I’ll have an answer,” she said with as much of a smile as she could muster. 

“Did you have a Titan in mind for trying out the ORCA on, once it’s ready? Of course, I don’t mean to rush you. That won’t happen for years yet, naturally.” 

“Naturally,” she repeated. “I believe the safest option would be Mothra. Our studies have led us to conclude that she should hatch in a few years. As long as there aren’t any problems, the ORCA should be done by then.” 

“Wonderful,” Jonah said. “Put together a list of the Titans you’d like to release, in order. I’ll have my men begin looking into the bases’ layouts as the time approaches.” 

“Absolutely. The ones that will take precedence will be determined by some combination of their current resting locations and what sort of environmental impacts they’ve been recorded having.” 

Jonah leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, radiating satisfaction even through the video call. “Excellent. I look forward to working with you, Dr. Russell.” He glanced off to the side for a moment before looking back at her. “I understand today is the anniversary of the battle. My condolences.” 

“A year to the day,” Emma confided hoarsely. She’d been trying not to think about it, and had been failing miserably for over a week now. The date had crept up on her in full view, and yet, she’d felt like she was being stalked by a predator determined to sink its claws into her heart and its teeth into her throat. 

“If you’d rather wait to begin until you’ve recovered further—”

“No!” Emma said, louder than she’d intended. She took a deep, steadying breath before explaining. “My daughter is… she’s dead, Alan, but my son is still out there, alive. I refuse to delay the ORCA’s completion just because I can’t get over the past. The sooner we can control the Titans, the better.” 

They ended the call a few minutes later. Emma remained sitting in front of the table, staring down at the mess, and tried to forget the details of San Francisco that still plagued her.

Like every other time, she failed. 

Chapter Text

Maddie was partial to the Meadow and the Forest, both the Lesser and Greater sides, so she didn’t spend much time in the Mountains outside their nest. It wasn’t that this part of the island was completely barren, but it was definitely more rock than vegetation. The gorges and slopes and boulders and peaks—there was just so much gray. Maddie preferred a little more variation.

But Godzilla was away to recharge and it felt like she’d explored every inch of her favorite haunts, so here she was, wandering through the Mountains. 

It was a little like the Northern Isle, with its crazy rock formations that worked like a giant jungle gym, just a little less… twisty. At the very least, there was enough to keep her on her toes, so despite the dreary color palette, she would consider this adventure a success. Her coconut water bottle bumped against her hip as she jumped around.

It was just after midday that she finally reached the outermost edge of the Mountains, which descended sharply into the ocean. The wind blew her hair around her face as she hopped onto a nicely placed outcropping, giddy with the knowledge that she was being a little more daring than Godzilla usually liked. 

The height gave her the good sort of rush, and she laughed freely up at the fluffy white clouds. 

And then she looked back down at the beautifully blue ocean and spotted a ship. 

Maddie didn’t move for a second, her brain stalling as she stared at the human vessel. Then, with a little gasp, she darted backward to duck behind a ridge. After crouching there for a few seconds, feeling her heart race, she carefully peeked up over the rocks. 

It hadn’t moved much. The boat was huge and and long and absolutely covered with giant metal boxes from front to back. She stared at it. A ship meant people. There were people, humans, on there. 

Had they seen her? She was so far away, and she hadn’t been standing out in the open for long. What were the odds someone had been looking in her direction for the minute she was in view. 

It didn’t seem to be turning, so she was probably safe. But they still knew the archipelago was here and wouldn’t they tell people about it? Except—Godzilla had said only people who had been to the archipelago could lead others to it. 

Maddie dared to lean up a little higher. Could they even tell there were islands next to them? Or was it more like they wouldn’t remember passing any islands? 

What if she got their attention? Would it matter if she wasn’t directly leading them? Did intention matter? 

They’d pass by the edge of the Meadow if they kept going that way. If she ran, she would beat them, slow-moving as they were.

She half-stood without thinking, and then her own thoughts caught up with her. Maddie plopped back down, horrified. 

Had she just honestly considered trying to bring someone to the island? She pressed her hands over her mouth, and stared into space with wide eyes. It was Godzilla’s number one rule on the List, the one he was most serious about, even more so than climbing the volcano, and she’d just thought about breaking it. 

This was his home, long before it had become hers, and humans would ruin it. There’d be plastic bottles and pieces of glass littering the beach, the trees of the Forests would be cut down, the Meadow would be packed with buildings. All the different islands—the one with the wolves, the Northern Isles, the ones she hadn’t been able to explore yet, this one—would be overrun. Kelpie and Candy Corn and Noodle and Little Shadow and Andy and Mads—what would happen to them if humans came and took their home? 

She hadn’t meant it. She wouldn’t have actually done it. She hadn’t even thought about leaving in ages now. She hadn’t meant it. 

Without peeking again, Maddie stumbled to her feet and darted away from the edge, just in case. And then, as if between blinks, she found herself tripping onto the sand of the Cove. She stared at the crystal blue water, at the rich green seaweed waving beneath the surface, perfectly visible from how clear and calm the bay was, and cringed away from the thought of what humans could do to it. 

• • • 

When Godzilla returned to the archipelago not long later, Maddie was curled up in their nest, staring in silence at the paintings covering the wall. She’d added new ones over the months, like a pair of wolves and her first catch with a spear. 

She heard the distant sound of his footsteps as he left the water, and then a long pause. She knew why—normally, Maddie was waiting for him nearby, if she wasn’t already out on the beach beside the Cove’s entrance. The rare few times she wasn’t… 

He roared. 

And Maddie twisted around to holler over her shoulder, “I’m up here!” because he was a worrywart, but it wasn’t without cause. She’d definitely given him reason to worry before. 

She flopped her head down and listened to him start up the well-worn trail to their nest. When he got close enough, he said with a rumbling chuckle, I almost thought today was the day you decided to tackle the volcano. 

Maybe it would’ve been better if she had. At least then, he would only have gotten—well, she didn’t actually know how he would react if she broke one of those rules. But surely, it wouldn’t have been as bad as the disappointment she just knew was coming. 

Maddie? What’s wrong, Pup? He sounded concerned, which probably meant she hadn’t scrubbed her cheeks hard enough to get rid of the smell of her tears. 

There was rustling behind her, and after a minute, Maddie felt him settle in their nest as if it were bedtime. His hand hovered above her, and when she didn’t make any gesture of rejection, it descended and scooped her up enough to pull her back into the shadow of his chest. 

You were crying, he murmured. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him bend his head forward, curling around her tiny body. You don’t smell injured… 

She shook her head and whispered, “I almost did a bad thing.” She hesitated, but he was the most patient creature she’d ever known. He didn’t try to force her to continue. The truth spilled out anyway. “I was climbing around the Mountains and… I saw a ship.” 

Even though she couldn’t see him, and only his hand was really touching her, she felt him go stone-still. Maddie bit her lip and sternly told herself she wouldn’t cry again. 

“And I wondered. If they would see me. I thought I could prob’ly get their attention from the Meadow.” Her breath caught in her lungs and burst out as a dry, shuddery sob. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to think that! I’m sorry, G, I’m sorry!”

The fluffy flooring shifted again as he tightened the coil he’d made around her. Pup, Pup, it’s all right. I’m not mad, he crooned. He rumbled then, and the comforting light of his spines reflected off the wall. Do you hear me? I’m not mad, Pup. I thought… 

Godzilla released a great big sigh. Did you see what they were doing? 

“It was covered in big metal boxes.” 

A supply ship, then. They weren’t… 

Maddie hiccuped and wiggled around so she was facing him. “Weren’t what?” 

My presence in the earth’s waters has been noted, he said a little wryly. There are humans who have been attempting to track me for some time now. Their methods have more recently improved in accuracy. I have been attacked by large human vessels before, Pup, ones belonging to your kind’s military. I thought, if they had followed some signal to this place, if they were looking for me—I don’t know how well the archipelago could stay hidden against truly determined minds. 

“Oh.” Maddie reached out to trace the scales on his thumb, which rested right in front of her. “I didn’t try to make them see me. I promise I didn’t.” 

I believe you, he told her. And I’m truly not mad. Pup, do you know why I made that rule? 

“So I wouldn’t bring people here, ’cause they’d ruin your home?” 

Because I was afraid of what would happen to you, if humans stepped on our shores while I was away. Not all people are good. Godzilla huffed. Not that I would want to see our beaches overtaken, of course, but my greatest concern was for your safety. 

“Oh,” Maddie repeated. She smiled briefly. “I’m still sorry.”

Godzilla was quiet for a moment before he rumbled out, Then you are entirely forgiven. 

The last of her tension leaked out and relief swept in to replace it. They stayed like that for a little while, comfortable and quiet, before Godzilla nudged her out of the light doze she’d been drifting in and out of. 

I have something for you, he said softly. With her permission, he carried her down to the Cove and deposited her on the beach beside a lumpy gray thing.

Upon closer inspection, Maddie realized it was a bag, made of a thick material and shaped like a cylinder. She was pretty sure if she stood it up on one end, it would be more than half her height. After a moment of searching, she found the chunky zipper tab on one end and unzipped the bag. 

There was a mess of colors inside, and it took her a moment to realize what it all was: clothes. She pulled out a baggy green sleeveless shirt. Somehow, despite traveling through the ocean with Godzilla, it didn’t seem as if anything inside had gotten wet. 

“Wh—where the heck did—” Maddie dropped the shirt and pulled out something else, this time, a pair of shorts clearly intended for an adult. “G! What’d you do? How did you—” She cut herself off to make little confused noises as she rifled through the remaining garments. 

You need new clothes, he said, completely avoiding the subject.

She sat back on her heels and looked down at her own shirt. After that first repair job, several others had taken place, resulting in a mess of the original fabric, green vines, and in the case of a particularly nasty hole, a haphazardly attached patch of fur. This wasn’t even taking into account that it only barely fit without hurting anymore. 

She turned to Godzilla, who had also been looking at the clothes she’d very much outgrown, and they shared a silent moment of “yeah, it’s reached the end of its life.” 

Pushing the edges open wider, Maddie examined the rest of the bag’s contents. It was by far the most random assortment of clothes she’d ever seen, containing articles clearly meant for both adults and kids, and with no rhyme or reason regarding the sizes or styles. 

“This’ll be interesting, I guess,” she said. She picked up the green shirt. It was too big for her, but not by too much. Maddie pulled her own off, hearing something rip in the process, and exchanged it for the sleeveless one. 

If nothing else, it was comfy. And she hadn’t realized how tight her old one had really been getting until now, when she had room to spare. The tightness on her shoulders was gone, not least because this shirt didn’t have sleeves at all. 

She smiled. “Thanks, G!” 

He chuckled. I hope at least some of those things fit you. 

Maddie held up a t-shirt. “Don’t worry, I’ll grow into them. But seriously, where did you get these?”

Don’t ask, he grumbled, though not without a tinge of humor, and refused to say another word on the subject. 

Chapter Text

“Tell me about the other Titans?” Maddie asked. 

Godzilla opened his eyes and shifted his head to look over at her. The other Titans, he repeated. It’d been a while since he’d last thought of them beyond in passing. Longer still since he’d seen any of his kindred. 

Maddie, who was sitting in the sand beside him, took another piece of long grass from the pile at her side and added it to the weaving in her lap. “Yeah. My parents had mentioned some of them before—that’s how I knew your name—but it’s really different, right? How a scientist would describe them, from how a friend would.” 

She paused in her task to look up at him, knowing full well he had significant trouble refusing her pleading eyes. She delivered the killing blow: “I’ve told you about my family. Can’t I hear about yours?” 

He grumbled for show and turned back to stare out over the Cove. His Pup didn’t bother to say anything else, radiating a gentle sort of smugness at knowing she’d gotten through to him. Godzilla took a moment to consider what he would say. 

There used to be more of us, he finally began with. And we all roamed the earth as we pleased. Human civilizations were neither as large nor widespread as they are today. I spent my youth only vaguely aware they existed at all. 

“The other Titans,” Maddie said, hesitantly, “they’re not all… dead, are they?” 

No, no. Many of my old friends are sleeping now, as they have been for quite some time. Years and years. For many of us, we are the last of our specific kind. There is no one else who shares my blood, and no one ever will. If I’m remembering correctly, Scylla is not the last of hers. She is a troublemaker and a trickster. He chuckled, thinking on some of their past interactions. Vicious when she needed to be. You’d get along. 

“I hope I get to meet her someday.” 

Godzilla shuddered dramatically, and was pleased when Pup laughed. 

“Is she as big as you?” 

No, which is a blessing. She gets into enough trouble as it is. 

“Is anyone as big as you?”

I am hard to match in height, though Methuselah and Behemoth are both formidable. They walk on four legs and always gave me a challenge in our play fights. Scylla is less sturdy. She has many legs, all of which are thin. 

“Cool.” 

He sighed. Of course you would think she’s cool. 

“You’re still my favorite, G. There’d be no competition, even if I did know all the other Titans.” 

Though it warmed his heart, he had to add, You might change your mind if you ever meet Mothra. 

“Mothra… sounds familiar.” Maddie wiggled the piece of grass in her hand. “I think I might’ve heard my mom say that name before.” She grinned up at him. “You think Mothra could beat you as my favorite Titan?” 

I believe she would stand a far better chance at doing so than any other. She’s beautiful, and good. She has always been a protector of humanity. I have great respect for her. 

Pup’s grin softened. “Is she your best friend?” 

She is my Queen. Godzilla sighed. I miss her terribly. Even when she was angry with me, I knew I could count on her in all things. 

“Aww. You love her a lot, huh?” 

He grumbled wordlessly and moved his head away. 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, G! I think it’s cute!” Maddie called. “Does she love you as much as you love her?” 

You’re being ridiculous. 

“I’m gonna take that as a yes. Godzilla and Mothra, sittin’ in a tree. K-i-s-s-i-n-g.” 

Maddie. 

“First comes love, then comes—hey, do Titans ever get married? Are you already married? Do you have special bonding ceremonies or something?” 

You’ll keep bothering me about this if I don’t answer, won’t you? 

“That’s part of having a kid, G.” 

He swung back around to find his Pup grinning teasingly at him. No, he finally said. Mothra and I are not married. I… will admit to being unfamiliar with any formal bonding rites, though that doesn’t mean they don’t exist. She is my Queen because I trust her and consider her a dear friend. 

Maddie looked like she wanted to ask more, but mercifully, she changed the topic as she returned to her project. “So are those all your friends?” 

Not all, Godzilla said. Not even close to all, but those were most of the ones he knew were still alive. So many others—their fates were unknown to him. There is also Rodan. He is… 

He must’ve spent too long trying to think of a good way to describe him, because Maddie made a face. “Uh oh. Not so much a friend?” 

He snorted. I have my enemies, but no, Rodan isn’t one of them. He is if Scylla could fly and was a little less intentional about causing trouble. He— 

“Wait, wait, you can’t just mention having enemies and then move on! What are they like?” 

One is an ape who has gotten on my nerves from the moment I met him. Kong. The only good thing he’s ever done is keep to his own island. But as much as we dislike each other, we don’t have reason to kill each other. Fight brutally, yes, but we both have our purposes. I leave him alone, he leaves me alone. 

Not all my enemies are like that, though. There was one species who functioned as parasites. The two I knew of are dead, but I would not be surprised if more of them still lived. Godzilla hesitated to continue, but ultimately pushed on. These were the ones I fought in your human city. 

Maddie lifted her head but didn’t look at him. “Oh,” she said. “I only barely saw one. They were loud. And sharp looking.” 

Godzilla shifted his shoulder where he knew a scar from the male parasite marred his scales. Sharp. Yes. 

He watched his Pup fidget. “Do you know what they were doing there? In San Francisco?” 

It was a male and a female, seeking to lay eggs. Your city… just happened to be where they went to do so. They sought a source of radiation. There were members of the human military, in their ships, and they had one. 

Maddie didn’t respond, though he could see in her posture and the way she trembled lightly that her thoughts were unpleasant. With a bit of contortion, he shifted around enough so she could lean back against him if she wished. Instead, she set her weaving aside and curled up into his neck. 

“But all those people,” she whispered. “Couldn’t they have picked somewhere else to have their babies?” 

They didn’t care, Godzilla explained gently. Some Titans care more about humans than others. Those parasites… the death and destruction of another species meant nothing to them. That’s why I was there, Pup, to try and stop them. 

“You did stop them.” 

Yes, but not soon enough. For that, I am sorry, Pup. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Maddie spoke up, changing the subject once more. “So where are all your friends now?” 

The ones who are left, who I’ve told you about, are sleeping. Many for different reasons, but other than Kong, who doesn’t count anyway, I am the only one awake right now. He continued absently, a little lost in thought, I did enter hibernation myself, when I realized there was no one left. But I was woken—by humans, no less—some time ago. And I have been alone since. 

“That’s awful, G. It sounds so lonely.” 

It was. I still miss my kindred, and I look forward to when they wake back up themselves, but I am not so lonely anymore. 

Maddie pulled back, and he moved so he could see her. “Is that why you brought me with you when you left San Francisco?” she asked. “I never thought to ask.” 

It’s one of the reasons. I truly wasn’t sure what else to do with you, though, especially when it seemed… you were alone. Godzilla suddenly rumbled with laughter. You fell asleep in my hand almost as soon as I picked you up, Maddie. I’ve never had a human react to me like that before. 

“I remember waking up, but I didn’t realize…” She giggled, the scent of sadness leaving her somewhat. “That means you were just standing there with a little kid you didn’t even know sleeping on you! And you took me home with you like I was a stray cat or something!” She laughed harder. 

It used to hurt more, thinking of his lost kindred, but now, as his Pup’s laughter echoed across the Cove, he found the empty, aching hole in his heart to be so much more healed than he ever imagined possible. And just as he’d told Maddie before, it helped to speak of the memories they didn’t wish to forget. 

His anticipation of their eventual return was less a desperation to not be alone anymore, and more an excitement to be reunited at long last. Feeling light and content, he resolved to spend the rest of the day telling Pup stories about the other Titans and himself, if she was willing to listen. 

Given the happy gleam in her eyes, Godzilla figured she was.

Chapter Text

Godzilla didn’t set many rules for her, and most of them were easy enough to follow. It helped when they were reasonable and actually in line with what Maddie naturally would or wouldn’t do. Like trying to climb the Cliffs without supervision. She enjoyed adventures, not a broken neck—and she could admit she had trouble around the mossy sections. 

But ever since he saw a shark unusually close to the Cove’s entrance, he’d forbidden her from swimming any farther than the Cove’s inner reef. And that had happened three weeks ago. 

He’d sworn he’d seen the shark more than once, but she thought he was just trying to scare her into obeying. Godzilla’d gone hunting for it almost every day since first spotting it, but his searches had so far turned up empty. 

Her problem with the rule was that the ocean waves that hit the southern beaches were the best to jump around in, and those were the exact beaches currently off limits. 

They’d argued about it on and off for hours after the first week. There’d been no evidence of it hanging around—when sharks lingered near the archipelago, the birds and sea turtles would avoid going in the water beyond the Cove—and even if it had stuck around for a while, there was no way it was still there after how much time Godzilla had spent patrolling the islands since. 

“You scared it off!” she’d insisted. “There’s no way it’s still out there!” 

It might be waiting out of sight. It knows there’s potential food here. And a shark of that size is more ancient than those that humans deal with. This kind will not hesitate to attack you.

“Then what if you come with me? 

You complain about how my presence in the shallows affects the waves, and I would not be comfortable staying any farther away. If I remain on land, I might not be fast enough should something happen. He’d scowled mightily at admitting what he perceived to be a weakness. No, until I have either killed it or challenged it, you will not swim anywhere outside the Cove. 

Maddie had turned away with a huff, recognizing his ‘my word is law and I have spoken’ voice. 

Maddie. You know I do this for your safety. Playing in the waves is not worth your life. 

And she couldn’t argue that, not then or now. She knew Godzilla’s greatest fear was failing to protect her, or seeing her be hurt—or worse. But she’d never touch the greater ocean again at this rate. There were birds riding the waves, and Kelpie and his family had been coming and going without fear. No carcasses with chunks ripped out of them had been found. 

Three weeks. There was only so much patience a kid her age could have. And so there she sat at the water’s edge, exactly where she knew she shouldn’t be, knowing Godzilla was taking a nice nap at the moment. She bit at her thumbnail, her thoughts divided. 

Godzilla did usually know best, and it felt a little like a betrayal to consider going against him like this. She’d toed the line of disobedience before—her jokes about climbing the volcano were still going strong, and there was the whole ship thing a little while back, not to mention an incident involving the Cliffs and Candy Corn—but this would be willfully disregarding one of his very clear rules. There’d be no excuses this time, if she got caught, and unlike other close calls, there’d be no relief on his part to distract him from punishing her. 

Admittedly, that was what was really tripping her up. She’d been bratty and uncooperative before, she could admit that, but Godzilla had yet to have a reason to dish out any real punishment. Being soaked in his spit sucked, but it was playful. And as frustrating as it was when he curled around her to keep her from going anywhere, it was hardly a true punishment. So what would he do if she really pushed his buttons? 

As much as it was holding her back, the same question egged her on. She wanted to push. She wanted to test the boundaries he set, see what his reaction would be like if she blatantly crossed them. It was something she’d been thinking about ever since she realized, back when she’d seen the boat, that she had no idea how he would react to her doing a bad thing.

Maddie sighed and stared out at the horizon. The waves crashing at her feet were perfect, exactly her favorite type to play in. It took all the self-control she had to resist entering the water. 

She tried to remember how her parents had punished her, but could only draw a blank. Was she just forgetting more, after nearly two full years on the archipelago, or had they never done anything serious enough to stick? 

“Ugh,” she moaned, pulling her knees up to her chest for the sole purpose of dropping her forehead against them. Stay or play? Obey or rebel? 

The waves tempted her. The thrill of disobeying tempted her. The idea of having a secret to keep tempted her. 

But… it wouldn’t be worth it to make Godzilla worry. Which he would. He might even worry as much as he’d be angry, if he found out. He’d think about all the what ifs, and as much as she wanted to push, making him have nightmares about her getting eaten by a shark wasn’t the way to do it. 

She sighed and stood up, brushing the sand off her legs. “I’ll go wander Dead Valley tomorrow, see how he reacts to that.” 

Being forbidden from exploring Dead Valley was the number two rule on the List. She’d been wanting to see if wearing a mask of some sort would help. The prospect of seeing Andrew again, even if he was some dream-hallucination meant to lull her into being eaten or whatever, had been lingering in her head for a while. Breaking this rule would be more than enough, probably, to test even his incredible patience. 

Maddie turned around to go find something else to do and immediately found herself looking into Godzilla’s eyes. He was laying over the top of the ridge, where the dunes became grassy hills beside the Forest. The way he was positioned left him facing her, and she’d bet his tail was tapping against some trees on the other side. How she hadn’t heard him get so close was a mystery. 

But there was no way he hadn’t been there for a while, watching her. He’d probably even heard her, too.

She gulped. 

Godzilla huffed a wordless breath and shifted his head in the way she’d always known to be an invitation. 

Fully expecting a lecture, but knowing she hadn’t actually done anything wrong, Maddie marched up the beach and tucked herself against the scales of his neck, near his jaw. His head moved again, this time to curve closer to her, incidentally also blocking most of her view of the ocean. 

“I didn’t go in the water,” she grumbled. 

But you thought about it. 

“Thinking’s not against the rules!” 

No, it’s not. He sighed. Tell me why you didn’t disobey me. 

Maddie picked at the edge of her pants. “Am I in trouble?”

No, Pup. 

“Are you angry?” 

Godzilla rumble-laughed, which felt awesome from where she was leaning against him. I promise, Maddie, I am not angry with you. Please, tell me what made you get up to walk away. 

The temptation to rebel, or at least be contrary, was still strong. “How do you know I wasn’t just gonna get a running start?” she asked, challengingly. 

You were startled to realize I was here, but not guilty. I’m not going to let this go, Pup. It’ll be easier on both of us if you answer. 

She picked up a handful of sand and let it run through her fingers. He waited patiently, uncaring if she was stalling or merely trying to think of how to word her response. 

“I didn’t wanna make you worry,” Maddie finally said. “If you found out, you’d go and imagine all the bad things that could’ve happened.” 

He purred deep in his throat, sending vibrations all through her. She smiled and reached out to trail her fingers over his skin, understanding the sound for the approval it was.

I appreciate that, he said. But other than my tendency to worry, did nothing else deter you? 

“Dunno why you’re asking, you probably heard me anyway.” 

His jaw shifted in front of her, and she knew he was smiling in his own, reptilian way. Yes, he admitted, I did. Me potentially being angry had nothing to do with your decision. In fact, it sounds like you want to provoke me. 

Maddie shrugged. Would he understand if she tried to explain it? She wasn’t even sure she could, not in a way that made sense. 

Maddie. 

“I wanted to push,” she whispered. It sounded silly out loud. “I wanted to see what would happen if you got angry at me. If you…” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. There was no other way to say it. “If you had to punish me. I dunno, it’s stupid.” 

It’s not stupid. It’s natural to wonder what consequences you might have to one day face. A long time ago, some of the other Titans used to act out deliberately, just to see how I would handle it. And I certainly don’t blame you for wanting to know. In fact, it’s on me that we haven’t had this discussion before. 

“Oh.” Maddie thought about this for a moment, feeling better with the knowledge that ancient Titans had had the urge to test Godzilla’s limits too. “So, what would you do?” 

Mm. What do you think would be a good punishment if you ever deliberately break one of my rules? 

Maddie wanted to say she didn’t know and that’s why she’d considered breaking one in the first place, but she knew he was asking for a reason. “I can’t think of anything else besides being grounded. I don’t really have anything you could take away, like TV or something, and I don’t think you would be willing to make me skip a meal. So all that’s left is keeping me from doing anything fun.” 

He nodded against the sand. Several months ago, I discovered a small area in the caves, plenty big enough for you but not for any Titan. I wouldn’t want to leave you somewhere potentially dangerous, so this would be as close as I could get to confining you to your room. It also cannot be left without assistance. 

“So you wouldn’t have to worry about me sneaking off,” she concluded. “Is that really it? Grounding me?” 

Well, before grounding you, I would express my disappointment. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how much it eats you up inside when you think you’ve let me down, or abused my trust. 

Maddie groaned loud and long, letting her arms flop down against her sides. “And then I’d be all alone with my thoughts and nothing to distract me from feeling guilty! Yeah, that works as a pretty good punishment, G.” 

Godzilla rumbled comfortingly. I hope, he said, I never have the need to enforce it. 

“And that’s up to me, yeah, yeah, I know.” 

Pup, have any of my rules really been so hard for you to follow? 

Doodling in the sand, Maddie shook her head, knowing he would feel it. 

Then, for the most part, you have nothing to worry about. 

And he was right. Other than the rule that had started all this, Maddie really hadn’t had any trouble doing as he asked. He was by no means an unreasonable Titan. Maybe now would be a good time to bring the whole shark thing up again, while he was in a pleasant mood. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained—hadn’t she heard some human adult say that before? 

“So… how much longer do you think the beach will be off limits?” 

Godzilla was quiet for a little while before he sighed and said, I must apologize, Pup. I haven’t been completely honest with you on this matter. In fact, I admit, you were correct in your recent assessment of there being no immediate danger. There was pride there, in his voice. I found and killed the shark six days ago. 

Maddie shot to her feet. “What! Why didn’t you say anything?” 

Godzilla lifted his head off the ground to face her. I wanted to—and there’s no nice way to say it—test you. See what you would do when your observations told you the water was safe while I said otherwise, see what choice you would make.

She crossed her arms over her chest and spun around, turning her back on him. “You lied to me! You tricked me!” 

Can you forgive this old Titan? he asked, nuzzling her with the end of his snout. 

Maddie thought about making him work for it, but it was hard to stay angry when she’d been planning to test him in her own way. Huffing in the way she’d learned from him, she did an about-face and leaned against him. “I guess I could,” she teased, hugging him as much as her tiny self could. “But only if you let me play in the waves now!” 

He laughed the way he’d learned from her, but she’d been getting better at keeping steady against the force of such an exhalation, so she didn’t so much as sway backwards. Go, Pup, he told her, immeasurably fond. Have fun. 

With a last pat to his snout, Maddie turned away from Godzilla and ran toward the water, throwing a, “Thanks, G!” over her shoulder. 

• • •

Instead of leaving, Godzilla resettled himself over the ridge, ready to watch his Pup move through the water like she was really a pup of his—born to love the ocean. He began making plans to take her to the Northern Isle tomorrow, as a special treat. She loved climbing the rock formations, and he knew she wished it was close enough for them to visit more often. 

He hadn’t wanted to test her, but the fact was, he didn’t know what to expect as she grew. Godzilla wouldn’t change his decision to take her for all the world, but raising a human was new territory—it always would be, it felt like. Just as he started to feel as if he had the hang of it, new problems would arise and new aspects would need to be considered. 

Introducing a rule she was immediately opposed to had reminded him that for all their little disagreements in the past, for all the trouble she’d gotten into, none of it had ever been willful disobedience of something he’d explicitly made clear. 

The thought had scared him, far more than he ever would’ve imagined. Maddie, part and parcel with growing up, wouldn’t always trust in him as an ultimate authority figure—if she ever had. Her small acts of rebellion made it clear she wasn’t one to be entirely intimidated into obedience—and he was proud of her for that. He never wanted to scare her into compliance. But the fact remained: his original rules had never tempted her to break his trust. 

Well. Besides the volcano.

Keeping the shark’s demise from her hadn’t been part of some scheme he’d cooked up. The thought had only occurred to him after he’d finished devouring the creature. It seemed like as good a chance as any to find out how her personal wishes weighed against his commands.

It had gone far better than he’d dared hope, in terms of the test itself, and her reaction to finding out about it. 

Godzilla watched his Pup surface after diving into a large wave. She laughed as she shook her head, sending her hair—it had gotten quite a bit longer since he’d first brought her to the archipelago—flying around her. Maddie waved when she saw he was watching, and he raised his head to snort back. 

He’d worry about his Pup growing up some other time. Godzilla heaved himself off the sand and went to join her in the water, to her shrieking delight. She did so love playing with him. 

Chapter Text

There was a temple rising up out of the fog. Maddie leaned up on her knees to see it better from her position on Godzilla’s head. 

I had forgotten this was here until I came across it a few weeks ago, Godzilla told her as they approached the island it sat on. It’s a remnant of a very different time. 

“It’s so big.” 

You’ll understand why once you go inside. He swam up to the island’s edge, which had long ago been reinforced by a now-crumbling stone wall. Maddie hopped over the gap onto the overgrown grassy part. Step carefully, Pup. There are likely loose stones everywhere. 

“I’ll be careful,” Maddie promised. “What about you?” 

There was a mischievous tone in his voice when he responded, Don’t worry about me. Head for the center of the temple. 

Maddie stuck her tongue out at him. “Fine, don’t tell me. Can I explore while I go?” she asked as she started backing away. 

I’m not sure how much there is to see, but you’re more than welcome to look around. If there are stairs, however, you might want to avoid them. 

A quick glance over her shoulder at the ruins had her agreeing easily. While the building didn’t look like it could collapse at any moment, there was a certain air of decay about it. She wouldn’t go slamming around inside, at any rate. 

Weeds and vines and moss had overtaken a lot of the stone, both on the path beneath her feet and the pillars and walls she came upon at the top of the slight slope leading to the massive arched entrance. Maddie paused on the threshold to check if Godzilla was still behind her. 

He lifted his head from the water a little, snorted at her, and sank entirely out of sight. 

Knowing he wouldn’t go far, Maddie stepped into the temple with a little smile. The fog followed her in, suffusing the corridor and beyond.

It was so quiet here. Their island—really, almost every island in the archipelago—was teeming with animals. Everywhere she went, there were birds chirping or little critters squeaking or wolves howling. Rustling bushes, splashing water, crinkling leaves, burbling springs. The archipelago was so alive. 

This place… it had died a long time ago. 

She pressed her hand lightly to one of the stone walls. It was rough and dirty, and little pebbles fell to the floor in a shower of grit when she swept her palm across the surface. 

The temple was shot through with creeping plants, which helped it feel not quite so desolate. Watching her step, Maddie followed the hall to another doorway, this one into a large room. There was a huge stone slab in the middle, surrounded by rocks carved to serve as seats. A hole in the ceiling let in a meager amount of sunlight from the overcast sky. 

But the walls—the walls were what really stole her attention. 

They were covered in paintings. Some were of Titans she recognized from Godzilla’s descriptions. There were tiny people drawn around their feet in careful patterns, some seemingly armed with spears and others with drums. 

Most of the art was of Godzilla, though. He’d told her about the place where he recharged his star-fire, with its cascading magma and sunken statues and grand staircase. There were wall murals there too, he’d said. 

This temple must have been made for him, she realized. She wondered if the other had been as well. 

She slowly circled the room, taking in as much of the artwork as she could. As simple as it was, the sprawling mural was beautiful. Some of the paint was scratched and flaking away, but nothing was damaged enough to be ruined. 

There was a particularly large depiction of Godzilla from the side, with his head thrown back and light exploding from his mouth and spines. In the middle of his body, there was an unpainted space in the shape of a handprint, showing the light gray stone beneath. Maddie reached up and set her hand there. It was bigger than her own, and she wondered how long it’d been since anyone had fit their palm and fingers into it like a key into a lock. 

She tried to keep the image in her head as she reluctantly moved on, so she could replicate it on the wall in their nest. 

As she passed into another hallway, her foot caught on something half-covered in vines. Crouching to free it, Maddie eventually pulled free what she thought, at first, was a simple pole. But then she brushed the last bits of clinging leaves off and discovered it was a very nice spear with a carved stone tip. 

“Wow,” she said, holding it close. Despite the years it’d undoubtably been lying there, the little symbols engraved in the sturdy wooden shaft were crisp and clear. The stone tip still seemed secured where it was partially embedded in the end. And it was plenty sharp. She tested it on some of the vines on the wall, and it cut through them without struggle. 

It was way better than the sharpened stick she still used at home. So long as Godzilla didn’t have any objections, that’d be changing soon. 

She took it with her as she explored, though she came to a halt at an arch in the middle of the corridor. 

This had to be the center of the temple. The room was huge, both long and tall, and right in the middle, taking up most of the floor, was a massive pool. Directly above it was a circular skylight, with long strands of flowering vines dripping over the edge. A sort of inner corridor had been formed within the room by lines of intricately detailed columns built halfway between the pool and the wall.

Maddie stepped through the gap between two of the columns. Like the walls in the first room she’d been in, they were covered in paintings from the bottom to the very top. Even the ceiling was a sprawling mural. 

She left the spear propped up against one of the columns and ventured closer to the pool. The water was dark enough that she couldn’t see the bottom, though around the edge was a little shelf about a foot below the rippling surface, like the way hot tubs had a built-in bench seat. There was only one thing in the ancient room that seemed out of place, and that was a medium-sized chest next to the pool. 

Just as she started to go investigate, the water in the pool shifted in the corner of her eye. Maddie startled backwards and nearly yelped, but the sight of Godzilla rising up in the middle of the room silenced her. 

He chuckled at the expression of shock no doubt on her face as he sank back down a little, so his head was closer to the floor. 

“Wait—how did you—” 

There’s a tunnel carved through the island, allowing me to come and go as I please. He certainly looked pleased about it. The temple builders went to great lengths to make me feel welcome. 

“You mean they dug a tunnel big enough for you by hand? Wow.” 

I put it to good use once they completed it, he said. Many of us were revered as gods ages ago. The humans of the world were very different from how they are now. 

“No kidding.” Maddie slowly spun around, taking in the massive room again. The pool was probably big enough for Godzilla to fit the tops of his shoulders through, and with all the paintings, it wasn’t hard to imagine him doing just that. “Did you come here often?” 

For me, yes. For them? I’m not sure. I measured time differently than I do now. Godzilla huffed. And speaking of time, you are officially a year older. 

Maddie fiddled with her shark tooth necklace, with its recent ninth addition. “Almost double-digits, G, and then it won’t be long before I’m a teenager,” she teased him.

Having been told some of the horror stories Maddie herself had heard about the dreadful teenage years, he groaned dramatically. Don’t remind me, he begged her. You’re growing up too fast. 

“That’s what all the parents say,” she told him as she went over to the chest. “Is this for me?” 

Yes, he said, and continued as she started to undo the latches. I noticed you’ve been writing in the sand more, so… 

“Books!” Maddie cried, lifting one up. “You got me a whole bunch of books! G!” 

You like them? 

“Yes! I’ve missed reading!” She gasped and hugged the book. “I can read to you! I mean, if you want.” 

I’d like that, Pup. Happy birthday. 

She replaced the hardcover and closed the chest before she could spoil the surprise of what all the other titles were. She wanted to savor the not-knowing for as long as possible. Getting to her feet, she splashed down onto the shallow shelf and hugged Godzilla’s snout. 

“Thanks, G. It’s an awesome present.” 

I’m glad you like it. Did you want to explore more of the temple before we leave? 

“Nah,” she said. “As cool as this place is, I think I’m ready to go home. It’s just so quiet here. But—oh! I almost forgot—look what I found!” Maddie popped over across the room to grab the spear and lift it above her head. “Can I keep it?” 

Godzilla got that look on his face that he had whenever she got close to a sharp object. If you promise to be careful with it, yes, he said, only a touch reluctantly.

“Sweet! Thanks, G!” She lightly ran the pad of her index finger over the sharp edge, considering. Her hair was getting annoyingly long, and this was the sharpest thing she’d held since coming to the island. She held her tongue, though. Godzilla might have a heart attack or something if she mentioned wanting to use it so close to her own head. 

She returned to the chest to secure it for travel, but paused halfway there. Godzilla leaned forward to nudge her. You okay, Pup? he asked.

“Yeah. Just. Before we go,” she said a tiny bit hesitantly as she looked around at all the paintings. “Do you… do you think it’d be okay if I added a little bit to the murals?” 

Godzilla offered her his version of a smile. I think it’d be more than okay. The people who painted them, I think they’d be honored. He nuzzled against her. I’d be honored. 

She didn’t have as many color options as she would’ve back home, but Maddie was determined to make it work regardless. Godzilla waited patiently for her to finish, and when she was done, she stood back with her hands on her hips and nodded in satisfaction. 

• • • 

In the vastness of the oceans, there is a quiet island. On this quiet island is a crumbling temple. In this crumbling temple, there are old and faded murals. And among these old and faded murals is a new painting, done in grays and blacks and greens, and made to mimic the art style of its predecessors. 

It shows two figures. One is the god of the temple, curled up in a circle with his tail touching his snout. The other is a child, positioned within the god’s protective wall. They are both at peace. 

Unlike the other paintings in the temple, this one is signed. Below it, in careful letters, the stone wall reads Maddie, age 9 and beside it is a curious scale pattern that appears to be stamped, not drawn. 

(Incidentally, a small patch on the corner of Godzilla’s jaw remains stained black until the next morning, when Maddie helps him wash it off.) 

Chapter Text

Godzilla watched Maddie examine the soles of her feet. Are they the same? he asked. 

“Yep.” She held her palm next to her toes. “Definitely the same. I thought they were just calluses. And then…” She laughed and nodded at the little pile of dried skin beside her. 

He chuckled. You’d pick your scabs off if the hot springs didn’t heal them so well. 

Maddie stuck her tongue out at him. “Yeah, me and every other human on the planet. I just wasn’t expecting to find anything other than skin under the flaky bits.” She held out the palm of her hand so he could see it better. 

The scales had been a surprise to them both. They were tiny compared to his own, and more pebbly in appearance. The color, a stone-gray, was the same between the two of them. Hers, however, appeared to sparkle slightly, and it took Godzilla a moment to realize there were tiny flecks of a golden color present in his Pup’s scales. 

He hummed, pleased. They will likely continue to develop, now that they’re exposed. The, ah, shedding, is usually caused by their initial regrowth. Or growth, in your case.

“They’re wherever I had calluses,” she muttered. Looking up, she asked, “Do you think it’ll stay that way?” 

Perhaps. Or maybe those areas were merely considered a priority. As far as your body was concerned, you were aggravating those areas from running on sharp stones and climbing trees and throwing spears. Now that the perceived ‘injury’ has been taken care of… Godzilla shrugged as much as he could, laying on his belly. 

Maddie flopped back into the sand and turned her head towards the Cove. He followed her gaze, and they watched in silence as Kelpie slowly swam around with his shell above the surface, so his passengers didn’t get wet. Candy Corn was a frequent traveler on the Kelpie Express, as Maddie called it, but the small furry creature was relatively new to the experience. Noodle was her name, if he was recalling that introduction correctly. 

His Pup was still smiling when she rolled her head around to face him. “But yeah, we can add scales to the list now. So that’s sharp teeth, weird hearing—” 

The impressive amount of time you can hold your breath underwater. 

“—darn, I always forget that one—what about the freckles?” 

He eyed the tiny dots of color spreading across her cheeks, nose, and shoulders, which she obligingly pulled the loose collar of her too-large shirt aside to reveal. Some are still brown, he reported. But I believe more of them are blue than the last time we checked. 

“Figures. So, those, and now the scales, and the…” She flapped a hand at him. “The sometimes-being-able-to-tell-where-you-are thing.” 

Yes, he said. That thing. 

“Shut up, I don’t know what else to call it.” 

I find it completely ridiculous and not a little unfair that it doesn’t work both ways. If one of us should be able to have some inexplicable knowledge of the other’s location at any given time, why would it not be the parental figure? 

Maddie laughed. “Tough luck, G.” 

The day they had figured that one out, only shortly after Maddie’s ninth birthday, had been an amusing one, indeed. He’d just returned from a quick swim to one of the other islands, having checked on whether a recent storm had done much damage. Maddie had greeted him and asked how Bubble Island, that being the name she’d given it, was doing. 

Better than expected, he’d answered, only to realize he hadn’t made any mention of going to Bubble Island, either just then or before he’d left. Naturally, he’d asked how she’d known, and she—suddenly looking quite startled herself—had haltingly said she’d just known. 

They’d attempted to test it, see if it was a fluke or merely an excellent guess, but the more Maddie had tried to do whatever it was she’d done before, the less it seemed willing to work. What followed was a week or so of her suffering from minor headaches. 

They’d thought at first that it was a consequence of her straining herself. 

The headaches had stopped, he’d gone to his underwater temple to recharge, and Maddie had excitedly met him at the Cove’s entrance upon his return with the news that she’d felt him getting closer. 

After much trial and error—and many games of hide and seek—they’d figured out the two main rules regarding her “sometimes-being-able-to-tell-where-you-are thing.” One: it worked best when she wasn’t intentionally trying to use it, whatever it may have actually been. Two: if he went too far, it didn’t work. The maximum distance she could feel him from, however, appeared to be slowly growing over time. It was as peculiar as the slowly changing freckles, though it was admittedly much more useful. 

Maddie continued, “If I could make it so you could pinpoint my location or whatever, I totally—well, no, I wouldn’t do that.” She grinned mischievously. “If you could always tell where I am, my entire plan for climbing the volcano would fall apart!” 

Godzilla groaned and half-rolled over onto his side. Not the volcano, Pup. Anything but the volcano. 

“Soon,” she threatened him with a smile. “It’s the only place on this entire island I haven’t been. I’ve explored the Greater and Lesser Forests, I’ve wandered every inch of the Meadow, I’ve climbed the Cliffs, I’ve reached the bottom of the Cove, and I’ve crossed the entire Mountain. I’ve even set foot in Dead Valley. Twice!” 

Don’t remind me, he grumbled. The second time was… best forgotten about, in all honesty. 

“Yeah…” Maddie said absently, staring up into the sky. Probably remembering that day just as he was. She visibly snapped out of it. “Anyway! The volcano’s the last thing on my list, G. Unless… I’ve already gone up it while you were away.” 

The thought had occurred to him, but hearing it voiced allowed made it ten times as bad. Please tell me you haven’t. 

Maddie merely smiled sweetly and popped to her feet. She went over to her little camp area beside the main cave entrance to the hot springs and picked up the stone-tipped spear she’d found at the temple on her birthday a few months ago. 

Twisting her hands around it as she walked back over to him, she said, “Huh. Feels a little different with the scales.” She huffed a laugh. “I think I was expecting them to be slippery or something.” 

Godzilla watched her heft the spear and stab at the sand. He’d never like seeing a weapon in his Pup’s hands, but she’d proven herself to be responsible with it. Her aim and speed had improved greatly since her first lesson. She could hunt reliably well alongside the wolves at this point. 

To his confusion, Maddie sat back down on the beach with the spear in her lap. 

“I don’t have any other ideas on how to do this,” she said, “and it’s driving me crazy.” 

Before he could ask what she meant, she pulled her hair in front of her shoulders, reaching back to, from the looks of it, separate it somewhat equally. Realizing what the spear was for, he closed his eyes with a growl and thumped his tail. 

Obviously knowing exactly what he was thinking about, Maddie said, “I promise I’ll be careful, G. You’re gonna have to open your eyes though, ’cause I don’t have a mirror and I need someone to tell me if I’m way off. And I don’t think Candy Corn or Noodle will be any help.” 

He reluctantly opened his eyes to find Maddie trying not to laugh at him. One of the sections was held taut in her hand, and though the spear wasn’t yet near her head, she was clearly ready to lift it. 

Slowly, he begged her. And away from your neck, Pup, or so help me— 

“I’m not stupid,” she said, and then promptly gave him a heart attack by raising the spear’s deadly stone tip to the edge of her jaw. She clearly took good care of her weapon, and had learned how to sharpen it since acquiring it, because it didn’t seem to take much effort for her to slice through the handful of hair. 

It sprang free as the excess length fell away, leaving the new ends to settle, in its slightly wavy way, around her neck. 

“Wow,” Maddie said, looking at the part she’d cut off. “That’s a lot longer than I thought.” She set it and the spear on her lap. Pulling some of the freshly cut strands straight, she looked up at him. “Tell me when it looks like it’ll be the same length.” With her free hand, she slowly moved her fist down the long side, keeping it taut. 

There, he said. Just above your fingers. 

Without questioning him, she flipped the spear around and made the second cut. Putting down the other handful with the first, she vigorously shook her head. 

Does it feel better? Godzilla asked, relieved when she tossed the spear aside to try and measure the two sides against each other. 

“So much better! It was getting really annoying.” She shrugged. “Straight enough, I think. Not like it really matters, though. What do you think?” 

He turned his head toward her and huffed, blowing her hair back and making her laugh. I think it suits you very well, Pup. Excellent work. And it looks fluffier now. 

“It kinda is, isn’t it? I guess since it’s lighter…” She shook her head again, obviously enjoying the shorter length. “I think this is the shortest I’ve had it in a really long time.” 

She carefully scooped up the bundle in her lap and contemplated it. It was decently long, considering her hair had been about halfway down her upper arms. Waving it around as she went, Maddie took her spear back to her camp, where she rummaged around some of her supplies. 

He watched her pull a thin strand of vine out and bite it shorter so she could wrap it around the middle of the loose hair. She left it with her other things. 

“I’ll decide what to do with it later,” she told him. “It doesn’t sound right to bury it or something. I guess I could burn it…” 

There’s no rush, Godzilla reassured her. Though she hadn’t expressed any nerves or hesitation over cutting it, it seemed like a very human thing to hesitate to get rid of something that used to be part of you. 

Her grateful smile meant he was probably right. He shifted his head, inviting her to lean against him. 

Maddie tucked herself against his jaw and pressed her palm flat against him, and though he couldn’t feel her own scales—they were simply too small for him to differentiate between them and her human skin—a deep, happy rumble started up in his chest without his permission. 

However the scales, or any of the other new things she was dealing with, had come to be, didn’t really matter. Rather unrepentantly, he felt warm with joy that he could see tiny bits of himself in his Pup, even in such small ways. 

Chapter Text

Mothra’s awareness was limited, her mind quiet. So long had she been asleep that it almost felt foreign to want to be free of the pleasantly warm confines of her egg. Luckily, she still had a ways to go yet, longer still if she didn’t encourage the process. 

But there was a little twinge in the back of her mind. A slight tremor. An ominous warning. 

Becoming the most aware she’d been in an age, Mothra focused on that feeling, determined to understand the meaning behind it. She suddenly sighed, as much as one could when one was still growing within an egg. 

(Outside the shell, in the ancient temple chamber, there was a sudden flurry of activity amongst the scientists present, over a slight, out-of-pattern pulse from the egg they were studying. The report containing this incident, if it could be called that, would make its way to the desk of one Emma Russell before nightfall, where it would be deemed insignificant.)

A part of Mothra’s mind had long been dedicated to keeping a metaphorical eye out for a particular sort of trouble. The trouble only her King could get into.

Godzilla was up to something. She could feel it down to her soul. 

Really, she should be glad to have gotten as much peace and quiet as she had. Her nap may have lasted longer than she had perhaps originally intended, if her King had been left alone long enough to make questionable decisions or find himself juggling with a problem or two.

She knew she often took the role of his voice of reason in the past, but had none of their kindred tried to intervene during her absence? 

Surely, Methuselah would have—but, no, he’d grown ill and decided to sleep it off in the mountains somewhere. Then, the prospect of being teased by Scylla should he need rescuing of some sort would have changed his mind—except, the tides had changed and hibernation had taken her early. She’d retreated to somewhere warm and dry to burrow. But Anguirus—no. No, her King’s old friend had gone missing shortly before Mothra’s own rebirth cycle had been set in motion. 

Mothra ran through the names of the rest of their kindred and came to a rather horrifying conclusion: with the exception of whoever yet lived on the death island her King desperately avoided, as she could not quite account for them, Godzilla was alone. 

Her heart sung sadly for him, because to be by oneself without choice was painful indeed, and her King had never particularly enjoyed lengthy solitude. 

Perhaps he’d gotten into this trouble for lack of anything else to do. Boredom bred bad decisions. 

And as much as she enjoyed a peaceful nap, her King meant more to her than sleep. She still needed time before she could hatch and go to his aid, but she wouldn’t delay the process as she’d been intending. 

Whether he required backup, a companion, or a stern talking-to, she would do her duty as Queen and be there when he needed her. 

Of course, the world had likely changed while she slept, and as always, she was eager to see what new things waited beyond her egg. Humanity never ceased to surprise her, and Mothra found herself looking forward to whatever new era she would emerge into. 

Soon. Soon. 

Chapter Text

Maddie contemplated the long drop to the ocean below from where she was standing on a rock formation that corkscrewed high into the air. The Northern Isle was still one of her favorite islands, and repeated visits had seen her climb higher and higher with less and less fear. Now, she was really high in the air and what little sense of stomach-dropping vertigo she’d still had last time was gone. 

Her perch was even taller than Godzilla. 

She laughed delightedly at this fact and turned away from the edge to scamper higher, using hand and footholds that she wouldn’t have dreamed of using during her first climb. The scales proved doubly useful here, both protecting her easily-scrapped skin from the rough stone and giving her a better grip. 

Which was especially good, since it was pouring rain. 

Thunder cracked above her, and below, Godzilla roared right back up at the sky. She glanced down once she reached a spot safe enough for pausing. He’d promised to show her something cool during the storm, and she didn’t want to miss it. He was scanning the sky, standing on one of the underwater shelves. Though it was still deep for Maddie there, the highest the water ever reached for him was midway up his thighs. Godzilla wasn’t even knee-deep, so he was waiting on one of the shallower shelves. 

Maddie followed his gaze up to the sky, but other than darkly ominous clouds, she couldn’t see anything that he might be looking at. She flinched when a raindrop hit her in the eye. She rubbed the sting away and took it as a sign to keep going. Leaving the corkscrew shape, she leapt over a wide gap and latched onto the side of a giant pillar wider around than even the biggest trees in the Greater Forest. 

She pulled herself up onto a protruding ledge. Way off in the distance, a bolt of lightning cut through the clouds. Maddie silently counted the seconds until the thunder that followed shook through her chest. 

The heart of the storm was getting closer. 

Laughing, she found new handholds and kept climbing. The thrill of danger sung in her veins. The pillar was almost straight up, and the rain was making things a little more slippery than normal. More lightning, and the pause between it and the thunder was even shorter. 

Now this was a fun way to spend her tenth birthday. 

A section of rock crumbled beneath her, and she swung free briefly, anchored only by her left hand’s grip. Catching herself, she made her way to the other side of the column, where a second, smaller column sort of sprouted out from the first. It was angled slightly, but the base at least was nonetheless perfect for a bouncy sort of maneuver that had taken months of practice using trees. Pushing off one formation, she briefly latched on to the other before twisting and pushing off that one to grab the first. Each push got her a little higher, and if she went fast enough, she barely even had to bother with footholds. 

What would her parents think of her now, she wondered, but she was quick to shove the thought away. She was really testing her boundaries today so she could avoid thinking about them. 

And the way it’d taken her far too long to remember her mom and dad’s names this morning. 

Godzilla had been right all that time ago: she would only forget more as she got older. As upsetting as it was, Maddie didn’t want to spend the day beating herself up over something that she didn’t have that much control over. 

Telling stories helped, but some things still slipped through the cracks. Even the memories that she tightly held onto felt dreamlike and faint sometimes. 

With a grunt, Maddie heaved herself onto the top of the pillar. From this vantage point, she could see most of the Northern Isles, though some of it was half-hidden by the heavy curtain of rain. She was soaked to the bone but any possible chill went entirely unfelt. Recently, she barely noticed colder temperatures anymore, especially like that of deeper waters, where the sun couldn’t reach. 

Lightning flashed right near her, and she hollered wordlessly in time the immediate thunder. It was probably a terrible idea to be out like this during such a storm, but the rush of possibly being in danger overrode any self-preservation. 

Down in the water, Godzilla ignited his spines and thrashed his tail. As Maddie watched, a bolt of lightning zapped down to him and connected. She gasped and crouched down to better lean over the edge as the blue light went blindingly white, the lightning still dancing between him and the sky. It zinged around inside his open mouth, and wiggled along his jagged spines.

Maddie jerked as the lightning vanished, leaving Godzilla as the sole source of absurdly bright light in the darkness beneath the clouds. 

He roared, and though he didn’t actually say her name, she knew he was calling for her. She also knew that with how loud the storm was, she’d be better off getting closer before calling out. 

Getting down off the pillar was only difficult if you went slowly, so Maddie bounced and leapt her way down, dropping from one ledge to another until she was able to jump to a different rock formation, one that was more horizontal. 

“G!” she shouted as she skipped over large gaps in the stone. He turned to face her, white-ish smoke leaking from the corners of his mouth. He flashed his spines. She laughed. “I’m coming, I’m coming! Just hang on!” 

Instead of descending all the way down to the churning, crashing ocean, she veered toward him. “Trust fall!” she called when she was close enough, and then she completely flung herself into open air. 

Godzilla caught her with rumbling laughter. “You ate lightning, G!” she cried as she caught her balance. 

That certainly sounds cooler than saying I merely absorbed it, he said. The effects won’t last long, but I thought you might like to see it. 

“It was awesome! Does it change your star-fire?” 

Without bothering to answer, he took a deep breath and shot pure white light into the clouds. Other than the color difference, it still looked the same, though it was maybe a little wispier around the edges. 

It makes me neither stronger nor weaker, he told her once he was done. 

“Doesn’t change how cool it looked! So what does lightning taste like?” she asked. 

It… sizzles. There’s no real taste. My tongue is tingling, however. 

“The better question is, can I do that without frying myself?” 

He chuckled. For all that my radiation has done to you, I’d rather not assume that you could, only to find out the hard way that you couldn’t. 

“Fair enough. Can we go swimming before it goes away?” Maddie peeked over the edge of his palm to see whether she was close enough to the ocean to jump right in. 

Godzilla lowered his hand before she could hurt herself, and after sending a grateful but cheeky grin up at him, she leapt. 

Once underwater, she admired the way the surface moved from beneath it, all chaotic waves and rippling from the rain, before heading deeper. She passed the edge of the shelf Godzilla had been standing on, where it was already too dark for her to see. 

He streamed past her, lighting up the water even more than normal from how bright the white was. The water rippled against her as he circled around, and briefly leaned in to nudge her with his snout. 

The unseen depths beckoned as Godzilla dove. Maddie, already feeling a new thrill of danger from the last, shriveled part of her old self-preservation, followed him ever farther from the surface, entirely without fear. 

Chapter Text

Emma Russell was rudely awakened in the middle of the night by the sound of yelling coming through the outpost dormitory’s internal speakers. She couldn’t even comprehend what was being said until someone else took over and interrupted. 

Their voice came through much clearer, and for that, Emma could also hear mild hysteria in every word. “The crew watching the egg has just reported massive energy readings. It’s hatching. Titanus Mosura is hatching. We don’t know—” 

She tuned the rest out, already scrambling out of bed. 

Swearing as she struggled into her shoes—her pajamas were going to have to be good enough for now—Emma mentally went over all the research they’d been doing. Mothra wasn’t due to hatch for at least another year. 

It’d be a pleasant surprise if it weren’t for the fact that the ORCA wasn’t ready yet. She still had months of work to complete before she’d be ready to test it. 

But now her intended test subject was making her appearance too soon. If they were unable to contain Mothra, it would mean completely restructuring her plans. 

The ground trembled as Emma burst outside and ran down the short path into the temple. Her fellow scientists were in just as much a disarray as she was. 

The egg membrane had already begun falling away by the time she reached the observation room directly outside the egg’s chamber. Everyone was in a panic, rushing around to record readings and frantically try to gather data despite not being prepared in the slightest. 

It wasn’t long at all before the massive larva was fully in view. Emma, and most of the others in the room, held their breath, waiting to see what the Titan’s reaction would be. But despite the presence of people and lights and machinery, all of which would bother any beast, Mothra didn’t attack. Her ticking vocalizations came through on the speakers, and she stared down at the humans near her in a somewhat eerie manner, but otherwise, she didn’t move. 

“The hell do we do now?” someone behind Emma asked. 

Even she didn’t have an answer. 

• • • 

Emma got in contact with Jonah as soon as she had the time to spare. 

“Nothing can be done?” he asked after she finished explaining the situation. 

“No,” she said, burying her face in her hands. She was still wearing her pajamas, with only a robe pulled over them. “We don’t even know why she hatched so early to begin with. We should’ve had another year at the earliest.” 

“Will you contain her?” 

She sighed. “We’ll try, but she’s already managed to slip into the temple’s tunnels. She’ll enter the next stage of life soon and build a cocoon—hell, she’s probably looking for a good place to do it right now. Without the ORCA, I don’t know how well we’ll be able to keep her from leaving.” 

Emma frustratedly banged her fist on the table. They were so close to being able to control the Titans, she just knew it. This unwelcome surprise would undoubtably set them back. Unleashing the Titans to return the planet to a blank state—a fresh start where the power to maintain balance stayed in humanity’s hands—seemed farther away than ever.

“Not all is lost, Emma,” Jonah said calmly. “We have other avenues available to us. This won’t be enough to prevent our plans from happening.” 

“I know. I just… it would’ve been so much easier this way.” 

“Yes,” he agreed. “But even the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry. Let’s assume for the moment that Mothra makes her escape. What will you do?” 

Emma thought about it for a few seconds, shifting through the numerous contingency plans she’d often considered. “I’ll take a sabbatical once the project here is inevitably wrapped up. Maybe not right away, but, eventually. We’ll have to choose a different Titan for a test run. That will require more planning to avoid suspicion. If Monarch even considers the possibility of someone controlling the Titans, I’ll be the first one they turn to, even if it’s not with accusations.” 

“We’ll take every precaution imaginable.” Jonah smiled. “And once we know the ORCA works?” 

Glancing over at the device spread out across her work desk, Emma nodded slowly. She’d be in control soon enough, she just had to remember that. “We begin the second part of the plan. We wake up the Titans.” 

Jonah’s smile widened. “I do so like to hear that.” 

• • • 

Mere days later, the massive cocoon that had taken up residence within a waterfall—which was a location that made it near impossible to easily assemble containment measures—cracked open. In the dark of the night, Mothra emerged beneath the stars. Her wings, dotted with water from the falls, unfurled into full view for the first time. Mist swirled around them as they began to glow gently. 

Everyone down below gasped as Mothra raised her wings and fully showed off their patterns. The eyespots seemed to blink at them from behind the streams of water, and not a single person bearing witness to the Queen’s return didn’t lose their breath from it all. 

Mothra stretched her wings up and down, slowly flapped them a few times, and, to the mingled awe and dismay of her audience, she took off and quickly flew out of sight. With the entire world at her wingtips, no one could possibly guess her destination. 

• • • 

Godzilla opened his eyes just after dawn. Grumbling in irritation—neither he nor Maddie were early risers when they could help it—he tried to figure out what could possibly have woken him up. 

Maddie was still sound asleep, loosely curled up on her side. She didn’t appear to be in distress, so he could at least rule a nightmare out. He was so attuned to her these days that the slightest whimper of pain or internal suffering could pull him out of his deepest sleep. But she was quiet and still, and her expression was relaxed. 

He couldn’t remember having a dream of his own, and he wasn’t exhibiting any hallmark of anxiety, so it was unlikely that he’d woken himself up. 

Leaning up, Godzilla turned his head to focus on the island. There was no ruckus, no sound of animals, no unusual weather. By all accounts, this was a perfectly ordinary morning. 

And yet. 

He could feel that something was off, though his every sense contradicted that instinct. Well, not every sense. He hadn’t bothered checking his alpha sense, useless as it was when all his kindred were asleep. 

Just to be thorough, he tapped into his alpha sense—and nearly fell out of their nest. It couldn’t be—but it had to be, his alpha sense didn’t lie. 

Godzilla stumbled upright just as a faint, wonderfully familiar screech echoed over the Mountains. Only a moment later, his Queen swooped into view, circling around him with a delighted trill, to land on a tall outcropping. Already rumbling with sheer, blissful happiness, Godzilla was at her side before Mothra could finish folding her wings. 

He leaned down and nuzzled against her. Her antenna tickled the underside of his jaw as she chirped wordlessly, just as happy to see him as he was to see her. 

Mothra, he whispered, you’re here. You’re here, you’re awake. I thought it’d be longer, but you’re here. 

She rubbed her face against his scales, nearly purring herself. Yes, my King, I’m here. I’m sorry it’s been so long. I never meant to leave you entirely alone like this. 

I know, he reassured her. I never blamed you. 

It felt so good, so right, to have his Queen with him once again. Godzilla closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of her, of the blissful knowledge that when he opened them again, she’d still be right in front of him. This was no dream. 

And Maddie would be so excited to meet Mothra at long last. For the first time, he would have his two most favorite people in the world with him. 

Of course, he’d have to explain to Mothra how Maddie had come to be on the island, which—while it was a conversation he’d always known he’d have to have someday—he was by no means looking forward to her reaction. In fact, he was expecting her to be quite angry with him. Temples aside, she’d been closer to humanity than he had ever been, ages and ages ago. Her protectiveness over the species as a whole would likely rear its violent head. 

There… is something I must tell you, he began, pulling away to look her in the eyes. He respected her enough to do that much. That, and to be honest. I have not been entirely alone recently. 

She chittered in confusion and tilted her head. How do you mean? Unless I’m mistaken, none of our kindred are awake. 

No, that’s right. But I didn’t mean one of our kindred. Godzilla glanced back at his and Maddie’s nest before watching Mothra. 

He could tell the exact moment she noticed the human child still sleeping peacefully behind him. Her wings twitched. 

Perhaps we should continue this conversation elsewhere? he suggested. If he was reading his Queen right—and no matter how long it’d been since he’d last seen her, he knew her too well to be reading her wrong—then things could very well get out of hand soon.

Her voice was icy and outraged when she responded, And leave a defenseless young human child all alone? How could you even suggest such a things? 

Godzilla held his tongue to keep himself from saying the many things going through his head. How Maddie had been left on her own before. How there was nothing she would need to defend herself from while in their nest. How Maddie was well-versed in protecting herself. 

The kid regularly carried a spear around, and she’d been wrestling with the wolves for months. Even Dead Valley didn’t entirely scare her anymore. 

Absolutely none of those answers would’ve calmed Mothra down, much less helped his case, so he wisely remained silent. 

Mothra looked halfway ready to attack him. Tell me, Godzilla, how did a human child come to be on this island? Her glare was as fierce as any of his old enemies’. 

After a slight pause, he said, I brought her here. 

She gestured for him to continue. 

I fought a few rogues, and I found her in the city’s wreckage. She was injured and alone, so—

So you simply picked her up and took her from everything she’s ever known? On what, a whim? Mothra interrupted. 

Ah. Well, when you put it that way—

When I—! She made a high-pitched furious sound, too angry for words. How else would you like me to phrase it? Does ‘kidnapping’ not work for you? 

Mothra, it’s—she’d been there for days. There was no one left, what else should I have done? 

She went silent at that, since neither of them knew human customs—especially current human customs—enough to know exactly how a human might’ve acted in the same situation. 

You should have found other humans and let them deal with it, she finally said, a little calmer. 

Godzilla wasn’t quite able to keep from rolling his eyes. Yes, and I suppose it didn’t matter how much farther inland I would’ve had to go. Perhaps only a dozen more buildings would have crumbled.  

Jabbing at him with one of her forelegs, Mothra said, Don’t take that tone with me. I merely mean you jumped to the most extreme reaction one could possibly have when finding a lost child. 

He shook his head, serious again. You didn’t see the city, Mothra, he said. You didn’t see how much the battle destroyed. The rubble was deep and widespread. That she survived was lucky enough. Her family… there was no one looking. The city was silent. 

And you thought to take her in yourself… oh, Godzilla. Her wings drooped. I am sorry for how long you’ve been alone. It couldn’t have been easy for you. 

Godzilla shrugged, a movement he knew he’d learned from the very child he and his Queen were discussing. What’s done is done. 

Mothra sighed. Still, she should be brought back to live with other humans. The sooner the better, so she is not apart from them for long. She shook her head. Poor thing. You must have frightened her badly. 

He snorted. She’s not much one for being scared. 

She sent him a dubious sort of look. How long has she been here? Not long, I imagine. It was only recently that I felt you were in trouble. Perhaps she is young enough to forget once she goes back. 

Godzilla found himself growling slightly. You’re not taking her. Maddie’s mine. She’s my Pup. And whatever you felt could not have been because of my battle with the parasites. They attacked over three years ago. 

Mothra grew stiff. He wasn’t sure which of those statements reignited her rage against him, or perhaps it was all of them together. Regardless, with a shriek, she flew at him, latching onto his front with her sharp limbs to beat him on both sides of his head at once with her wings. 

Three years! she screeched. Godzilla! You forced this child to remain here for three years? And you have the audacity to call her your Pup? The human you kidnapped? When I’m through with you—! 

Since he was sure he at least deserved this a little, Godzilla resisted the instinct to devolve into true physical defensiveness. He tried to push her away, gently, and when that didn’t work, he half-heartedly snapped his jaw at her. His spines powered up at the threat display, even when he had no intention of using his star-fire against his Queen. 

Enough! he roared after a moment of grappling. Call my decision-making into question, yes, fine, but I will not be challenged on the matter of her being my Pup! 

A shrill whistle pierced his ears, and evidently Mothra’s as well, as they both winced and pulled away from each other. Godzilla followed the sound down to their nest, where Maddie, very much awake now, slowly lowered her fingers from her mouth. 

Feeling quite disgruntled, even though he knew Mothra couldn’t be aware of how the last three years had been for both him and Maddie, he couldn’t help but grumble at his Queen, And now you’ve woken her up with your screeching. 

She faintly bristled, but before she could respond, Maddie climbed on top of the nest’s raised edge and stretched. “I am so not having this conversation without breakfast. G?” 

He obligingly bent over and offered his hand. I did try to have the conversation farther away, so we wouldn’t disturb you, he muttered. 

“I’m sure you did, G.” She looked up at him as he began the walk down to the Cove, and he could see the shining excitement in her eyes. “So. Mothra?” 

Yes. He sighed fondly. Mothra.

• • • 

Maddie was woken up by voices, which was incredibly odd. She and Godzilla almost always woke up within just a few minutes of each other, so it was unlikely he was already up and chatting to himself when she could tell it wasn’t their usual waking hour. But no, there were definitely two voices, and that was really really weird because there were exactly two beings capable of speech on this island, and she was one of them. And Not-Andrew was a hallucination and therefore didn’t count.

Resisting the tug of warm sleep, Maddie pried open her eyes. Godzilla wasn’t in his usual spot, though she could see him just beyond the boundary of their nest. His right side was facing her, and it took a long moment for her to register the other person in her line of sight. 

Not a person. A Titan. Definitely a Titan, given how big they were. Maddie rolled over onto her back and rubbed the bleariness out of her eyes. A second look took away any room for reasonable doubt. 

That was Mothra. That was Mothra. 

And she was just saying, Poor thing. You must have frightened her badly.

Maddie almost snorted, which made it funnier when Godzilla did, before saying, She’s not much one for being scared.

And if she wasn’t mistaken, he sounded very proud about that. 

Neither Titan noticed she’d woken up, even when she completely sat up to listen in on their conversation. She was mostly content to let them argue in peace, but then Mothra was attacking Godzilla, and his spines were glowing and he actually sounded angry—which was really startling, since she’d never heard him use that tone before. 

So she stood up, wedged her pinkies in her mouth and whistled. Then they finally noticed her.

Maddie could barely contain her excitement as Godzilla carried her down to the Cove. Mothra was awake, she was here. Godzilla wouldn’t be alone anymore—Titan-wise, anyway. But her enthusiasm was tempered by their argument. It wasn’t the best way to reunite. And it’d been over Maddie herself. 

She didn’t want to be a source of debate between two old friends. 

Her worries only increased with each passing minute spent in tense silence, so to avoid delaying a possible resolution, she settled on some of the leftover fruits at her campsite, rather than going out to find something fresh—fruit, fish, or otherwise. 

Godzilla had taken up his customary spot, lying on his stomach with the end of his nose almost touching the water. Mothra took up a position close by, leaving Maddie seated between them. 

Luckily, Godzilla didn’t allow the silence to linger once Maddie had food in her hands. Mothra, this is Maddie, he said, tilting his head between them. And Maddie, this is Mothra. 

“It’s nice to meet you!” Maddie said. 

Mothra stared for a moment before saying, You understand us. How is that possible? 

“Magic,” Maddie answered, at the same time as Godzilla said, The island. 

She stuck her tongue out at him. “My answer’s more fun.” She held up her hand, showing Mothra her palm. “And I have scales and stuff too!” 

Mothra made a shocked noise, while Godzilla preened on her other side, just as he always did when she mentioned the scales. Unfortunately, her attempt at lightening the tension didn’t last long.

Maddie, Mothra said softly. I can and will take you home, at only a word from you. No matter what Godzilla says, he cannot stop me. This is your choice, not his. 

Godzilla stiffened but remained silent. He kept his gaze out over the Cove, even when she turned to look at him. 

“G?” 

She’s right, he growled out. There was equal anger and sadness in his tone, and his jaw was set.  It’s your choice. 

Maddie sat back, somehow surprised that he’d actually managed to say that. It looked and sounded like it cost him, though, as he shifted his head a smidge further away and closed his eyes. 

That, that was something she very very rarely saw in him. Despair. 

Three years, he’d told Mothra. Had it really been so long? The past so often felt dreamlike these days, and sometimes she questioned whether her memories were accurate or if she was filling in the gaps based on what she wanted to remember. She was ten now, and had only barely been seven when the battle happened. These past three years were clearer in her head than anything from before.

She remembered being upset, all that time ago, when she’d realized Godzilla didn’t intend to take her back. She remembered being angry. But she hadn’t been either of those things in so long. Maddie had forgiven him ages ago. And she…

Well, she wouldn’t change what had happened, given the chance. This island, this archipelago—she knew it from coast to coast, had explored every nook and cranny, minus the volcano—and she couldn’t imagine leaving it.

Looking over at Mothra, she slowly shook her head. Scooting backwards until she was pressed against Godzilla’s jaw, Maddie said, “You can’t take me home,” and then, before she could be reminded that Godzilla couldn’t stop her, she finished, “Because I’m already home. Thank you for your offer, Mothra, but I don’t want to leave.”

She felt a funny hitched breath travel through Godzilla. 

You mean that, Pup? he asked quietly. 

“Of course,” she said. “G, you know I forgave you a long time ago. Does it really surprise you, that the archipelago feels like home to me?” 

Less surprising, more too-good-to-be-true. 

She huffed a laugh. “Well, that’s silly. I know I’ve never really said it before, but I thought it was obvious that I love this place. And that I love you too, G.” 

Immediately, the loudest continuous rumble she’d ever heard him make distracted her from saying anything else. Pup, he whined, to which she laughed.

• • • 

Mothra’s entire world had been flipped on its head today. Not only was the real trouble her King had been involved in years past, but he had spirited away a human child from everything she’d ever known. Odder still, the girl, Maddie, could understand them, and refused to leave the island. 

But the truly mind-boggling thing was that she meant it. Mothra couldn’t sense any distress or fear keeping her from speaking out. No, Maddie was genuinely happy here. She truly considered this place home.

It broke her heart that Godzilla had ever felt so alone that he would turn to such a dubious solution, but seeing the way the child leaned into him, and hearing the involuntary rumble of happiness her King was making… it warmed her heart too. 

And with Maddie’s reassurance that—though her arrival to the island might have been against her will—her decision to stay was her own and she held no grudge against Godzilla, Mothra could admit it was incredibly endearing and certainly adorable to see the bond the two obviously shared. 

So long as you are sure, Mothra said, drawing their attention back to her. And if you ever change your mind, even if you are only curious to see, not stay, my offer remains. 

Maddie nodded, smiling, though Mothra could tell she had no intention of ever accepting the offer. Godzilla hadn’t been exaggerating in the slightest when he told her he had a Pup. She was looking at a small, makeshift family before her. 

She found herself eager to not only reconnect with her King and get to know Maddie, but to see them together. Their interactions, their day-to-day life… this island was their home, and alongside the eagerness came the hope of being able to join them. 

Perhaps their makeshift family had room for one more? 

Whether it was serendipitous timing or Godzilla knew the direction her thoughts had taken, he looked over to her. Still rumbling away, he said, You are free to join us, so long as you promise not to hit me again. He rolled onto his side a little, providing the perfect opening. 

Standing from the sand, Mothra flicked her wings and sweetly told him, I only hit you when you deserve it, my King. She snuggled down against Godzilla’s neck, her head—entirely coincidentally, to be sure—resting just beside Maddie, lightly bracketing her between them.

Rather than provide any protest to this, the child looked plainly delighted. 

Maddie would never hit me, he said petulantly, to which Maddie offered him a nearly offended look. 

“What are you talking about—I’ve hit you plenty of times, G.” And then quieter, though this was pointless in the presence of two Titans with superior hearing, she added, “Couple times with a spear, too.” 

A spear? Mothra repeated, aghast. Godzilla, you gave her a spear? 

Don’t blame me, she found it herself! 

Maddie opened her mouth, likely to retort, only to snap it shut and puff her cheeks out. Highly suspicious. 

Godzilla continued before Mothra could ask what the child had intended to say. Besides, how else was I supposed to teach her how to hunt? Humans don’t have claws. 

And, well. She didn’t exactly have an argument for that. At least Maddie wasn’t reliant on others for food. You are careful, though? she asked. Weapons are dangerous for any human, no matter how large. 

“Super careful,” Maddie promised. “I’ve had lots of practice. Plus, G still gets twitchy when I use it, and I don’t like making him worry.” 

How sweet of you, little one, Mothra cooed. She nuzzled against Maddie, thrilled when she pressed into the touch. 

Leaning back against Godzilla, Maddie wiggled her legs in the sand. “So I’m guessing today’s gonna be a lazy day, right?” 

Please, don’t interrupt your daily schedules on my account, Mothra said. 

“No, it’s fine! We have loads of lazy days. They’re nice.” 

Godzilla hummed. Why don’t you bring your book down? Running through the Mountains might get some of that endless energy out of you.

“You called it endless for a reason, G,” she reminded him as she stood and brushed sand off her oddly large shorts. To Mothra, she grinned and said, “You’re really lucky! We’re only a few chapters into it, and I don’t mind starting over!” 

What’s it called? Mothra asked as Maddie jogged around Godzilla’s head and headed for the path to the nest. 

I can never get it right, he admitted. Pup! What’s the name of the book? 

Mothra leaned up to see over Godzilla’s neck. Maddie paused at the edge of the beach and called back, “The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles!” She turned and quickly vanished into the rocks. 

The what? Mothra asked, laughing. 

You’ll see. It’s not a bad story. Perfect for a kid who loves having adventures, too. He shook his head with a chuckle. 

They stayed like that in silence for a few minutes, pressed together. You’ve changed, Mothra finally said. And I don’t mean that in a bad way! she added when he looked ready to argue. She’s changed you. 

It’s different, Godzilla said quietly. Having someone to protect and care for. Having a Pup, especially one as curious and brave as her. There were days when I felt like I was doing it all wrong, or like I would mess up terribly. Her getting hurt, especially because of me, is… my greatest fear. 

Mothra pushed at the sand with one of her forelegs and raised a wing to settle over his shoulders. The Godzilla I knew in my last life would not have admitted to having a fear at all. 

He winced. 

It’s a good thing, she reassured him. I see it, there is something—you are gentler, my King. More open. Happy. 

I wasn’t unhappy, before. He twisted around to bend his head forward, lightly patting her head with the bottom of his jaw. 

I know you weren’t. But this is different. Fatherhood suits you. 

He grumbled to himself. She knew embarrassment when she saw it. But she was patient, and knew how to wait him out. 

Finally, he said, I know you’re not happy that I took her, but I don’t—can’t—regret it. Even when it was still so new and I didn’t know what I was doing, I… Pup’s filled a hole I didn’t know was there. 

Mothra took a deep breath. If Maddie has forgiven you, then I can as well. I was not the one wronged, and if she harbors no ill will for that, then I will not bring it up again. I—circumstances aside, I am glad you have her. 

Me too. And I’m glad you’re here now, you know that, right? 

Yes, she said, nuzzling him. I know. The faint sound of tiny approaching footsteps broke her free from the more serious mood. Quick little thing, isn’t she? 

Oh, Mothra, he said, chuckling, just wait until you see her in the water. 

Chapter Text

Maddie had always loved the stars, but there was something particularly magical about soaring through the wispy clouds beneath them. They seemed close enough to touch, and she couldn’t help but stretch her arm up as if she could trail her fingers through stardust. 

Mothra’s beautiful wings gracefully rose and fell on either side of her. It was so quiet up here, so peaceful. Godzilla had shown her how amazing the bottom of the ocean was; now Mothra had taken her to the sky, beyond the clouds, where there was nothing but space around them. 

“Everything’s so big,” she said as she slowly lowered her arm. “I thought the Cove was huge, but then I started swimming deeper with G. Now this… it goes on forever.” 

I take comfort in the vastness, Mothra told her. For as great a creature as I may seem to others, like humans, I am still quite small. And we all exist the same. 

Maddie nodded, even though Mothra couldn’t see her. “Thanks for taking me up here. And I know you always say that I don’t need to thank you, because you like our flights, but I want you to know how much they mean to me.” She shifted her legs up so they stuck out behind her as she lay down on her belly. Mothra was soft enough that she’d have to be careful not to nod off. 

I find great enjoyment in our time together, Maddie, both here and on the island. Thank you for accompanying me. It’s been so long since I had someone to fly with like this. 

“Mm,” Maddie hummed, eyelids already feeling heavy. “Do you think G will be back by the time we get home?” 

Everything about that sentence made her feel all warm and happy inside. The island was her home, and it was their home too, and together they made a family. She had someone new to talk to, a novelty that still hadn’t worn off several months later, and she could spend time with either of them—or even better, both of them. 

Another great thing that had come from Mothra’s arrival was that Godzilla didn’t have to worry about her being left alone while he was gone. It meant he could take his time on his trips to the temple, and it also meant he could patrol his territory. It was the latter that had drawn him away from the island for the past few days. 

He and Mothra both patrolled, searching for any signs of their kindred waking up soon, while trying to keep on eye on things. After all, no one wanted a repeat of the mess with the parasites. 

The idea of having even more Titans around the archipelago was daunting, in a way. She’d had the whole thing practically to herself for so long now. It’d be like playing in a neighbor’s backyard because no one lived in the house, only for a new family to arrive. But at the same time, the prospect excited her. 

Unfortunately, there hadn’t been any indications yet of another Titan waking up. Godzilla and Mothra were patient, though, way more patient than Maddie thought she would’ve been in their places. 

Mothra hummed in thought. He will likely be home tonight, though I doubt he will return before us. Can you tell if he’s close? 

Closing her eyes, Maddie tried to focus on her weird radar thing that let her tell where Godzilla was. If she wasn’t actively paying attention to it, it was nothing more than a faint tickle in the back of her head. With practice, it had gotten easier to use on purpose, and as the range grew, so did her accuracy. Now, Godzilla was too far for her to really tell any details other than a general direction, but she could guess, based on how strong the feeling was, that he was more than halfway home. 

She repeated her findings to Mothra, who shook her head with a chirp. It will never cease to amaze me, especially with the similarities to his alpha sense. 

“It still doesn’t work on you, though.” 

All the more proof that his radiation truly is the cause of your changes. Do you mind them? 

“Not at all! Although, my hearing was super sensitive when it first started to get better. But it’s fine now, and storms and stuff don’t bother me anymore!” She played with the scales on her palms. 

In the months following their initial appearance, they’d spread up her arms and legs a bit. They weren’t solid like Godzilla’s, though. Her’s were more like scattered little patches that grew less widespread the further from their starting points they went. Along with her glowing freckles, it was just one more reason why she didn’t want to return to a human life. 

Besides, even after being away for as long as she had, Maddie knew spears weren’t acceptable for kids her age. No way was she giving that up. 

They touched down on the Cove’s beach a few minutes later. Maddie roused herself to slip down to the sand, groaning at an ache in her ankle. She’d had a close encounter with a burrow in the Meadow that afternoon, resulting in her pitching forward with her foot twisted in the hole. It seemed the pain of jerking it like that was catching up to her. 

Mothra, who had been a witness to the accident, cooed sympathetically down at her. Perhaps a trip to the hot springs will help? Goodness knows how Godzilla will react to finding you limping around when he returns. 

“Ooh, yeah. No thanks.” Maddie knew exactly how he’d react, since it had happened before. “I’ll probably wait in the caves until he gets back.” 

Stretching her wings, Mothra called after her as she started down the cave, Don’t fall asleep in the water! 

“I won’t!” 

• • •

Maddie knew the moment Godzilla came within sight of the island, and it was only a few minutes later that she felt the tell-tale trembling of his footsteps. He’d find her soon enough. 

“How was your trip?” she asked as soon as he entered the cavern. 

He didn’t answer until he’d dropped down into his giant pool with a happy huff. It went well. No signs of any activity, as usual. 

“That sucks.” 

Yes, but—I found something else. I had an encounter with some humans yesterday. They have a building in the water, and it had several large windows on it. 

Maddie grinned over at him. “Did you scare them?” 

Chuckling, Godzilla said, It certainly seemed so. I couldn’t hear them through the windows, but I know what shouting humans look like. It was… odd. Though they were concerned with my presence, they did not seem particularly surprised. 

“Weird. If they knew you were there…” Maddie leaned up on the edge with a gasp. “You don’t think they’re gonna try and hurt you or something, do you?” 

There are not many ways humans can hurt me, Pup. The building did have defenses. I saw them. But they would be little more than an annoyance. Besides, he added, preening a little, I have yet to encounter a human material capable of withstanding my star-fire. 

“You could totally blast them, then. That’s good.” 

Don’t worry about me, Pup. He stretched over the distance between their pools and nudged her. 

Maddie pressed back, smiling. “That’s like me telling you not to worry about me, G. Totally not gonna happen. And humans can be pretty stupid sometimes. They don’t know you like I know you.” 

He rumbled. I will snap their weapons if it comes to it. But I will give them a chance. So long as they respect me, I’ll have no reason to attack them. I am willing to remain peaceful if they are.

“Good.” Maddie rested her head on her folded arms. The pleasantly hot water was making her sleepy. She spent a few minutes nodding off before Godzilla left his giant pool. 

It’s late, Pup, and the hot springs are no place to spend the night. We should go to sleep before Mothra starts lecturing either of us about bedtimes again. 

“Not that again,” she said, snickering. She fell silent as he shook himself free of excess water. Maddie eyed him, feeling like something was a little off. Pushing herself out of the water to sit on the edge, she did some quick mental comparisons of then and now, and came to a conclusion. “Hey, G! I think you’re getting taller!”

Impossible. You’re the one who’s shown impressive growth over these past few years. 

“So you can stand up straight without hitting your head here, right?” 

He snorted. Of course. And then, just as Maddie’d known he would, he straightened up out of his habitual hunch and promptly bonked his head on the cavern’s ceiling. 

Maddie had been expecting it, but her laughter exploded out of her nonetheless, strengthened by the way a few rocks were jarred loose and fell on top of Godzilla’s likely-smarting head. She nearly slipped off the lip of the pool as she doubled over.

She had quite possibly never seen Godzilla look so completely disgruntled. And that was really saying a lot, considering the aforementioned lecture about reasonable bedtimes.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t exactly a new argument. Maddie had asked to stay overnight on another island on her own before. Godzilla’s answer had never changed. He was too worried to leave her alone like that.

She didn’t know why this time got heated. She didn’t know why this time, it was more than her trying to use her puppy-dog eyes to no avail. She didn’t know why this time, they both lost their patience. 

“It’s just Bubble Island! Nothing with teeth sharper than Noodle’s lives there, and definitely nothing bigger than me. And it’s so close anyway, and I already even have a fort built there—”

We’ve gone on plenty of overnight trips. What’s wrong with me staying with you?

“I don’t—nothing’s wrong with that, I just want to see what it’s like to stay somewhere by myself for once! I think I—”

Absolutely not. It’s an unnecessary risk.

“It’s just one night!” 

And anything could happen in one night, Maddie. I refuse to take that chance, no matter how safe Bubble Island is!  

“But I’ve done it before, here! Before Mothra came, you left me alone all the time, and I was just fine! Why’s this so different, G?” 

I regret those times, Maddie, and if I could have done it differently, I would have. If I’d known then what I do now, I would have never allowed it. 

“What? Why?” 

Because you’re a child. At your age, I should not have left you without supervision, especially when I was unable to communicate with you. 

“But I’m not a little kid anymore! I’ll bring my spear and everything—it’s not like I can’t protect myself!”

I said no, and that’s final! Your safety is my responsibility, Pup, and I won’t have you—

She didn’t know why that in particular struck an angry chord within her. She was eleven now, and perfectly capable of spending a night on her own. Hadn’t she proven that? Didn’t he trust her?

(Perhaps it had to do with the dream she’d had a few nights ago, now stuck hovering over her like a ghost. Maybe it’d been a memory, or maybe it was all made up. But her family had been there, and she—she hadn’t really recognized her parents. Her dad’s face had been blurred, and when she woke up, she couldn’t recall it at all. 

The dream was slowly fading, even as it refused to entirely leave her troubled mind. What she could remember of the contents had been nonsensical, but with her parents lingering in her thoughts, making her upset at their loss all over again, well.)

“You’re not my dad, Godzilla!” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Maddie’s jaw snapped shut and she took a step back, shocked to her core that she’d actually said that. 

Godzilla recoiled as if she’d physically struck him. He didn’t respond, not even with a wordless grumble or huff. 

They stood in silence for a few seconds that couldn’t have felt longer, each having flinched away from the words still hanging between them. Her heart was racing, Maddie realized, and her hands were shaking. It was only when her eyes began to sting, her throat all closed up, that she turned on her heel and ran. 

If Godzilla made any move to stop her, she didn’t see it. If he called out at her retreating back, she didn’t hear it. If he did anything other than watch her run away, she didn’t know it. 

They’d been in the Meadow, near the stream where she’d learned to spear-hunt. The Cove wasn’t too far, but the Mountains were closer and offered cover. After years of practice, Maddie scaled the rocks as if she’d been doing it her entire life. She could pass through crevices and beneath broken boulders, and by doing so, she could disappear. 

She veered away the ridge overlooking the ocean, heading deeper inland. And even though she’d gotten out of sight, even though she’d escaped the horrible situation, the feeling remained. 

Her chest felt tight and her stomach ached with guilt. Her heart was pounding, upset and angry and maybe a tiny bit scared. Maddie stumbled as tears blurred her vision, and fell hard on her bare knees. Based on the sharp sting, she’d scrapped them badly. Lifting the collar of her loose tank top, she pressed it against her eyes to dry them before lunging back to her feet. 

She ran. She ran and ran and ran, as if it would help. 

(It didn’t.) 

The island passed by beneath her pounding feet, which only didn’t ache because of the layer of scales protecting her from sharp edges and rough stone. Rock became sand became water as she crossed the thinnest section of the Cove, the inner reef at the entrance. And then there was grass brushing against her ankles and trees rising up around her. She passed through the Lesser Forest, suddenly really really wanting someone to hug and Kelpie wasn’t much of a hugger, and Candy Corn was too small, and Noodle was back in the Meadow, and the wolves were all on a different island, and she didn’t know where Mothra was. 

Little Shadow, who wasn’t quite as little as she used to be, bounded up to Maddie almost as soon as she entered the darker Greater Forest. 

Suddenly exhausted, Maddie collapsed at the base of a massive tree, letting the springy moss and glowing mushrooms break her fall. Little Shadow chirruped at her before slinking up close to brush their faces together. 

Panting and crying and hiccuping all at once made it hard to catch her breath, so she wrapped her arms around the velvety soft cat in her lap, buried her face in her fur, and didn’t try to force her lungs to cooperate. 

“I didn’t mean it,” she whimpered, “I didn’t mean it, I swear.” 

Little Shadow purred and nudged at Maddie’s cheek.

“What if he hates me now? What if he never wants to talk to me again?” 

The wind rustled the leaves overhead. She was too far inland to hear the ocean. Without wanting to, she felt that Godzilla hadn’t moved from his spot in the Meadow. 

“I wish I could take it back. I didn’t mean it, I was angry, and it just came out.”

She felt sick. Her entire body faintly trembled. She was still crying.

“I—I don’t actually think that. I swear I don’t.” 

Maddie didn’t know how long she sat there, trying to wish the last hour out of existence. How wonderful it would be to wake up and realize this was all just a bad dream. 

Her legs had gone numb by the time she uncurled herself. Little Shadow sleepily opened her eyes as Maddie loosened her grip, allowing her to leave if she wanted. She didn’t. 

Shaking out the pins and needles as she went, Maddie stood with Little Shadow in her arms.  Deeper into the Greater Forest she went, and as she neared the western edge of the island, she realized the sun had started to set. It’d been midday when she and Godzilla had their argument. 

It was a stroke of luck that she saw Mothra flying nearby as she stepped out of the trees. She waved, catching the Titan's attention, and she swooped down to the beach. 

Maddie? Are you all right? she asked. You look… 

Maddie would never know what she apparently looked like that tipped Mothra off, as she trailed off into silence. “Can we go flying?” she asked when she was sure Mothra wouldn’t continue. Her throat felt scratchy, and her voice sounded a little hoarse. 

Wordless, Mothra lowered herself so Maddie could climb on. She set Little Shadow down, and she nuzzled Maddie’s knee before scampering back into the Greater Forest. 

Would you like to talk about it? Mothra asked once they’d gone airborne. 

“Just an argument,” she muttered. She almost wished the horrible feeling would come back, because even that would be better than this numbness she was feeling. Curling up on her side, Maddie closed her eyes and hugged herself. Eventually, with fresh tears on her cheeks, she fell asleep.

• • • 

Mothra kept a light conversation going once Maddie woke up. It was dark and had gotten chillier. By the time they arrived back at the island, the moon was high above them. 

Godzilla, Maddie could feel, was in their nest. 

She felt better, calmer, and ready to face him. Even if he was mad at her, she had to say sorry. 

They landed in the Mountains, out of sight of the nest. “Thank you,” Maddie told Mothra as she slid to the ground. “For everything.” 

Of course, Maddie. You will be all right? 

“I hope so.” 

For tonight, Mothra would make herself scarce, rather than join them as she often did. She took off in the direction of the Cliffs, leaving Maddie to walk the rest of the way on her own. 

At first, she thought Godzilla was sleeping, but as she got closer, she realized he was too tense to be asleep. 

It didn’t even occur to Maddie that he didn’t react to her approach because she’d gotten so good at moving silently. She came to a stop just in front of the nest’s edge. Rubbing her arm, she shuffled her feet and said, “G?” 

His eyes popped open and he quickly twisted around to find her. Maddie! You—

“I’m sorry!” she burst out. “I didn’t mean to say that, and I didn’t mean it even a little! I was just angry but that doesn’t make it any better. But I’m sorry, G, I’m really really sorry.” 

Godzilla moved around so he could reach down to her. He offered his hand, and Maddie made doubly sure she didn’t hesitate to climb on. He rolled over so his back was to the rest of the Mountains, curling around Maddie as she hopped off his palm. 

I’m sorry as well, he said. I know you’re capable, Pup, and I know spending a night on your own is neither new nor the most dangerous thing you would have ever experienced. I worry too much. 

“But I shouldn’t have pushed. I know you worry, and that’s—I don’t mind that you worry. Mostly,” she added with a little laugh. “I still shouldn’t have said that.” 

He nudged his snout against her. We all say things in the heat of the moment that we don’t truly mean. I have lost my temper many times in the past. I don’t blame you in the slightest. 

“Well, I’m still sorry. And I’m also sorry for running away like that. I freaked, and then I guess I was nervous. Mothra helped me calm down.” 

Oh. You were… that’s what you were doing? 

“What did you think we were doing?” 

I thought… he trailed off, looking away as he did. I thought you had asked her to take you back. 

Maddie gasped. “No! I wouldn’t, G, not without—no matter what happens, I’d never just leave for good like that! Never!”

Godzilla rumbled a little weakly as she leaned into his jaw. Logically, I know you wouldn’t. But… 

“Logic and emotions don’t always get along.” 

Exactly, he sighed. I didn’t mean to doubt you like that. 

Maddie patted his scales. “I say we put today behind us and never speak of it again.” 

Chuckling, Godzilla said, That sounds like an excellent idea. And, so there’s no room for any more doubt on the matter, I forgive you. 

“I forgive you too, G.” Maddie got comfortable, making sure she stayed propped up against him. “Love you.” 

Mm, love you too, Pup. 

Chapter Text

Godzilla was just beginning to make his way home after spooking the humans in the ocean building again when he felt it. The earth trembled as one of his kind awoke with a screech. It wasn’t far from him. 

Rather than celebrating, he snarled and quickly dove to intercept the Titan, who was already on the move. For this creature was no friend of his. Every inch of him instinctually recoiled from its presence, even as he burned with rage that it would dare return to walk his planet. 

A parasite. The most terrible sort. 

His jaw fell open slightly in anticipation of locking his teeth around its throat. This Titan was a threat in all ways, and Godzilla ached down to his bones with the powerful urge to kill it.

This ancient foe was not one he had personally faced before, but knowledge ran deep and he was King. Even without having seen this parasite, he Knew it and Abhorred it. It presented a danger not only to his planet, but to himself. 

Surfacing briefly as he neared his destination, Godzilla roared up to the heavens, knowing his call would carry to where it needed to go. Mothra would hear him and relay his message to Maddie. 

He would return to them as soon as he could, but for now, he sped faster through the ocean. The vile stench of the parasite reached him, guiding him straight to where it rampaged, tearing through a human settlement. Lunging out of the water, he began the fight. 

The parasite was larger than the two he’d last fought, nearly as tall as himself. It click-shrieked at him, dropping a crushed metal vessel from its sharp pincers as he rushed it. 

They fell upon each other in a mess of claws and teeth. It jabbed at him, raking the hooked talons of its second pair of forelimbs down his torso. He bit into its shoulder, simultaneously shoving it away to try and tear its flesh free. 

Godzilla barred his bloody teeth at his opponent as they backed off and began to circle each other. Distantly, he was aware of the humans running panicked below them. Fire burned over the roof of one of the buildings, sending plumes of smoke into his and the parasites faces. 

He snorted and shook his head, ignoring the sting in his eyes. As if the billowing fumes were a signal, he ducked forward at the same moment as the parasite, clashing again. 

It dodged his grasping claws to lock its pincers onto his side. The smooth, flat plane of its head slipped beneath his hands. It took a jerking step backward, attempting to drag him. 

Growling, Godzilla charged his spines. His aim was true—his star-fire slipped between the cracks of its jagged back armor. It released him with a high-pitched whine, and he took the opportunity to twist in place, smacking it across the face with his tail. 

Backing off again, the parasite gnashed its fangs at him. 

Neither of them was critically injured. He remembered the fight against the other parasites, and how difficult it was to find points weak enough to be exploited. With the male, he’d gotten lucky. With the female, he never would have been able to pull that final move off it she hadn’t been so distracted. 

He doubted he’d get the chance to blast his star-fire directly into this one’s mouth. Even if he got close enough, it was too large for him to easily overpower. This battle would be a struggle to the last. 

Reaching for his well of patience, Godzilla widened his stance, preparing to let it rush him. It eyed him warily, but with a pulsing whine, it charged. 

Before it could crash into him, Godzilla reached for its eyes. It veered away in a panic, losing its footing for a moment, just long enough for him to rake his claws against its armored plates, catching at and cracking a few. 

This sort of creature kept its soft, vulnerable parts closely protected. He would have to wear away at its defenses before he could tear out its throat or heart. In this, he was at a disadvantage. 

All the more important to keep moving, and to avoid being pinned at all cost. Conversely, he needed to outlast the parasite in both stamina and strength, so he could not overtax himself. 

It whipped back around, jerking forward to snap at him. He dodged, circling around to keep it in sight. From its side, he took in the absurd number of limbs it appeared to have tucked beneath its body. They could be troublesome. He would have to keep an eye on how it used them.

Its foremost pair were thick and sturdy, and covered in armor that was crystalline in nature, amber-orange and sharp-looking. Turning to track with his position, it struck at him with one, using it like a human might swing their fist for a punch. 

It had a greater reach than he’d anticipated, and he suffered a scrapping strike across his face for his inaccurate judgment. Godzilla stumbled back a step, briefly dazed by the sheer amount of force in the hit. As quickly as he regained his balance, the parasite made its next move. 

It turned tail and ran, burrowing into the tunnel it appeared to have emerged from before he could reach it. The coward. 

Godzilla took stock of his injuries. Bloody gashes and stinging scrapes, a bite mark that burned—did this parasite have venom of some sort?—and his face throbbed distractingly. Not the worst off he’d ever been, but the lack of resolution didn’t bode well. 

There were humans dotting the landscape, some still moving, some clearly dead. The smoke continued to rise, though it was less now. He roared his frustration and half-triumph—he was still standing, after all, which meant he certainly hadn’t lost that short battle—and returned to the ocean. 

The parasite would make another appearance. That was its nature, just as it was his to fight it. For now, he wanted to go home. 

• • • 

Maddie had been pacing the beach from the moment Mothra told her that Godzilla’s return would be delayed by the appearance of a dangerous Titan. Even though she would be able to tell when he got close to the island, her distress wouldn’t have let her do anything else while she waited. 

Not when Mothra had called the Titan a parasite. Not when she remembered Godzilla using that same word to describe the ones from San Francisco. 

The parasites from before had destroyed her home and taken her family from her. They’d nearly gotten her killed, too. If Godzilla hadn’t found her, she would have died there, trapped beneath that car. 

She had good reason to hate those parasites, and now Godzilla was fighting another one. 

What if it hurt him? What if it took him from her too? 

She scanned the ocean stretching out in front of her for roughly the millionth time in the hour since Mothra heard his call. The water was choppy and dark. A storm brewed on the horizon. Her internal sense of Godzilla remained fuzzy with distance. But it was getting clearer. He was on his way home. 

It took forever, but finally, finally, she saw his jagged spines rise above the water and cut through the waves as he got closer. He veered away from the Cove’s entrance to meet her in the shallows. 

He settled down with a tired huff and a groan that spoke of pain. She plastered herself to his snout as soon as he stopped moving. Have you been waiting here this whole time? he asked.

She nodded against him and felt him sigh. 

I didn’t mean to worry you, he said. I have fought its kind before. 

“I know,” she reminded him. “But what if it’s San Francisco all over again, except this time you’re the one who I…” Her voice cracked and she squeezed her eyes shut.

Pup, he whispered. I'm sorry, I didn’t consider that. I swear I will be careful, Maddie. It will not get the best of me. 

She pulled away, taking in the dried blood on his face, the gashes down his sides. “You’re hurt, G,” she said. The scrapes that crossed his cheek and eye-ridge looked raw and bruised. “You’re really hurt.” She tried to see his other injuries better, but he shifted his head to block her.

It’s nothing, Pup. I’m fine. This is… well, it’s far from the worst I’ve ever been dealt.

“Not helping, G. It looks like your face was dragged across the Mountains.” 

He winced. That bad? This parasite has unusual armor. I will admit, the throbbing made it hard to tell exactly what damage it caused. Am I bleeding? 

There were indeed little cuts—little for Godzilla, anyway; they were probably as long as Maddie was tall—scratched deeper into his scales than the scrape. “Yeah,” she said. “It looks like it’s stopped, though. I think it’s all dry.”  

Good. Now, I can’t stay long. I must go back out and kill it before—

“Before another San Francisco can happen?” 

Yes. He pulled back and stood, picking up Maddie as he went. The hot springs should help me regain my strength. Our encounter was brief, but I need all the advantage I can get.

She took a deep breath as he walked. “Are you sure you should be doing this alone? Can’t Mothra help you?” 

He hesitated, something clearly on his mind. No, he finally said. There is something about it… I would rather she stay here, away from this creature. 

A pit of worry and trembling fear formed in Maddie’s stomach. She pulled her knees to her chest. “I’m scared,” she admitted. “I don’t want you to go.” 

Godzilla entered the caves and descended to the hot springs. Maddie swam up off his palm as he ducked under the water. Holding onto the ledge with one hand, she bit her lip and waited for him to come back up. 

I wish you wouldn’t worry, Pup, he said as soon as he resurfaced. I’ll be fine. I have faced many enemies before, and I am still here, aren’t I? 

“I just have a bad feeling.” She fidgeted. “What woke it up?” 

I don’t know, Godzilla said after a pause. I have not encountered this exact parasite before, so I don’t know why it was asleep in the first place. Perhaps it has a hibernation cycle? 

He didn’t sound very convinced about that. 

“Are you at least going to wait to fight it again until you’re all better?”

I can’t afford to wait that long, he told her gently. He sank down and nuzzling against her, rumbling. The longer it’s allowed to roam, the more it can heal as well, and the stronger it can become. It has already found one source of radiation. I would like to intercept it before it can find another. 

“Will you be gone long?” she asked, leaning against him. 

I hope not. It will greatly depend on how quickly I find it again, and if it attempts to avoid me. It will not be an easy fight, Maddie, but I’m sure everything will turn out okay. The parasite will be dead before long, and I’ll be home before you know it. 

She nodded silently, wishing this moment could last longer than she knew it would. 

The pit in Maddie’s stomach, the terrible foreboding feeling, stayed long after Godzilla left again. 

• • • 

Godzilla set out after a quick goodbye to his family, and a promise to Maddie that he would be as careful as possible. He had subtly asked Mothra to tell her some stories of long-ago fights to try and ease her mind. After all, she’d never seen him fight before, and he hadn’t had to deal with a Titan like this since he found her. Hopefully, she would find reassurance from the proof that he knew what he was doing.

His injuries, while improved, were still bothersome. He would have to keep his distance as much as possible, which would be difficult, given how little his star-fire did against the parasite’s armor. Regardless of the danger, as King, he had a duty to stop it from wreaking havoc. 

Finding the parasite again proved simple, and this time, he began the fight with an advantage. It was underwater. 

It had a human watercraft in its mouth, and Godzilla rammed into its exposed underbelly before it could notice him, surprising it into letting go. Given the state of the ship, however, he suspected he’d arrived too late, and there would be no survivors. Tiny human bodies floated limply around them. 

He snapped at the parasite before speeding away with a flick of his tail. Twice now it had attacked humans. Maddie’s worry about a second San Francisco event was proving more valid. Godzilla had to stop this Titan before it could find a fully populated town to trample. 

He refused to have a repeat of his failure back then. 

With those long forelimbs, it reached after him, swiping his side but doing little more than scratching against his thick scales. Godzilla twisted away and clamped his jaw over one of its back legs. He violently wrenched his head back and forth, feeling his teeth sink deeper and tear through the more delicate flesh beneath the armor plating. 

Talons dug painfully into his back, at the base of some of his spines. A blow landed on his neck, then another, and another. 

Satisfied with the damage he’d caused, he released and rolled through the water, evading its vicious pincers. It streamed dark blood from its ankle. The parasite was slower than him in the ocean, so they clashed again on his terms. They ripped at each other with flashing claws, and Godzilla scorched over the Titan’s face with his atomic breath before they separated again.

It clicked and screeched furiously before retreating. He roared in irritation. Now he would have to hunt it down all over again. His new injuries weren’t quite as numerous as those from the first round, and they weren’t bleeding as badly either. This confrontation had been shorter. 

Deciding to strike again before it could recover, Godzilla chased after his foe, tracking it as much as he could even when it left the ocean and continued its journey over—and down into—land. Luck was on his side when it turned its attention to tearing apart yet more human buildings rather than escaping him. It wasn’t even far from the ocean. 

He lined up his shot as he waded out of the water. Huffing as his spines lit up, he waited for the moment when it was thoroughly distracted to blast the parasite with his star-fire. 

It reared back from the building with a pained shriek, smoking from where he’d hit it. He evaded its attempt to punch him and managed to dart in close to dig his teeth into one of the few armor-less areas on its body. He tried to force it back. 

The parasite wriggled free and twisted. Godzilla wasn’t fast enough this time, and a line of fiery pain was slashed down the front of his neck. He could feel warm blood streaming out from the gash, and before he could make a move to defend himself from further injury, his opponent ducked low and wrestled him to the ground with a grunt. It used its weight to prevent him from getting up, smashing its bulky forelimbs into him, over and over as he struggled to push back, until it settled into a crouch above him. He lashed his tail, but couldn't quite reach it, thanks to how he was pinned.

Godzilla bellowed as numerous sharp points stabbed into him, its many limbs having uncurled to hold him down. This was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid. He snapped at one, but only barely grazed his teeth against it. He tried to shove his arms beneath himself. 

Unusual movement out of the corner of his eye distracted him from his attempts to gain leverage. Protruding from the sides of the parasites face were odd, thin tendrils—Maddie would have joked they were like bizarre mustaches, two to a side—that were colored gold and had razor-sharp tips. 

He had never seen anything like them, and they snaked toward him through the air like living things. Though he didn’t know exactly what they were, he Knew with a cold instinct that he absolutely could not allow them to pierce his body. This was the danger, this was the reason he had to kill it.

A surge of adrenaline gave him the edge he needed to rear up past its defenses and slash three deep marks into the flat plane above the Titan's eyes. It fell back, giving Godzilla just enough time to stand. 

The parasite circled around him at a distance, hissing. Godzilla shook himself, trying to loosen up in preparation for another attack. His neck stung, and his side was oddly numb from the puncture wounds. He ached where it had slammed its weight into him and longed for the soothing power of the hot springs. 

His injuries were beginning to add up.

After another moment of sizing each other up, the parasite once again turned and retreated. This time, Godzilla figured it was for the best. He was weakened, and needed time to recover. Bleeding but alive, each of these encounters was slowly wearing him down.

He couldn’t keep this up forever. He needed to kill it the next time they clashed.

• • • 

Much as he would have liked to return to the island to heal before instigating another fight, he couldn’t afford to give it time to heal as well. It already seemed to be faring better than him, frustrating though it was to admit. If this became a matter of outlasting each other, he held no delusions about which of them was better armored and less injured. 

Something about this parasite was very different from the others. Those tendrils... they posed a problem. His instincts said it would be disastrous to fall victim to them. 

The humans, oddly enough, didn’t seem to be interfering. After San Francisco, and with the ocean building seemingly meant for him, in a way, Godzilla would have expected them to involve themselves in this matter. He doubted they would be of much help, though, especially given how last time, they’d wasted so much effort on attacking him as well. 

Whether they were simply observing the fights or remaining entirely out of the way changed nothing, so he was left to track his foe inland, alone. Deep inland. A mountain rose up on the far side of the large area where he’d caught up to the parasite. A human aircraft whizzed by, but there was no sound or flash of weaponry. 

He planted his feet and preemptively charged his spines. His opponent turned to face him. 

Godzilla stared the parasite down for what he suspected would be the last time. One of them was not going to leave this place.

Breathing heavily and feeling the worsening sting of his wounds, Godzilla growled as he realized something he was loathe to admit. This was not a fight he could easily win. And with the parasite not nearly as worn as he was, this might not be a fight he could win at all. 

They charged one another with dual roars. He had one advantage now: he had something of meaning to fight for—a family to return home to. And there was nothing he wouldn’t do to accomplish that. 

Chapter Text

Emma Russell was having a rough couple of days. The appearance of the creature dubbed MUTO Prime was spelling danger left and right. She raced after it, from one location to another, always feeling one step behind. 

It was proving to be a difficult task to remain in control of herself in the face of Miles Atherton’s constant pushback. That man, he was really testing her patience. 

What she needed was to do her job, not be dragged in front of a committee explaining her reasoning to people who had never even seen a Titan in real life, much less understand the slightest thing about them. 

They initially wanted to know if bombs would work. Emma had shared a long-suffering look with Vivienne. Humans never learned, did they? 

But now they wanted to let MUTO Prime and Godzilla fight, without human interference. And no matter how much she insisted that that was a terrible idea—that Godzilla would not survive another encounter at this point—they refused to listen. 

It made her blood boil. If Godzilla killed this MUTO, they were looking at significantly decreased MUTO activity. Taking out the parasite capable of creating who-knew-how-many more was obviously the best option. 

How much better would she sleep at night, knowing that dozens, maybe hundreds of eggs had been destroyed? Eggs that would have otherwise grown up into the same monsters as the ones from San Francisco. 

Let them fight, these ignorant bureaucrats said. 

That philosophy, the same one everyone had ignored back during the San Francisco tragedy, wouldn’t work here. This was a different opponent, one that was specifically evolved to triumph over Godzilla. 

It didn’t even need to kill him. It just needed to get close enough to implant its eggs into him, and then it was all over. 

“I could strangle them,” she muttered as they left the meeting room. 

“This is foolishness,” Dr. Serizawa agreed at her side. It was as close as he would get to saying that he would help her with the strangling. Vivienne just shook her head.

“It’s going to the facility in Montana,” Emma said. “And Godzilla is following it. This is our last chance to do something, people.” 

An aide ran up to them, holding a tablet. “I have the schematics you asked for, Dr. Russell,” she said, handing it over before hurrying off. 

They were nothing she hadn’t seen before, but Emma put on a show of examining them. “The tunnel. It might be our only shot.”

“How?” Atherton asked. After his show of support in front of the committee, she was willing to answer his question without snapping at him. 

“There’s a prototype sonar device that I worked on back in college. We developed it through a U.N. grant. They have whatever’s left of it now. It could make all the difference in the world.” Looking to Atherton, she raised an eyebrow. “How much pull do you have?” 

The answer, as it turned out, wasn’t much. He got the prototype ORCA out to them, but not without getting caught in the process. Emma didn’t feel too bad about it, in all honesty. 

From there, it was a race to reach the storage facility in Montana, MUTO Prime’s target, before it was too late. 

(She double-checked the prototype ORCA during the helicopter ride and promptly felt all the air leave her lungs. It was a stupid-looking device, with a toy keyboard in the vague shape of an orca—how creative—making up the central component. It was an old toy, evidenced by her dead daughter’s name written on the tail.)

• • • 

Godzilla was feeling the effects of his injures as he kicked the parasite away. His reactions were slower, his range of attack limited. He couldn’t afford to take many hits. 

The situation was less than ideal, but his determination to kill his opponent was strong. Whether it was strong enough…

There were humans on the ground, just two of them, running into the nearby mountain. He paid them little mind. 

The parasite dodged him, and slashed viciously at his face. Godzilla twisted with the strike to lessen its impact, but he couldn’t avoid the claws that raked through his scales, coming all too close to his eye. 

He followed through with his twisting motion, whipping the parasite with his tail. It stumbled back, giving him an opening to ram into it. If he could just pin it down, he might be able to gain the advantage. 

It tried to grab his neck, forcing him to back off for a moment. They briefly circled each other, and then—those blank red eyes flashed oddly and his opponent screamed. 

His vision whited out from the sharp, shattering pain coming from his back. The warm core of his star-fire fizzled oddly in his chest. Talons latched onto him, but he was too frozen to resist their pull. 

Godzilla couldn’t see his spines, and the sheer amount of pain told him he probably didn’t want to. They were damaged, clearly, and badly at that. He didn’t dare try to charge them. Smoke billowed at the edge of his sightline, coming from himself. 

He was thrown onto his back, momentarily paralyzing him with the shock of fresh agony surging through his already-beaten body. The parasite hissed as those horrible tendrils reemerged from its face and snaked through the air toward him.

A wretched sound suddenly rose up from the base of the mountain beside them. The painfully loud noise, a wailing thump the likes of which Godzilla had never heard before, made the parasite’s eyes flicker. It stumbled back with a furious screech, shaking its head as if trying to dislodge the racket from its ears. 

Well, that was an opening if he’d ever seen one. As aggravating as the sound was, it obviously wasn’t affecting them the same. He lunged up and ducked beneath the thrashing parasite, hefting it onto his back. 

Then, and only then, did he charge his shattered spines.

He nearly fell to his knees from the force of the blast. The weight on his back vanished, and he looked up to see the parasite rocket upward, only to come crashing down. Despite the thundering landing it suffered, it didn’t seem to be dead just yet. 

Godzilla took great pleasure in stomping on its face and grinding his heel into its throat. When he felt the tell-tale crunch beneath his foot, he roared his final victory. 

Sparks and smoke poured off his back as he turned toward the distant ocean. Before he began lumbering away, he cast a last glance back at the mountain. There was no sign of the two humans he’d noticed. He hoped they were okay. 

Finally, with his earth safe once again, he began the long, painful trek home. 

Later, Godzilla would barely remember the journey. One moment, he’d been sluggishly descending into the ocean after a tiresome hike over the land, the next, he was blearily blinking at the sun just poking over the horizon. 

The grass of the Meadow tickled against him, and he deeply felt each and every one of his wounds. His back ached fiercely. Why he hadn’t gone straight to the hot springs, he didn’t know. 

Or, at least, he didn’t know until his vision became a little clearer. He was curled up on his less injured side, and Mothra was tucked against his chest, sound asleep. Slumped against him just in front of her was Maddie. 

He could smell the salt of her tears, the sourness of her fear and anxiety. A vague memory of arriving back at the island formed in his mind, of Mothra’s enraged alarm at the sight of him, of Maddie’s panic. 

Of the near hysterical whisper of “I’m totally going to have nightmares about this,” before he’d fallen asleep. 

His family had been so worried. The thought warmed him, though he wished he hadn’t given them cause to become as stressed as they had. 

The hot springs could wait a little longer. For now, he curled up tighter around his Queen and his Pup, and breathed a sigh of relief that it was over. The parasite was dead.

It would probably be a long, long time before he had to fight a Titan agin.

• • • 

“The test run went well,” Emma said. “And everyone was more than understanding about me taking some time off. As far as Monarch is concerned, the ORCA only barely worked to give Godzilla an edge in the fight by distracting MUTO Prime at the end.” 

“Do they suspect?” Jonah asked. 

“That the ORCA is closer to being finished than I claimed? Or that I’m the one who woke MUTO Prime up?” 

Jonah laughed. “Either, I suppose.” 

“No. They’re all perfectly happy thinking I helped save the day.” She looked back at the true ORCA, not the imperfect one she’d allowed Monarch to see. Emma considered it, remembering how it felt to manipulate the Titan. “It felt good, Alan. To see everything I’ve been working for start to fall into place.” 

“And how did it feel to control the MUTO? The sense of power must have been… incredible.” 

A slow smile spread into place. “It was. And now there’s one less of the monsters who took my daughter from me walking the earth. Just a few more tweaks, Alan, using the data we collected, and then—we’ll be able to set things in motion.”

Chapter Text

Maddie sat in front of her paintings on the wall of their nest. They stretched a quarter of the way up, and completely covered the lower area from left to right. Considering how large it was, that was no small feat. 

In the middle, towards the bottom, were her tally marks. Her twelfth birthday had been just a few weeks ago, making it almost exactly five full years since her arrival to the archipelago. And these paintings represented those years. 

A sprawling ocean scene. The design she’d sketched out to carve into her spear. The likenesses of all her animal friends. A crude drawing of the volcano, with a stick-figure Maddie cheering at the top. It’d long since been a joke between her and Godzilla. 

She’d recreated the image from the temple he’d taken her to for her ninth birthday, only now it was her own, smaller handprint centered inside Godzilla’s profile. 

Mothra’s arrival was further up the wall. Most of the pictures with her were, since Maddie had filled up the lower sections first. She’d spent a lot of time, and used a lot of space, to practice and perfect the patterns on her wing—mostly so she could recreate an accurate depiction of her smacking at Godzilla’s head. This way, no one could forget their reunion, as much as some people might want to.

Her eyes fell on the tallies again. Five years out of twelve. That was almost half. And since her early memories were so much fainter than recent ones, she couldn’t help but feel like they were the most important years. 

She looked down at the spear resting longways across her lap. Hanging on braided threads of vine from the wrapping just beneath the stone tip were five shark teeth, and now there were twelve on her necklace, carefully hung in a simple layered pattern.

Maddie liked the physical reminder they offered. These past five years were ones she almost didn’t get to have, after all. 

Smiling to herself, she stood and slid her spear into the makeshift holder on her back, leaving the sharp point poking above her shoulder at an angle. Maddie left the shade of the nest to jog down the path to the Cove. 

The sun was high above the island, not a cloud in sight. An ocean breeze swept past her. It was, in all ways, a perfectly wonderful day. 

She was still smiling as she rounded a corner and bounded off the path to briefly perch on a large outcropping. From there, she could see most of the beach. 

Down below, Godzilla was napping exactly where she knew he’d be, half in the shallows. Tucked up right alongside his jaw, safe from the gentle waves, Mothra appeared to be sleeping as well. 

After a moment of consideration, Maddie decided to let them rest a little longer. She returned to the path and scrambled over a few boulders to detour onto a different one, one that was far smaller and much less traveled. This trail had been made by her, and it wound up and over the caves and led to the beach near the Cove’s entrance. 

This way, she wouldn’t disturb them on her way to catch lunch. 

The sight of them being so relaxed stayed with her as she ran through the rocks. Though it’d been months since Godzilla fought the parasite, it was only recently that they were able to go back to normal.

It had taken a long time for Godzilla’s spines to heal. Even now, she suspected they were still sensitive, and from certain angles, she could see lingering cracks. He’d spent over a week at the temple, though only after a lengthy soak in the hot springs. 

She still had nightmares of that day. They were less frequent now, but every few nights, maybe once a week if she was lucky, she’d jerk awake with panic squeezing her heart. Godzilla usually woke up mere moments after her. As much as she didn’t want to disturb him, she was grateful for the comfort he always offered. 

Maddie finally reached the sand. A quick glance over her shoulder showed two still sound-asleep Titans. Spotting Kelpie not too far in front of her, she splashed into the ocean and dove beneath the waves. 

• • • 

Mothra had woken up by the time Maddie returned with a few fish skewered on her spear, though it didn’t look like she’d moved an inch. She lifted a wing in greeting, and Maddie silently waved back as she went to her camp setup to cook her lunch. 

She had just started eating the third one when Godzilla startled awake with a huff. 

He looked disoriented for a minute, eyes hazy and unfocused as he breathed heavily. This wasn’t how he usually acted after a nightmare. Maddie got to her feet and wandered over, leaving her fish on a large leaf. 

She paused to let Mothra nuzzle against her, leaning into the touch. “G?” she asked as she bowed her forehead against Mothra’s. “You okay?” 

Instead of answering, he lifted his head and stared out at the distant horizon past the Cove’s entrance. 

Godzilla? Mothra asked, sounding as concerned as Maddie felt. What is it? 

He shook his head slowly and flared his nostrils. 

“You’re freaking me out, G.” 

Mothra stood and shook the sand off her fluffy body. 

There is… Godzilla finally said slowly, so distant and distracted and grim that it sent shivers down Maddie’s spine. Something is wrong. I feel it. Something is… very wrong. 

Maddie glanced up at Mothra. She didn’t seem to feel whatever he did. “What do you mean?” she hesitantly asked. 

Godzilla pushed himself up so he was braced on his hands. A growl built up deep in his throat. The earth. It shakes. Something has happened. And now, something is coming. Someone is coming. 

Chapter Text

It had taken so much time and effort, but after years of waiting, of working, of pretending, it was finally done. The ORCA was done. The plan was ready. Monarch wouldn’t be able to stop them. And they had located the first Titan to be awoken by them.

It had all come together, at long last. 

Emma opened the ORCA, just across the street from the strip mall she had her eyes on. It might not have been entirely necessary to be so close to the target, but she wanted to see this in person. She wanted to see her success with her own two eyes, leaving no room for doubt. 

Beside her, Jonah stood with a pleased little smile. He wanted to be present for the first official part of their plan, for the beginning of what would soon be a new age. 

After making the final adjustments, Emma pressed the final button. A wobbly wail burst out of the speakers, attracting a few odd looks. Their attention didn’t linger long. 

Not when the ground was breaking apart, and a monster was emerging out of the earth. 

Jonah laughed, and Emma smiled at the MUTO as it leveled the building. All at her command. 

(It felt so good to gain back the control she hadn’t had in San Francisco. She had been helpless in the face of those Titans. Now, she had the advantage, and she pulled the strings. This MUTO would never touch Andrew. No Titan would ever touch Andrew, no Titan would ever hurt him, kill him, like they had Maddie. 

She could keep her son safe, where she had failed her daughter.)

“Maybe Godzilla will show up and kill this one too,” she said absently. It’d be one less monster in the world. She needed the other Titans, but this one could go. Perhaps, if he didn’t, she could see if the ORCA’s commands overrode self-preservation instincts.

“He’ll have bigger problems to deal with soon,” Jonah reminded her, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets. “Will the ORCA work on him?” 

Neither of them really paid any attention to the screams filling the air.

“I’m not sure. Logically, it should have an effect on him, it just might not be the one we want.”

Emma changed her commands as smoke rose into the air. Not far off, sirens approached the scene of destruction. The MUTO turned as the ORCA’s tune changed slightly and lumbered off. 

“And this one?” Jonah asked, nodding after it. 

“It will wander, causing trouble wherever it goes. I’ll lose direct control of it soon, but… suggestions might linger.” 

“Mm. I look forward to seeing its progress. Now that we have our answers…” 

Emma’s smile turned devious. “Next stop, Antarctica.” 

• • • 

Andrew heard the helicopter long before he saw it. By the time he stepped out of their cabin and onto the porch to investigate, it was just coming into view over the tall tree tops, heading straight for the large grassy clearing beside their home. 

He knew his dad was nearby, trying to get good shots of the wolves again. No doubt, he’d be frustrated with the interruption, especially since it would likely scare all the nearby animals away. 

The fancy helicopter landed smoothly and slowly began to quiet down. At the edge of the woods, on the other side of the chopper, Andrew watched his dad appear, his camera in hand and a frown on his face.

The ramp at the back popped open and lowered to the ground, and after a moment, its occupants appeared.

He recognized two of the three people who descended from the fancy helicopter. Though it’d been a long time since he’d seen them, Dr. Serizawa and Dr. Graham hadn’t changed much. As for the third person, a thin, fidgety man who was about his height, if a bit shorter, Andrew didn’t find him familiar at all. The stranger carried a briefcase with him. 

Dr. Serizawa didn’t even seem to notice Andrew, instead heading straight in Dad’s direction. Andrew watched him go, debating whether he should leave the porch. He really doubted their unexpected visitors were here just to say hi. 

Instead of following Dr. Serizawa, Dr. Graham turned and walked toward him, trailed by the other man.

“Hey, Dr. Graham,” he said as soon as he thought she’d be able to hear him.

She smiled. “Hello, Andrew. It’s very good to see you again,” she said. “How do you like it out here?” 

“It’s great. Dad and I both love it,” he answered, resisting the urge to shuffle his bare feet. He was seventeen, and wearing his pajamas in front of two adults. If he was really lucky, this was just a nightmare. “Do—do you want to come in?” He gestured behind himself at the cracked-open front door. 

Dr. Graham nodded. “Please, if it’s no trouble.” She glanced back over her shoulder, at the two men standing at the far side of the field. “They may be a while.” 

Dad looked like he was getting ready to start shouting or something, so Andrew couldn’t help but agree. 

Andrew led their guests inside and got them water. Just because they didn’t host people often, given how secluded they were, didn’t mean he didn’t know how to be polite. 

While they waited, Dr. Graham introduced him to the stranger, Dr. Coleman, and then the three of them made only slightly stilted small talk until the front door burst open a few minutes later. 

Dad stomped in, followed by Dr. Serizawa, who smiled tightly and nodded at Andrew.

“I want nothing to do with Monarch, Serizawa. I thought I made that clear when I left five years ago,” his dad was angrily reminding his old friend. “Whatever schemes or problems you guys are dealing with—leave us out of them!” 

“I wish I could, Mark,” Dr. Serizawa said, coming to a stop at the kitchen table, where Andrew and the others were sitting. “But as I was trying to tell you—”

Predictably, Dad cut him off. “No. No. I’m done with it. Done with Titans and done with whatever harebrained research ‘opportunities’ you’ve thought up now. I was done being a field agent back then, and I haven’t changed my mind.” 

Andrew bit his lip as Dad stormed into his bedroom. He probably hadn’t even given Dr. Serizawa a chance to speak. Looking up at the man he more or less remembered from his childhood, he dared to use the old joke they’d once held between them. “What’s up, Doc?” 

It erased the tired frustration and underlying sadness from Dr. Serizawa’s face. He put a hand on Andrew’s shoulder and smiled down at him. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Andrew, though I wish the circumstances had been different.” He sighed, and pointedly raised his voice slightly. “I’m afraid we’ve come here because of your mother.” 

The faint slamming around on the other side of the cabin came to an abrupt halt. 

“Mom?” Andrew asked, sitting up straighter. “Is she okay?” They hadn’t really kept in contact after the split. Andrew had tried at first, but everything was awkward and distant and uncomfortable. So, when Mom hadn’t responded to his email one day, he hadn’t bothered sending another. 

She was still his mom, though. 

The three adults shared grim glances. “Physically,” Dr. Graham said slowly. “She seemed to be all right—” 

“Seemed?” Dad made his reappearance, looking thunderous. 

“She took a sabbatical a few months ago,” Dr. Coleman explained, tightly gripping the briefcase handle with both hands. “We, ah, haven’t seen her in person since. Only… on video.” 

There was a long pause as Dad stared down at him. “And you are?”

“Sam Coleman,” he said, half-rising out of his chair to offer a hand. “Monarch’s Director of Technology.” 

Andrew rolled his eyes when his dad only side-eyed Dr. Coleman’s hand. “So you’re here about my ex-wife,” he snapped at Dr. Serizawa. “Why?” He circled around the table to stand next to Andrew, who didn’t much appreciate being put between the two of them. 

There was another uncomfortable look between their guests. 

“Mark, you must understand, we are not here to accuse you of anything,” Dr. Serizawa said. “We just want to know if you have any information on what we’re going to show you.” 

Andrew leaned against his dad’s side, glancing up at him in worry. Dad merely clenched his jaw and gave a single, sharp nod. At Dr. Serizawa’s gesture, Dr. Coleman hefted the briefcase onto the table, popped it open, and spun it around to face them. 

Inside was a complicated-looking laptop, which began to play what looked like security footage. 

With increasing horror, Andrew watched his mom destroy a crowded strip mall by making a Titan burst out of the ground beneath it. Worse yet, it was the same type as the ones who had wrecked San Francisco and killed his sister. 

“She controlled it,” Dr. Serizawa said as the video ended, sounding disturbingly cold, “using the ORCA.” 

Dad slowly looked up from the screen. “The ORCA?” he repeated. “Where the hell did she get the ORCA from? We destroyed it years ago!” 

Andrew gaped up at him. “You helped build that?” 

His alarm must have been more obvious than he’d thought because his dad winced away. “It was a grad school science project,” he said, quieter than his earlier loud disbelief. “It was meant to keep whales away from the shoreline. But we destroyed it.” 

“She rebuilt it,” Dr. Graham explained. “The project was somewhat abandoned before she could adapt it beyond the original prototype. Or so we thought.” 

The ORCA in the footage certainly didn’t look like a prototype. It looked like something that had years of work poured into it. Andrew swallowed. “But… why’d she use it like that?” 

“We don’t know,” Dr. Graham said. “The man with her, we’ve identified him as an eco-terrorist by the name of Alan Jonah. Mark, I do hate to ask, but are you at all familiar with him?” 

“I’ve never seen him before in my life. And you guys probably know her better than me by now, anyway. I haven’t spoken to her in years.” 

“We had hoped he was forcing her to do this,” Dr. Serizawa said, watching the footage loop. “However…” 

He didn’t continue, but Andrew had a pretty good guess at what he was thinking. The way she was smiling—it wasn’t the expression of someone doing something against her will. It was the look of someone very pleased with what they’d done. 

Andrew shook his head and leaned back in his chair, feeling numb. That was his mom, and she’d just gotten a bunch of people hurt. Those statements clashed in his head, as if they couldn’t both be true. 

His dad broke the uncomfortable silence. “I can’t help you. Is that all?” 

The long pause where no one answered spoke volumes. 

“What else could you possibly want?” Dad growled. “Because that?” He pointed at the screen, at his own ex-wife committing murder via Titan. “I’m not touching that with a ten-foot pole.” 

Dr. Graham took a deep breath and straightened up, meeting Dad’s eyes with an unflinching demeanor. “We’re in the process of tracking them, and we’ll have a team ready to go after them as soon as we have a location. That, of course, doesn’t involve you. We want a backup plan, in case something goes wrong with retrieval.” 

“What kind of backup plan?” 

Dr. Coleman answered, “It won’t be anywhere near the same level of precision, but we’re already in the process of recreating the ORCA. Our goal is to at least find a way to disrupt the signals theirs puts out.” 

Dad turned away, all huffy and disbelieving. Andrew watched him drag his hand down his face. “That’s crazy,” he finally said. “Just having one around is asking for trouble, and you want there to be two? You use the wrong frequency, and that’s it. You’ll have a thousand San Franciscos on your hands.”

“What other choice do we have?” Dr. Serizawa asked, staring Dad down hard enough to give Andrew shivers. “This isn’t happening by accident. Emma knows exactly what she’s doing. The next San Francisco is already here, Mark.” 

Bracing himself on the table, Dad hung his head, muttering furiously to himself. “Fine,” he suddenly snapped, looking up. “I haven’t touched the software in ages, much less the research, but I’ll help.” 

“Thank you,” Dr. Graham breathed. 

From there, it was a rush. Andrew stuck to his dad’s side as they quickly locked up the cabin and entered the helicopter. The roar of its blades coming to life only briefly drowned out the thoughts swirling in Andrew’s head. 

“Why would Mom do that?” he asked after they’d been flying for a few minutes. Dad was the only one who heard him, and he gripped Andrew’s shoulder. “I just, I don’t understand what would make her want to…” 

“I don’t know, bud,” Dad said. “There’s a lot of—unbelievable things, I guess—that I could see your mom doing, but...” He sighed. “But this isn’t one of them.” 

Feeling like everything he’d ever known was being tossed around by a hurricane, Andrew turned to his dad with a panic that he barely understood. “You—you’ll try to keep her from doing it again, right? With another ORCA? You’ll really try?” 

“Yeah,” Dad said, something chasing away the anger and frustration on his face. Something that looked a lot like determination. “I’ll do everything I can, Andrew. I promise.” 

Chapter Text

There was something wrong. Godzilla had felt the wrongness enter the world, felt the way it wove into his senses and instincts. The balance of his kind was at risk, which meant the earth could very well be in danger. Nothing good ever came from this sort of thrumming wrongness.  

He didn’t much care to consider what could possibly be strong enough to incite such upheaval.  

A day or so after he first felt the tremors in his very bones, his instincts pulled him down into the tunnels and into colder waters. The memory of the parasite queen’s distress echoed in his brain. She had been forced to wake up—but how, and by who? 

By all rights, only Godzilla himself, as King, could have done such a thing. 

She would find shelter, and with their understanding, she would not antagonize humanity—or him. He didn’t need to worry about her causing trouble. 

Which was good, seeing as how his hackles raised the closer to the edge of the world he traveled. A familiar shriek reverberated through the earth, growing louder as he swam closer. 

No. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be. The not-Titan couldn’t have returned.

Right up until the last moment, Godzilla refused to believe what his every instinct told him was true: that his greatest enemy had risen again. And so soon after that last battle—his luck could not have run out at a worst moment. But there Ghidorah was, towering brightly against the dark sky. 

Hell had already broken out over the frozen wasteland by the time Godzilla surged up through the ice. There were humans scattered across the ground, their buzzing aircraft trying to come to life, and a storm that battered against every possible surface. 

Godzilla stood still in the wind, narrowing his eyes at his old foe, as he tested the stability of the ice beneath his feet. It wasn’t the most stable, but it would do. 

Ghidorah’s center head flicked his tongue at him. Still alive, I see, he hissed in mocking disappointment. 

Between the two of us, I am not the one who should be dead, Godzilla snapped. He flexed his claws and moved closer, waiting to see if Ghidorah bore any weakness from his time being frozen. 

The humans wisely abandoned the soon-to-be battlefield, though they had yet to entirely leave the area. 

And who’s fault is that? Ghidorah said with a hateful snarl. His heads ducked and bobbed and his tails wove hypnotically through the air behind him. You, oh mighty coward, are the one who— 

My only fault, Godzilla interrupted him, bracing himself, was not ripping your hearts out! 

He lunged forward, and with only a moment’s hesitation, Ghidorah mirrored him. Godzilla latched his jaw around one of the necks and tried to gouge at the eyes with his claws. One of the barbed tails struck against his leg as his foe screeched. One of the other heads dug his fangs into Godzilla’s side, but he merely clamped his own teeth tighter around his victim. 

Ghidorah flapped his wings, throwing both of them off balance. With a bellow, Godzilla tore himself away and ducked low, hoping to take him by surprise at the fleshy junctures where the three necks merged with the body. 

He got a good swipe in, temporarily taking the right head out of commission, before he had to go on the defensive as the middle one lunged for his throat. 

They gave and took ground in equal measure. Godzilla toppled into a massive pit—likely where Ghidorah had emerged from—but used the puff of snow and smoke to conceal himself for an attack. Ghidorah shrieked in pain as the thick membrane of his wings tore beneath Godzilla’s claws. 

While he was distracted, Godzilla charged his spines and fired a long beam of star-fire at his foe. The middle head, whom he had been aiming at, saw it coming and dodged, but the left head’s view had been blocked by the others. 

The injury wouldn’t last long, but Godzilla took pleasure in the brief victory of burning the entire left head, blinding it entirely. 

Ghidorah furiously raised his wings. The sky crackled, and the two remaining heads bellowed. Poison-yellow lightning jumped through the clouds and wreathed the not-Titan for a long second before it struck at Godzilla. 

The lightning—wrong, it was wrong, he knew lightning, he knew the electric buzz of his world’s great storms and this wasn’t it—snaked across his body, sharp and painful and heavy. He roared as he tried to keep his footing, but the cracked ice shifted dangerously beneath him. 

Godzilla had only a few moments to brace himself while he fell. His spines were not wholly rigid things, but they had their limits. And his full weight crashing down on them, even as he attempted to roll to his side before too much damage could occur, did him no favors. 

While there was no pain, he still felt the existing cracks deepen and grow. They were mere fractures, and it was nothing compared to the way they’d been shattered by the parasite, but he had to be more careful.

He couldn’t afford to slip up again, he thought as he heaved himself back to his feet. 

Luck was on his side, however, since Ghidorah didn’t give any sign of having noticed a potentially exploitable weakness. In fact, the old coward was taking advantage of Godzilla’s fall to spread his healed wings with a cackling screech and launch himself into the storm clouds. 

Live another day, little lizard, he called down mockingly. And watch as we bring your world to its knees! If the King can’t stop us, who can? 

Ghidorah’s cruel laughter echoed in the wind long after he vanished. 

Snapping his jaw after them, Godzilla growled. The human aircraft had departed, leaving him alone in the frozen wasteland. He returned to the ocean, Ghidorah’s threat repeating in his mind. It was not an empty one, he knew. Humanity would suffer as long as the not-Titan remained alive. 

And Godzilla would do everything in his power to stop him, as was his duty. But first, he swallowed down the seldom-felt fear rising in his throat and swam as fast as he could in the direction of his home. 

No matter what he did, he would not be able to prevent Ghidorah from causing destruction, not now that he’d gotten away. But there was one thing Godzilla could ensure: that his greatest and worst enemy never laid eyes on his Pup. 

• • • 

Maddie was sitting at the bottom of the Cove with Kelpie when she felt Godzilla get closer. She gave her friend a last pat on the head before returning to the surface. Mothra was waiting near the reefs, her attention focused on the ocean beyond. 

“Can you see him?” Maddie asked as she trudged through the shallows, wringing out her baggy shirt as she went. 

Yes, she answered. And something is wrong. He’s hurt. 

Her heart stuttered, remembering the last time Godzilla had come back all beat up. The blood, the scratches, the bite marks, his spines. “Badly?” she choked out. 

Not like with the parasite, Mothra reassured her. But he is weak. 

It was only when Godzilla emerged from the water that Maddie understood. In terms of injuries, he wasn’t even close to how he’d been after killing the parasite. There were a few dripping bite marks, and the quick glimpse she got of his chest looked singed, but then he was laying down on the sand, blocking her view. 

He huffed as she ran the rest of the way to him, Mothra gliding over to examine one of the teeth imprints. 

“Is it as bad as you thought?” Maddie asked as she drew up to a halt right in front off him. Godzilla hadn’t been able to rest since the bad feeling first struck him, and had set out for a patrol only a few hours later. It’d been almost two days since he left. 

Yes, he said wearily. I don’t understand it, but the humans have found a way to influence our kind. 

Mothra gasped. In what way? How—how much? 

He shook his head. They pulled a parasite out of slumber. We did not fight, he quickly added, no doubt because of the way Maddie’d instantly gone tense. She is the queen of their species, and she is not as… careless or cruel as the others I have fought. We have an understanding. Glancing at Mothra, he told her, She was too far inland for me to reach, but her call was one of distress. She was forced to act against her will, forced to wake up. 

That sounded awful. Maddie couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like to be controlled like that. What sort of person would do such a thing? 

“So, if you didn’t fight her, who did you fight?” 

He didn’t answer right away, and in the moment of silence, Mothra spoke up instead. I know these wounds, she said grimly, tapping Godzilla’s shoulder. I have felt these teeth. My King, please, tell me I’m wrong. 

You are not, he whispered harshly. A shiver passed through him. I almost didn’t believe it myself, until I saw him with my own two eyes. 

There was something in his voice that made goosebumps rise along Maddie’s arms. If he had been human, she might have said he sounded afraid. 

No, Mothra said, backing up a step. Her wings fluttered. No. 

“Who are you talking about?” Maddie asked. “Why are you so freaked out? I don’t—you’re the biggest living thing on this planet, G.” 

But Godzilla went unnaturally still and a horrible dullness she’d only seen a few times before entered his eyes. I’m not. 

She bit her lip and resisted the urge to look away. “Not what?” 

The biggest living creature on earth. There is… another. My greatest enemy, my oldest foe. That is who has been awoken. That is who I fought earlier.

“Oh. But—” 

He’s dangerous, Maddie. We, in our fights, are… too evenly matched. But this monster doesn’t know where the archipelago is. You’ll be safe here. 

“G—” 

I don’t fear him. But he is part of my greatest fear—losing you. If anyone could take you from me, and leave me helpless and unable to save you, it would be him. 

Maddie finally made herself move, stepping closer so she could press her hands against Godzilla’s snout. There was blood around his mouth, dripping from his teeth when he spoke. “Then Mothra can help you, and together—”

No. He lifted his eyes without moving his head, obviously refusing to break contact with Maddie, and locked gazes with Mothra. You will stay here. No matter what happens, you stay with her. If I cannot beat him, I need to know she’ll be taken care of. 

To Maddie’s surprise, Mothra didn’t argue. She merely dipped her head and said, Of course. 

All at once, a sick and furious feeling welled up in Maddie’s chest. “No!” she cried, slamming her fists against Godzilla’s scales. “You don’t get to say that! You don’t get to, to go off to your death and just leave me here! Not again, not after last time!” 

Maddie, he rumbled. But there were angry tears blurring her vision, so she bent her head and hit him again. It was probably nothing more than a tickle against his thick skin. Pup, he tried. 

“You can’t leave me, please, you can’t.” Her voice cracked on her plea, and she heard the whimper building beneath it. “You’re my dad, G, you… please.” 

Godzilla nudged upward when it seemed like her knees couldn’t hold her up, catching her against his snout. I would never accept defeat so easily, he promised. But I have feared for your safety in many things. Dead Valley, the more dangerous ocean-dwellers. A hint of humor found its way into his words as he said, Never knowing if I’d turn around and find you at the top of that stupid volcano. 

She laughed, thick with the sobs she was swallowing back. “I’ll climb it someday, G.” 

Promises promises. He flared his radiation, letting her feel its warmth and power, letting her feel the way his very presence echoed within her down to her soul. But I have been able to protect you, to some extent, from all of those things. This enemy of mine… I have spent many nights hoping he would rot in his prison and never emerge again. But now he has, and I don’t think my heart could take it, if I saw him go after you. 

“But—”

I have to go. The sooner I stop him, the better. This isn’t like with the parasite, who killed by circumstance. Ghidorah… 

A shiver passed over Maddie. The dread and weight with which Godzilla said his name… She’d never heard him sound like that before.

Ghidorah will intentionally take as many lives as he can, both for his own enjoyment and as a slight against me. That is why you must stay here. If he knew about you… Godzilla’s expression turned distant. 

Don’t think about it, Mothra whispered. You mustn’t even consider it. 

Maddie helplessly shook her head, too many thoughts swimming through her brain for her to choose one and speak it aloud. She wanted to insist Mothra go with him, she wanted to insist he stay here. For a brief, selfish moment, she wanted to say forget about the rest of the world, I need you. 

The thought passed as quickly as it came, though. Whatever else, she’d rather die than try and force him to make that choice. 

“You have to come back,” she finally said. “You have to, G.” 

He sighed and nuzzled against her. I promise I will do everything in my power to return to you, Pup. 

Feeling like she was watching everything happen from beyond her own body, the next few minutes passed too quickly, and before she could even finish processing it, Godzilla was diving back into the ocean. 

Maddie and Mothra stood in silence, watching the empty horizon. “It’s happening again,” Maddie finally said, rubbing at her wet cheeks. “This is exactly what happened last time, with the parasite, and now he’s… he’s being stupid all over again!” She kicked at the sand as a hiccuping sob fought its way up her throat. 

Mothra settled down and stretched a wing up and over Maddie to draw her closer, until she was burying her face in the fluff of Mothra’s neck, where she could at least muffle her crying. She didn’t respond, and Maddie wondered if it was because she genuinely had nothing to say that wouldn’t make things worse. 

The way Godzilla had talked, this enemy was beyond any other. If he’d been worried about the parasite half a year ago, about what it might do to the world, then this Titan was twice as bad.

Something occurred to her. She leaned back. “Mothra, were his spines okay? I wasn’t able to see them.” 

Having been shattered like they were had resulted in months of slow healing, which the hot springs couldn’t seem to help. It’d been a source of concern then, as she’d wondered whether he was lying about them not causing him pain. Now, their still-cracked state caused terror to spike through her.

They… were intact, Mothra answered slowly. 

Maddie sat up straight. “But were they okay? The cracks that haven’t gone away yet, they weren’t any worse, were they?” 

Mothra sighed. Maddie… 

“Don’t lie to me, Mothra. Please.” 

There was new damage, she quietly admitted. Nothing that would affect his star-fire. He probably fell on them. He’ll be fine. She muttered something else, too quietly for Maddie to entirely hear. All she caught were the words foolish idiot. At least they were in agreement on that.

It didn’t make her feel any better, though. Godzilla was already at a disadvantage, no matter how much he probably would have protested—foolish idiot, indeed—and he’d ordered Mothra to stay here. All of their friends were still sleeping too. So, if he ended up needing backup, who was going to help him? 

Maddie clenched her fists in her lap and glared out over the ocean. There was a terrible feeling forming in her stomach, worse even than when he’d left to fight the parasite for the last time. 

Chapter Text

They stood around Castle Bravo’s control room in shocked silence. The report from the team who went to Antarctica hung in the air. 

“So Monster Zero’s awake,” Mark said. He was painfully grateful none of them had gone. There’d been no reason to, not when they expected to encounter terrorists. He was even more grateful that Andrew, who had been taken to a stateside base for his own safety, hadn’t been present to hear of this new horror his mother had committed. 

It’d been easy to fall back into his old research, and they’d made great progress over the last day or so. It was only a matter of fine tuning the technology before putting it all together before they could use the jury-rigged ORCA 2.0. But whether they would be fast enough to prevent the next disaster Emma had planned… Mark couldn’t guess. 

“Oh, Emma,” Vivienne whispered mournfully, hands raised to her mouth. Ilene wrapped her arm around her shoulder. 

They’d lost good men and women, both to Jonah’s crew and to Monster Zero’s rampage. The only reason the rest had gotten away at all was because of Godzilla’s timely interference. 

Colonel Foster straightened up. “Dr. Serizawa,” she said. “How would you describe Godzilla’s involvement?” 

“Deliberate,” he answered without hesitation. “His arrival could not have been an accident. His territorial paths have never included those waters.” 

“So that means he was already on his way when Monster Zero woke up, right?” Rick asked. “But how could he have known?” 

Dr. Serizawa shook his head, unable to answer. 

“Can we count on his assistance going forward?” the colonel asked. 

“Yes, I believe so,” he said after a moment’s thought. “Godzilla never gave up when fighting the MUTOs. There is no reason to believe he would now.” 

“Let’s hope you’re right about that,” Rick called from his desk. “Because based on these flight predictions, Monster Zero’s gonna hit land soon. And land means people. Lots of ’em.” 

“We cannot forget Emma,” Ilene said. “She’s woken and unleashed two Titans. We must assume they will not be the last.” 

“Any guesses on who’s next?” Mark asked. 

• • •

He wants you to be safe, Maddie.  

“He doesn’t get a vote if he’s dead!” 

A sigh. He’s going to be furious with me for allowing this—even more so if you are hurt in the process. 

“I’ll let him ground me for the rest of my life, Mothra, I couldn’t care less. He needs us, I just know it. He needs me.” 

…Very well. Come, we may not have much time.

• • •

It all went to hell from there. They got in the Argo, headed west, and received an impassioned but insane lecture from Emma herself. When they neared her next target, Rodan, they weren’t alone. 

There were evacuation efforts, close calls, alarms. Monster Zero fought Rodan, chased the Argo, then was dragged into the ocean by Godzilla. 

Maybe it all would’ve been okay if they’d let nature take its course. Maybe the nightmare could’ve ended right then and there. 

They’d never know for sure. Because, right when it seemed like Godzilla was gaining the upper hand, the Oxygen Destroyer arrived. 

• • •

On Mothra’s back, soaring through the clouds, Maddie suddenly collapsed forward, abruptly unable to breathe around a tight, squeezing pressure encompassing her lungs and throat and heart. It popped, or snapped, and a terrible emptiness took its place. 

She screamed—in agony, in sorrow, in fury. 

• • •

It was raining over Castle Bravo. All the Titans were awake now, thanks to the newly-realized Ghidorah. Whether that had been part of Emma’s plan or not, what was done was done. It felt like the end of the world. And Godzilla, perhaps the only Titan who both could have and would have done something about it, was dead. 

With any luck, the ORCA 2.0 would do something. Any change at that point would be better than no change. 

But in the face of everything he’d ever known coming to an end, there was really only one thing Mark wanted to do: go be with his son. 

“Good luck,” Sam told him on Castle Bravo’s landing pad. “And thank you, for your help.” 

Mark’s part in recreating the ORCA had reached its conclusion, and he could say he was proud of what they’d done. The bioacoustics program only had to finish uploading before they could give it a try. He didn’t need to be there for that. 

It was only a matter of hoping and praying for the best. If ever there was a true need for a miracle, it was now. 

The clouds parting in a bright flare of golden light wasn’t what he was expecting. 

He squinted through the rain as he and Sam joined a small crowd at the edge of the landing platform, entranced with the luminous sight before them. Mark was just able to catch a glimpse of beating wings before the light flared out, briefly engulfing everything and leaving spots in his vision. 

The rain stopped. 

A shocked murmur rose through the gathered group of people as Mothra, of all creatures, slowly descended from the heavens. They shuffled back as one, nervous and wary, but lacking a real reason to fear her. 

Mothra, Queen of the Titans, was meant to be the kindest and most gentle, after all. She was also supposed to be missing, considering her surprise hatching and subsequent disappearance about a year and a half ago. 

Briefly, Mark was distracted with wondering whether Mothra had been part of Emma’s scheme. Considering her position at that outpost, it was likely. It made his blood boil, the thought of her having this planned for so long right under everyone’s noses. Emma had put on a smile and went about her day for months—years, even—surrounded by the very people she intended to betray. 

He snapped out of it when Mothra lowered herself right to the edge of Castle Bravo. The collective gasp of everyone watching was loud in the silence. Because there was a person on top of Mothra. They leapt off the Titan and landed in a crouch without faltering from the large drop. 

The person—just short, or a child?—straightened. It actually was a child, Mark realized. She—as far as he could tell—was lean and looked like she wouldn’t quite reach his chin. Her dark brown hair was slightly wavy and brushed the tops of her shoulders. She wore a dirt-smeared purple t-shirt that was at least two sizes too large, and a pair of knee-length brown shorts. 

She was a little wild thing, barefoot and baring her teeth at them, Mothra hovering just behind her. Her eyes, Mark realized, were glowing a bright blue. 

“Where’s Godzilla?” she asked before anyone else could speak. “What have you done to him?” An undertone of a growl wove through her words, and there was the barest hint of an odd accent, the likes of which Mark had never heard before. She balled her fists up and slid one of her feet back—a defensive position, an I’m-ready-to-attack-you position—and Mark realized with surprise that she looked entirely willing to fight them. 

But the strangest thing was, there was something familiar about her. Her voice, or her appearance… Mark racked his brain, trying to think of who she reminded him of—

No one had the chance to answer her, because all the wind punched out of Mark’s lungs in a pained noise. An old, scarred-over crack in his heart tore open anew, because unless Mark had really lost his mind, he was staring at his daughter.

Five years—going from seven to twelve years old—obviously meant she was different, but. But he could see it. Could see his little girl’s face in this wild child’s, could recognize her eyes even with their unnatural blue color. She was tanner, and taller, and so strong looking, so fierce, and—she was alive. 

Maddie was alive. He nearly fell to his knees as the thought crossed through his mind, contradicting the cold, nightmarish reality that began five years ago. He’d spent so long reminding himself that she was dead, dead and gone, that to think otherwise now was antithesis. His entire self rebelled and yet—the proof stood before him. 

Madison Russell was alive. 

His legs moved without his conscious input, and he took a shaky step forward, feeling heavy with his own hesitance. Because what if he was wrong? What if the resemblance was merely a devastating coincidence? What were the odds that, five years after her supposed death, Maddie returned on Mothra’s back to angrily demand answers to Godzilla’s whereabouts? 

“Maddie?” he whispered hoarsely, feeling the weight of the those five years in that one, single, word. It was a name he’d believed he would never use again. “Is that you?” 

Please let it be you, his heart cried, begged, weeped. A miracle, he’d thought. The rest of the world could crumble if it meant this was his miracle. 

(In a moment of sheer epiphany, Mark suddenly understood something about his ex-wife. Something about one’s child, and desperate-despairing hope, and how little the rest of the world might matter.

Emma had stood at the opposite end of the spectrum as this moment, right now, he realized. Accompanying his epiphany was the uncomfortable truth that Mark would gladly see the world burn to have his daughter back; whereas Emma had decided to burn the world in her daughter’s absence.

A sacrifice versus a punishment.) 

The child—his child—stared at him with brows furrowed in confusion. There was no recognition on her face, and in the span of those few seconds, Mark thought this must be what dying felt like. 

But then. But then. 

Something in her inhuman blue eyes changed and her head tilted curiously. Hesitantly, like she was as wary and unsure as he was, she asked, “Dad?” 

Mark’s vision blurred, and after taking another two steps forward, he did fall to his knees. Burying his face against her, his arms raised to press against her back, he sobbed. “You’re alive,” he gasped, dizzy with realization and something so much deeper than relief. “You’re here, you’re alive. It’s you. It’s you.” 

He babbled senselessly into her shirt, stumbling over the dozens, hundreds, thousands of things he wanted to say. “Maddie. Maddie. I thought—we all thought… you…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t bear to think of her as dead when she was standing right in front of him, whole and alive and real. 

She moved in his grasp and only through monumental effort did he manage to keep himself from locking her in place. Instead of stepping away, though, she slipped downward in the circle of his arms so she was kneeling too. There were tears in her eyes, and disbelief and confusion, but she smiled tenuously.

“I thought you were dead,” Maddie told him. “After all the screaming, and—I was alone. We thought you all must have died.” 

Mark briefly wondered about we, but that thought escaped him like smoke in the wind when Maddie leaned forward, wrapped her arms over his shoulders, and buried her face in his neck. He clutched her to himself like she was the only thing keeping him from drowning in his age-old grief, or floating away, weightless with this revelation. 

“How?” he asked. “How is this possible? Where have you been?” 

He felt her take a deep breath before pulling away, though not so far that he had to let go. Her cheeks—covered with freckles, blue ones—were shiny with her own tears. “It’s a long story,” she said, smiling slightly. “And I’d like to tell it to you one day. But right now, I need to find Godzilla.” 

Feeling off-kilter and undeniably in shock, Mark tried to regather himself. Right, right, the world was ending. Explanations could wait. Shaking his head, Mark told her, “Godzilla’s dead, Maddie. They killed him.” 

She twisted around to look back at Mothra, who seemed perfectly at peace beating her wings in long, slow strokes to hover in place. The sheer size of her startled Mark, and he inwardly smacked himself for so completely forgetting there was an entire Titan just a few yards away. 

Then again, his distraction was more than warranted. Perhaps Ghidorah had killed them after all, and this was all just a dream after death. Paradise, if only his son was with them. 

Mothra trilled. 

“Yeah, he’s not dead,” Maddie said. “I can’t tell where he is, and Mothra can only just barely sense him, so he’s not doing well, but G’s still alive. I gotta find him, though. He needs help.” 

Maddie rubbed at her cheeks as she stood, and Mark reluctantly followed. His head swam once he was upright, but some of that might have been because of his immense confusion. Before he could ask if Maddie could understand Mothra, he heard Sam call his name. 

The crowd had dispersed at some point, perhaps to offer privacy—several people loitering around were sending them unsubtle glances full of curiosity, though—leaving only Sam Coleman standing a respectful distance away, shifting his weight back and forth. 

He jerkily raised his cell phone. “Dr. Stanton’s found signs of Godzilla. We can’t track him, but…” Sam gestured at Mothra, shifting his gaze to Maddie. “Can she?” 

A nearly tortured look passed over Maddie’s face. “Not right now. He’s… he’s so close to dying, she can’t feel him well enough. We were already heading in this direction when she lost him, and…” She glared briefly at the warships bobbing in the water surrounding the base. “We thought maybe this place was why.” 

“The bomb that nearly took him out was sent by someone else,” Sam said distastefully. “And on top of that, his fight with Ghidorah... Godzilla’s incredibly weak right now, but—”

Maddie interrupted him with a gasp of realization. Whirling around, she said to Mothra, “He must be at his temple! Do you know where it is?” 

Mark flinched at Mothra’s high-pitched, responding shriek. It echoed over the ocean like an eerie siren call. 

“Was that… a yes?” Sam asked. 

Maddie nodded firmly. “She can lead us there. It’ll be deep underwater—” 

“We have a sub,” Sam said. A funny, confused expression came over Maddie, before some realization replaced it. “It’ll be able to go anywhere Godzilla can.”

“What about nukes?” Mark added. At Sam’s uncomprehending look, he clarified, “So we can help him.” 

“I’ll let you bring that up with Serizawa. Ling and I will stay back to finish with the ORCA.” 

Mark laughed, feeling wrung out and maybe a bit like he was dreaming. “I’d say that sounds like a real plan.” 

Maybe not all hope was lost.

Chapter Text

Maddie couldn’t help it. She kept stealing glances at the man—her dad—all throughout the unnecessarily complicated process of boarding the sub, which she vaguely recalled was short for submarine. 

He was familiar enough, though faintly, like a dream. The way he’d hugged her—tight with desperation—brought back more memories than his face did. Lingering flashes of comfort and safety had filled her mind, convincing her as much as his reaction that, yeah, he was her father. 

She flexed her fingers and watched the people in the room bustle around. They were so loud, and there were so many of them. The metal room was small and full of tables and machines and flashing lights. Maddie had to deliberately even out her breathing to keep from panicking. Though she had no way of knowing the word, she found the space claustrophobic. 

And it was… strange, seeing people again. Five years didn’t sound like too much, but when she could only barely remember anything from before San Francisco, it might as well have been a lifetime. Some of them kept sending her looks, and she was frustrated to realize she was unable to properly read their emotions. 

Godzilla and Mothra were so easy to understand. Humans were not, and she inwardly laughed at herself for the thought. She was human, after all. 

But there was a clear divide. A lot of them, mostly the ones all dressed the same, moved and stood stiffly, and kept their faces disconcertingly blank. The others, like her dad, were looser, but they kept pressing in around her, reaching out to touch, and smiling in a way that couldn’t be happy. 

That was another thing. Touch. It’d been years since she’d felt the press of another human’s skin against her own, and she wasn’t entirely sure whether she liked it or not. As warm and soft and gentle as the contact was, it just wasn’t what she wanted. 

Maddie wanted the rough, firm press of Godzilla’s scales. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t hug her like a human could. Not with the way he could curl his head around her when she leaned against his neck. Or the way he could hold her in his hand and she knew she was completely and utterly safe, or let her flop on his stomach while they were floating out in the middle of the ocean.

She’d liked her dad’s hug, don’t get her wrong. But she’d spent years growing used to other forms of physical comfort, and her human father couldn’t provide any of those. Those were the ones she wanted right now, the ones she needed. 

Fidgeting anxiously, Maddie silently slipped closer to the group her dad was part of. There were four others besides him, two men and two women. The latter had introduced (reintroduced? Had she known them, before?) themselves as Vivienne and Ilene, and only a very old memory of using titles or something prompted her to call them by “Miss.” 

She hadn’t caught the white-haired man’s name, and the other was a doctor or something. Considering the circumstances, she wasn’t at all offended about the lack of introductions. They seemed to recognize her, or at least had been told who she was, though. 

They were looking at a screen, talking about the images it was showing from outside the sub. Murals, a lot like the one from the temple on her birthday a while ago, decorated the walls. There were broken statues too, and before Maddie knew what had happened, they were calling for the sub to stop. 

It jostled slightly, nothing at all like the chaos of going through one of Godzilla’s tunnels earlier. 

Two of the screens in front of the white-haired man went blank and fuzzy, and Maddie leaned forward as the middle one suddenly showed footage from above the water. And there, in the fiery orange haze, was the familiar silhouette of Godzilla’s spines.

“G!” she cried. “Is he far?” 

The man shook his head. “Not by much. There’s basically a big room up ahead. We just can’t get any closer.” 

“Why not?”

“Radiation, kid. Exposure to that much wouldn’t do any of us any favors.” 

Maddie stepped back in confusion. That couldn’t be right. “But it’s helping him,” she protested. “It’s how he gets stronger and heals and stuff. He needs it.” 

He swiveled around in his chair, his mouth a tight line. Did that mean he was unhappy? Angry? “Godzilla’s a lot different than us, kiddo. What makes him stronger would kill us.” 

The adults’ conversation moved on, but Maddie was stuck. Had she gotten it wrong somehow? Wasn’t Godzilla’s radiation not only the source of his star-fire, but the scales on her hands and the freckles on her face and back? Couldn’t she breathe underwater—something she’d gotten so used to doing, she’d nearly forgotten it wasn’t normal for humans—because of him? Hadn’t her senses gotten better? Wasn’t her ability to find him thanks to the radiation? 

Rubbing her fingers over the scales on her palms, she shook her head at herself.

No. No, none of that was wrong. Godzilla wasn’t wrong, and he was the one who’d told her that his radiation was the source of her changes. 

But these people seemed smart enough to know about this kind of stuff. So why didn’t it all line up?

She tuned back in just in time to hear the doctor say, “I’ll go.”

“What the hell does that mean?” her dad asked. He sounded confused and almost disbelieving. She'd missed what they’d been talking about, whatever the doctor had volunteered for—taking the bomb, maybe? That was their plan, that was why they were here, to give Godzilla a boost. But why would that be such a bad thing?

“There must be another way,” Miss Ilene said quietly. 

Miss Vivienne bit her lip, her eyes suddenly glassy. She stepped in front of the doctor, and they stared at each other in silence for a long moment before she squeezed her eyes shut and leaned forward to hug him. 

It struck Maddie as a goodbye. Like when she pressed herself against Godzilla’s snout. Miss Vivienne’s mouth moved, but whatever she said was for the doctor’s ears only. She was crying when she stepped away. 

The other adults each took their turn to speak quietly with the doctor, and only once they’d each gone did he look at Maddie. “I am glad to have seen you safe and sound, Maddie,” he said. “Your family has missed you very much.” 

She nodded slowly. “G won’t hurt you,” she told him, wondering if they all seemed so serious because they thought the doctor would be in danger. 

He smiled slightly. “I never believed he would.” 

He must have been one of the few, in that case. The five adults all left the room shortly after, leaving Maddie somewhat bewildered over the entire interaction. She was missing something, she was sure of it. She just didn’t know what. 

Slumping into the white-haired man’s chair, she stared at the image of Godzilla while they were gone. He was laying down, collapsed half on his side, half on his stomach. How many times had she seen him sleeping in their nest like that, or lazing about the beach or the Meadow? The empty space where she could usually feel him seemed to flutter in her chest—even if it was just a little, directionless spark.

He wasn’t dead, she angrily reminded herself. Just because he was so still, and neither she nor Mothra could feel him very well, didn’t mean he wouldn’t be okay soon. Her dad had explained how they’d use a nuke, a bomb, to give Godzilla a boost. He’d be back on his feet in no time. 

Her leg restlessly jittered up and down. Forget being grounded for making Mothra take her away from the archipelago, Maddie was gonna ground him once they got home. He wasn’t allowed to leave the island until she said so. They could serve their groundings together, even. 

Her brain stalled for a moment, catching on one of those thoughts. She’d come out here to help Godzilla and make sure he made it home, but… she’d found her human dad in the process. He—he would probably expect her to go with him, wouldn’t he? Because she was his daughter who wasn’t actually dead.

But—the archipelago, and Godzilla and Mothra…

She sank down against the chair back, suddenly shaking. It was like a giant wave had just crested over her, sending her tumbling in its tide. The thought that her family was alive hit her anew, and this time, she felt proper shock settling in her bones. 

The mother of all delayed reactions squeezed her heart, and she bit her lip as tears welled up in her eyes. Maddie folded her arms on the desk and rested her chin on them, so she could keep staring at Godzilla on the screen. 

No one had mentioned her mom, but if her dad and brother were alive, presumably she was too. Would they be as happy as her father was to see her again? Or had they moved on? She had missed so much, but then, so had they. There were so many questions she had, and they probably had plenty too. 

And her head was a mess, just a great big tangle of too many thoughts and feelings, and part of her kind of hoped she was dreaming, but another part desperately hoped she wasn’t. It was all too much, and everything was happening on top of seeing Godzilla hurt and having to watch him leave, knowing he was going to get more hurt, and then feeling him die, and now seeing him alive but barely, and—

She squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to take deliberately long, slow breaths. 

Maddie wished Mothra had been able to come down with them, because she could really use her support and wisdom right now. What would Mothra say, she asked herself. 

Probably to calm down and focus on just one thing. She only had to do one thing at a time. 

Save Godzilla, her heart said right away. So, fine. That would be her One Thing. Her human family, as important as they were, weren’t currently dying. Therefore, they could wait their turn. 

Feeling much better—though still confused—Maddie stood up, intending to go find the adults. Lucky enough, they came back in before she could go and get herself lost. They were oddly silent, and they’d only been back for a moment when a very strict looking man approached them.

“We’re turning around,” the strict man said. “We'll depart in ten minutes. Dr. Serizawa will have launched the sub by then.” 

Maddie frowned as he walked away. Turning to the other adults, who all looked teary-eyed and upset, she finally voiced her confusion. “I don’t understand. Why aren’t we waiting for him? How will he get away from the bomb?” 

Her dad was bracing himself on a desk, head bowed low. Miss Vivienne wiped her cheeks dry and shared a quick glance with Miss Ilene. “Maddie,” she said, sounding like she was trying very hard not to cry. “Dr. Serizawa won’t be coming back. The radiation inside that chamber, it’s too strong for a human to survive. Even if we waited, he would die from exposure.” 

Her voice caught at the end, and she turned away. Miss Ilene hugged her close, and the white-haired man visibly clenched his jaw as he glared fiercely at his computer screen. 

Maddie’s mind raced. So it was about the radiation. She wanted to protest that Godzilla’s radiation wasn’t dangerous—but maybe the doctor was allergic or something? Two adults had now said it was too strong for a human, but that didn’t make any sense. Could it be that some people just couldn’t handle it?

“But if it’s gonna hurt him, why wouldn’t someone else go?”

The white-haired man glanced at her. “Doesn’t matter who goes, kid. It’d kill any of us.” 

Crossed her arms over her chest, Maddie retorted, “Not me, it wouldn’t. I’ve never had any problem with G’s radiation. How do you think I got my scales and freckles, mister?” 

He frowned. “They must be from something else. Radiation like that is deadly to humans. All humans.” 

Huffing, Maddie rolled her eyes. “Well, it’s true whether or not you believe me. G said so. So I’ll go. It won’t hurt me.” 

“Absolutely not,” her dad said, turning his head toward them. “You’re not going anywhere near that chamber.” He straightened up, all serious and looming. 

She snorted. She’d had Godzilla as a dad for the past five years. Her human father was going to have to work on the whole intimidation thing if he really wanted to, well… intimidate her. “It won’t hurt me,” she repeated, just in case they weren’t understanding her. “Why shouldn’t I go?” 

You’ll be letting the doctor die for no reason if you don’t, she almost added, but given how crushed Miss Vivienne still looked, it’d probably do more harm than good. She wasn’t cruel.

“I’m not taking that risk,” her dad told her. “You’re staying here.” 

Maddie pouted and sat down in a free chair with a little hmph. Best way to get a parent to let down their guard was for them to think they’d won. She’d had plenty of practice balancing just the right amount of reluctance and acceptance while keeping her smugness concealed.

Sure enough, it only took a few seconds for the various adults in the room to forget she existed. On silent feet, she stood and slipped away. 

Did it say something about her that she didn’t feel guilty, whereas she usually felt at least a little bad when she pulled that same stunt with Godzilla? Maybe it did, but since that type of thought wasn’t in line with her One Thing, she ignored it. 

Of course, the reminder only served to make her think of Godzilla slowly dying, alone, but probably still managing to be worried about her. Her heart ached for him, and she hurried in her search for the doctor.

She had to get to him, especially if she was the only one wouldn’t up and die doing it. The doctor seemed like a good man. Godzilla wouldn’t want him sacrificing himself like this. And—and maybe it was selfish of her, but Maddie desperately needed to feel his breath, his heartbeat, beneath her own hands. She needed to see the physical proof that he was hanging on, that he would be okay. 

She needed her dad, and she didn’t mean her human one.

It took a few, stress-filled minutes for her to find Dr. Serizawa. He was in a large room with a bunch of technology she didn’t have the slightest clue about. There was a large circular door in one of the walls that served as the entrance to a small tube-shaped room with another door, presumably leading outside. Beside the doctor was a single-person sub that the strict man had mentioned, sitting on tracks leading into the tube-room. 

The doctor didn’t notice her approach him, too busy fumbling with a heavy-looking box. He set it down beside the sub and reached inside the ship to grab a helmet. 

Maddie was on him before he could. She’d never knocked a human out before, but she’d wrestled with wolves. A human wasn’t going to be any sort of problem. She kicked at the back of his knees, knowing how much of a weak spot it was on herself. 

He pitched forward with a choked cry. She shifted with him as he fell and shoved him forward to smack his head against the metal vehicle. It rang dully as he went limp, and she was quick to twist around so he didn’t fall the rest of the way to the floor. 

If the other adults hadn’t wanted her to go, she had to assume he wouldn’t either. And she was getting very tired of all these unreasonable grown-ups thinking they knew best about topics they only scratched the surface of. 

“Sorry, mister,” Maddie said, lowering Dr. Serizawa's unconscious body to the floor as gently as she could. “But it’s stupid to let you die when I’m here.” He wasn’t bleeding, so he’d hopefully be fine. 

Turning away, Maddie crouched to pop open the box. There was a very shiny device inside with a length of numbers on it. The bomb, then. Re-securing the box, she hefted it up into her arms—odd, it wasn’t as heavy as she’d expected, given how much the doctor had been struggling with it—and spared the sub a distasteful glance as she bypassed it entirely. 

There was a panel of buttons in the tube-room. Green meant go, so she carefully shifted her grip on the box to push it. The panel asked for confirmation, so she pressed it again, and finally, the door to the rest of the big ship thudded closed. 

“So complicated,” she complained as lights flashed. “Come on,” she urged the door, bouncing on the balls of her feet. It finally opened, letting in a flood of water. 

Maddie hopped out of the tunnel, the box held firmly in her arms, and sank the short distance to the ruined stone pathway. As easily as if she was on land, Maddie ran with her burden toward the chamber where Godzilla was dying. 

She had to stop thinking like that. The anticipation, the hope, being so close but wondering if it’d be enough—it hurt. Made her feel sick to her stomach, made her eyes sting with tears.

Great thing about being underwater, though: no one could tell if you started crying.

It didn’t take long for her to reach the steps, and following those, she soon popped her head above water. It was hot up there, but she only bothered to push her hair away from her face as she kneeled on the steps and set the bomb up. 

Maddie was trembling, being so close to Godzilla after so much heartache. Never again, not if she had anything to say about it.

How long did the big ship need to get away? Maddie shrugged, pressed the number five and then the green button. This color-coding business was incredibly useful. The strip with the numbers started moving, so, confident she’d gotten it right, Maddie stood and rushed up the steps. 

Godzilla’s massive form emerged from the smoke—there was lava in here!—as she neared the top. Unbothered by either the heat or radiation, she merely ran faster once she reached the flat area he was sprawled on. 

He looked dead. If it wasn’t for the labored heaves of breath escaping him—and oh, what a relief those were—she might’ve thought he already was. And her sense of him was so weak. He was hurt. Bad. Maybe even worse than she’d thought.

The most telling sign of exactly how bad off he was was that he didn’t even notice her running at him.

Maddie slammed up against stupid Godzilla’s stupid jaw. He didn’t react, even when she pounded her fists against his scales. “Don’t you dare die, G!” she screamed. “You promised! You promised you wouldn’t leave me!” 

His head shifted at long last, and his eyes slid open lethargically. Maddie… Pup, he said, sounding deeply in pain. What are you doing here? 

“Saving you,” she snarled back, angrily rubbing at her wet cheeks. “’Cause you were stupid, but those humans were stupider, and they tried to blow you up, G.” 

Mm. They did, didn’t they?

She nodded before collapsing against him, swallowing back her sobs. If this was how he felt every time she got into trouble, then she’d apologize a million times to him once all this was over. He could ground her a hundred times over if he wanted.

I’m sorry, Pup, for worrying you. 

“I stopped being able to feel you, G. It was the worst thing I’ve ever felt in my life. Or didn't feel. You know what I mean.” Maddie hiccuped. “Also, I brought a bomb.” 

Godzilla’s eyes, which had started slipping closed again, quickly opened all the way. A bo—where did you get a bomb? 

“I stole it from the humans. They said it would help you feel better, and the doctor was gonna bring it, but the others said he would die, and I tried to tell them your radiation doesn’t hurt me, but none of them were listening, so I knocked him out and brought it myself.” 

He appeared to process this for a few seconds, and then, despite how completely exhausted he looked, he jolted into motion. With what might very well have been the last of his strength, boosted by the flood of adrenaline granted to him thanks to the news of the bomb, he pushed himself up and rolled over so his back was to the staircase, simultaneously pulling Maddie to his chest. Godzilla curled up around her, and before she had the chance to say a word, her ears popped oddly. 

A great wave of pressure swept by. Maddie, shielded at the center of the King of Titans, barely felt it. 

• • • 

The pain had been great. Unfathomable, really, and it was more than just a physical blow to him, since the last thing he’d been truly conscious of was Ghidorah’s mocking laughter as he escaped Godzilla’s claws. The bomb had been different than any he’d felt before, and the blankness that had slowly settled in place of his thoughts and senses had, admittedly, scared him. 

Godzilla had been in tough spots before—the parasites most recently, of course, but encounters with his foes dated back centuries—but never had he felt the cold touch of death like that. 

He had died. Of that, he was certain, even if he hadn’t stayed dead. 

How he made it to his temple, he would never know. Certainly, he owed his survival to no small amount of luck, and even more so to his family. The bone-deep need to return to them had given him strength to continue once before, and he had no doubt it had carried him to safety in the wake of the human’s attempt to murder him.

Before he’d lost consciousness in his temple, his last thoughts were the smug, they still can’t get it right, and the devastated, what if I sleep for so long, Maddie is dead when I return? 

Therefore, it wasn’t his fault he’d thought he was dreaming at first, when his Pup was suddenly standing before him, yelling through her own tears. The words didn’t quite make it through to his brain. She was obviously upset, and in his pained delirium, he couldn’t quite understand why. 

His entire body was both achingly heavy and entirely numb. He’d been in less pain after having an entire building collapse on him. His thoughts were sluggish and disjointed. And deep in his chest, his heart beat slow and laboriously. 

It had never taken so much effort to simply be alive. 

Nothing would be able to convince him to move, Godzilla both realized and promised to himself. If the humans were going to try and kill him again, they could deal with Ghidorah while he rested. 

He nearly went back to sleep after that thought, but then it clicked that, in order to go back to sleep, he had to first be awake, and if he was awake, then—Maddie wasn’t a figment of his imagination. 

Opening his eyes took the same amount of strength as wrestling Behemoth to the ground. He could barely speak, but for his Pup, he would try. Maddie… Pup. What are you doing here?

More words that he only half understood. She wouldn’t object to a nap, would she? It was so hot out, surely they could have a lazy day. 

Something was nagging at him, though, like an insistent poking in the back of his head. He didn’t have the will to listen to it, but the sense of something being wrong began to creep up his spine.

Pup had said something about the humans trying to blow him up, hadn’t she? It struck him as almost funny, their continuous failures to kill him. He chuckled to himself and rumbled, Mm. They did, didn’t they? No, not funny. That was a bad thing, and Maddie, if the smell of her distress was to go by, had been completely panicked about it. I’m sorry, Pup, he added, for worrying you. 

This time, when she spoke, he heard her a little more fully. “I stopped being able to feel you, G.” 

He internally winced, lacking the strength to do so physically. If she had, then Mothra likely had as well. His heart hurt—even more than it already did—at the thought of his family spending any amount of time truly believing he was dead. 

But Maddie wasn’t done yet. She sent another spike through him with, “It was the worst thing I’ve ever felt in my life. Or not felt. Stopped feeling? You know what I mean. Also, I brought a bomb.” 

Godzilla experienced, for a brief moment, an odd ringing in his ears as he processed that. 

A bomb, she’d said. A bomb. The jabs of wrong became an alarm blaring with urgency as he finally put the pieces all together. There were three things in his temple: himself, Maddie—somehow—and a bomb. 

Miraculously, his exhaustion seemed to lift. Panic was an excellent motivator. A bo—where did you get a bomb? 

“I stole it from the humans,” his troublemaking, mischievous Pup told him. When had she even been around humans? Why wasn’t she still safe at the archipelago? “They said it would help you feel better, and the doctor was gonna bring it, but the others said he would die, and I tried to tell them your radiation doesn’t hurt me, but none of them were listening, so I knocked him out and brought it myself.”

His assumption that there was nothing in the world that could convince him to move was apparently blatantly, obviously false. Godzilla flipped around, his entire body screaming with the sudden motion, simultaneously tugging Maddie against his chest as he curled himself as tightly as he could. And not a moment too soon, as only seconds later, the second blast he’d felt today tore against him.

This one, though, was reinvigorating. 

And it turned out there was one motivator more effective than panic: his parental instincts. 

It was a rush, after that. The flood of power, his strength, his very life, crashed through him even as the temple and underwater cave surrounding it blew apart and collapsed. He escaped the tunnel with ease, Maddie safe in his palm. 

He resurfaced near a long human vessel, which he had to assume was where Maddie had acquired the bomb from. He couldn’t say he was entirely pleased with them for bringing his Pup into such danger, but then again, she had admitted to stealing it. 

Water sluiced off him as he stood, the ocean roiling around his thighs. Rain beat down against him as he shook himself free of his aches and the tension wound through his muscles. His star-fire vibrated in his chest, overwhelming, like a second heartbeat. It demanded to be released, and who was he to deny the swirling energy behind his ribs?

Godzilla tasted the power on his tongue and threw his head back, feeling the charge pass through his spines as the electrifying blue beam shot into the clouds. 

He had an audience, he realized. There were people on top of the vessel, but they could wait. The moment the excess star-fire had burned away, though he could already feel it building back up, he turned his body to shield Maddie from the onlookers. When he uncurled his fingers, he could still smell the remnants of her sorrow, but she was beaming up at him as brightly as his star-fire shone. 

“You’re okay,” she said, her voice cracking. 

(He forgave her for coming after him with those two words and all the brokenness contained within them.) 

I am now, he rumbled. Are you? 

She nodded. “Just, don’t you dare do that to me again.” Maddie bit her lip and glanced away for a moment. “G, I—my family, they’re alive. I met my dad. He’s on that ship.” 

It took an oddly long moment for her words to truly make sense to him, and when they did, it was like he’d been hit with that devastating bomb all over again. Godzilla froze, a cold sensation overtaking the warmth of his reignited star-fire.

Her family—her human family—had been alive all along. And he’d kept her from them.

But there was nothing accusing or angry about the way Maddie spoke or looked at up him. In fact, he could practically feel her nerves and trepidation. For his reaction? Or something else?

That’s wonderful, he finally said, with great effort. A pit of guilt and sorrow welled up inside him. Yet, part of him, the part that cared so much to simply see his Pup happy, weakly rejoiced for her. You must be happy to have found them.

To his surprise, she made a face like she wasn’t quite sure whether or not to agree. “I dunno. Finding out was kinda too much, and I was more worried about you. And it’s…” She shrugged. “Weird. All of the humans are weird. I don’t get them like I get you and Mothra.” Maddie tilted her head back to look squarely up at him, and there was pleading there, in the downturn of her mouth, the pinch of her eyes. 

After so long of knowing his Pup and her moods, her expressions, her reactions, the muted panic in her face was plain for him to see. His instinct to protect reared up, strong and vicious as always, even though he wasn’t entirely sure of the source of her dread. 

But a shudder passed down his spine before he could decide on a response, reminding him of his responsibility as King. There was something in the air, something wrong. Ghidorah hadn’t simply targeted humanity. He was using Godzilla’s kindred against their will to carry out his malicious desire for destruction. 

His kindred, who were, at long last, awake. It should have been cause for celebration, but he could feel only fury on their behalf. 

Godzilla bared his teeth, looking out over the horizon in the direction he could feel his greatest foe. 

Maddie proved her point of knowing him when she smiled ruefully. “You’ve gotta go, right? To stop Ghidorah and stuff?”

I’m sorry, Pup. He desperately tried not to think about whether this might be their last meeting, or that he could very well lose her soon to someone other than Ghidorah. Or that he was abandoning her in a time of need, when there was clearly something wrong that she wanted his help with.

But she only shook her head. “Don’t be sorry. My problems can wait, G.” 

Will you be okay with the humans? he asked as he slowly sank into the ocean, releasing Maddie to float as he went. He ducked below the surface to scoop her up on his snout, rumbling deeply when she leaned against him in a hug. 

“Yeah.” She made no real effort to hide her gloominess. “Promise you’ll come back?” 

He huffed. Always. 

For as long as she asked, he wouldn’t leave or stay away. And if she decided to return to human life, he wouldn’t stop her. As much as his heart hurt over the very thought, Maddie’s real family deserved to have her back. He closed his eyes, savoring the moment, before finally swimming over to the human vessel. 

Stay safe, he begged her as he brought his head level with the top, where the other humans stood, soaking and in shock. 

Maddie snorted and leapt the short distance to the metal railing, grabbing it and swinging around so her back was pressed to it, her hands gripping it behind her. “Always,” she told him, visibly biting back a giggle. 

Little liar, he muttered. For a brief moment, he looked beyond her, eyeing the small group of adults. There were several men among them. Perhaps one was Maddie’s father. They all remained still, gaping in silence up at him. 

Godzilla wrinkled his nose and grunted at them before turning to dive beneath the waves. He had a long way to travel, after all. The last thing he heard before submerging fully was Maddie’s laughter, echoing brightly in his head long after he’d returned to the depths.

Chapter Text

On the monitors, Emma watched the flash of light slowly recede. Monster Zero shot out of the ocean with a triumphant shriek only a few moments later. When Godzilla didn’t follow, she and Jonah shared a look. 

The King was dead. 

As new, unpredicted chaos began to spread across the world, a commotion behind her stole Emma’s attention away from the bank of screens. One of Jonah’s men stepped up beside her to give her a grim nod before walking away. Mission accomplished. 

Emma turned around. Just a few feet behind her, struggling between two other men, was her son. Andrew—hands bound behind his back, pale from what looked like a hit to the head, and bearing a strip of black tape across his mouth—glared at her. Two thin, flaky lines of dried blood stained the right side of his face. 

She smiled. 

• • •

Andrew paced back and forth in the small space his room afforded him. The door was locked from the outside. Other than the bed against the wall, the room was barren. There was nothing to use as a weapon, unless he counted the pillow. Somehow, he doubted the armed terrorists would be all that intimidated by threats of a pillow fight. 

In the midst of this whole mess his mom had helped create, he never would’ve expected to have any sort of importance in her schemes. But no, he’d been attacked—at a Monarch base, no less—and his attempts at fighting back had only resulted in a throbbing headache. When he regained consciousness, he was bound and gagged in the back of a truck bouncing along what had to be a dirt road.

From there, without so much as a word of explanation, he’d been dragged through dingy concrete halls into a bustling room. With his mom in it. 

He collapsed on the squeaky bed and buried his face in his trembling hands. The way she’d smiled at the sight of him… he couldn’t get her expression out of his head. 

Fighting against the tears welling up in his eyes, Andrew sucked in a shaky breath, trying not to think of how scared of his own mom he was. Any hope of acting strong and defiant had fizzled out pretty quick. 

Was she even really his mom anymore? Did he want to call a murderer Mom? There were people dead because of her, because of what she did on purpose, and if she felt guilty for her actions, she certainly wasn’t showing it. And now, even more people were dying because she’d woken up a Titan that sure seemed hellbent on destroying the world. 

She’d explained at least some of her plan when she’d first brought him in here, but he’d been too distracted by the terror coursing through him to really pay attention. One thing she’d said had stood out to him, though, ringing in his ears even now, what had to be over an hour later. 

“I did it to protect you, Andrew. You’ll be safe here.” 

If it hadn’t been for the tape over his mouth, he’d have said he’d rather take his chances with the Titans out there than with the gun-toting terrorists in here. 

A sick tangle of guilt remained heavy in his chest. It felt like he was at least partially to blame for his mom going crazy, even if he hadn’t done anything to make her lose it. But because he was her only child left, suddenly it was worth it to destroy the world? His mom wanted the apocalypse to happen on her terms, because of some blank slate, control-freak nonsense? 

More than anything, he’d wanted to ask, “What would Maddie think?” 

She’d be horrified, he just knew she would. In a way, Andrew was almost grateful she wasn’t here to see what their mom had become. He could only imagine the heartbreak if she had seen what Mom had intentionally done. 

But part of him wished Maddie was here, with him—and didn’t that make him feel like an awful brother, wanting his sister to have been kidnapped by a couple of psychopaths. Because, while he had no idea exactly what she would’ve been like at twelve, he remembered her at seven. Maybe his memories were rose-tinted and fuzzy from time passing, but Maddie had always seemed strong to him. 

She’d make him feel better just by being with him, he was sure. And they could figure a way out of this together. 

Andrew tipped backwards to fall heavily onto the bed. He stared at the ceiling for a long minute before taking a deep breath. 

Dad had to be worried out of his mind right now, assuming someone had told him what happened. Or maybe he didn’t even know. He tapped a nonsense pattern against his stomach, internally debating which he would prefer. His dad was stressed enough right now without throwing a “my ex-wife had her terrorist friends kidnap my son” situation into the mix. But on the other hand, call him a big baby, but he really, really wanted his dad to come rescue him. 

It was probably a stupid thought. No way would he be allowed to, even if they knew where he was. Which they didn’t. 

As his frustration and anxiety and fear rose, he reached for the pendant on the end of his necklace. It was an automatic move, one he’d had months to develop into a habit. Almost a year ago, he and Dad had been going through some old stuff, and in one of the boxes was a necklace Maddie had made for him at school. He’d taken the pendant off and put it on a sturdier, longer chain. Every day, he put it on and found comfort in rubbing the smooth surface.

He passed his thumb over the pendant before lifting it higher so he could look at it. It was basically a pocket watch with a glass front. Prior to the art project, it'd been empty inside. Now, it was full and sealed shut. 

His eyes traced over the decorations his sister had chosen to add. There were a couple red beads, one with a golden “A” stamped on it; a tiny part of a ticket stub from a baseball game; inexplicably, a small sea shell; a torn piece of lined paper with “doofus” written on it; and a light sprinkling of glitter on top of it all, with a picture glued down to serve as a backdrop. It was an image of him and Maddie, their cheeks squished together, beaming smiles on both their faces, half-hidden behind all the other bits and pieces. 

When he’d first pulled it out of the box, he’d just about burst into tears. Some things rendered her loss as fresh as the day they’d buried her—metaphorically, since they never found her body—and finding an old forgotten gift had been one of them. 

There hadn’t been a day since where it didn’t hang in its place of honor on his chest, as close as it could get to resting over his heart. Maybe it was sappy of him, but he couldn’t have cared less. He was allowed to be sappy and sentimental about his dead little sister. 

What wasn’t allowed was going apocalyptic psycho, like Mom. Someone should really remind her about that. Funny enough, Maddie probably would’ve without hesitation. 

• • •

Maddie waited until Godzilla had vanished beneath the surface to climb over the railing. By then, some of the humans were coming closer, her dad among them. He didn’t seem able to speak at first, too shocked or maybe angry to form words. 

Miss Vivienne let him stutter for all of a few seconds before asking, “What happened, Maddie? Where did—how—is Dr. Serizawa—” 

“He’s fine,” she answered. “I think. He’s in the room with the tiny sub, unless someone found him already.” 

“Found him?” her dad choked out. 

“Well, I didn’t think he’d just let me have the bomb.” 

Miss Vivienne took a step back and started to turn, only to pause and face Maddie again. Gripping her shoulders, all teary-eyed, she quietly said, “Thank you, Maddie.” She rushed off with some of the uniformed men without waiting for a response. 

“So, what?” the white-haired man asked. “You went out there with literally nothing to protect you? And you’re just,” he gestured disbelievingly at her, “perfectly fine?” 

“I did tell you,” Maddie reminded him. 

A crazy sort of smile spread across the man’s face and, slapping a hand to his forehead, he reeled backward, muttering to himself. 

Miss Ilene watched him for a moment before offering Maddie a small smile, eyes dancing. “You’ve broken him.” Her tone of voice implied this was not a bad thing. 

Before the conversation could go any further, a loud rumbling—the mechanical sort—approached from overhead. A small army of aircraft, with a positively enormous ship in the center, the likes of which Maddie had never seen before, descended from the clouds overhead. 

Peering up through the rain, the small group watched as it came to hover just over the sub. Personally, Maddie would’ve preferred Mothra arriving, but she likely had a ways to travel from the original dive location. 

They sent a very strange looking helicopter down to pick them up. After a whispered conversation, it was decided Miss Vivienne and Dr. Serizawa would catch a different ride back to the mainland. 

The mainland. Maddie hadn’t set foot on any land outside the archipelago in five years. Nerves churned in her stomach at the thought. There’d already been so many people in that single room in the sub. Faint memories of crowded streets, loud streets, filled her mind. Part of her hoped they weren’t entirely accurate. 

Miss Ilene got distracted by her phone while they left the helicopter. Maddie absently followed along behind the three adults. Her dad still seemed too… something, for words. His eyes were a little glazed over, and she was admittedly a little worried about him. 

“Ling says they’re nearly ready to activate the new ORCA,” Miss Ilene told them. “They’re waiting for Boston to be nearly entirely evacuated before setting it off. Rick, will you get them an updated location for Godzilla and Ghidorah?” 

They white-haired man—Rick! Finally, she knew his name!—nodded. “Yeah, no problem. Why’d they choose Boston anyhow?” 

Boston. That—she had lived there once, she was pretty sure. It was one of those big cities, full of people and big buildings and cars. 

With a sigh, Miss Ilene tucked her phone away. “I wasn’t part of the group who made that decision, so I wouldn’t know. I’m sure they have their reasons.” 

When no one continued the conversation, Maddie hesitantly asked, “Isn’t an orca a type of whale?”

Finally, her dad seemed to snap out of his daze. “Yes, but it’s also the name of—a device that we can use to—” he appeared to test different words out before deciding on— “communicate with Titans.” 

They left the giant room they’d landed in and entered the dark hallways of the big ship. People bustled past them. None of them noticed a trio of men loitering against the wall. They casually entered the flow and followed the group.

“The goal is to use it to draw Ghidorah in,” Mr. Rick explained. “Distract him from flooding D.C. maybe, but also so Godzilla can get to him. The city’s right off the ocean.” 

Their plan made sense, Maddie supposed, and it was nice of them to try and bring Ghidorah right to Godzilla. Something about her dad’s explanation of this ORCA was rubbing her the wrong way, though. 

Before she could ask more about it, a woman Maddie didn’t recognize ran up to them at an intersection. “Dr. Russell,” she said, breathing heavily. Her eyes were wide, and even Maddie could recognize human panic. “Can I borrow you for a moment? We—something’s happened.” 

Her dad’s mouth went tight. “Of course,” he said to her before looking at Miss Ilene and Mr. Rick. “I’ll meet you guys in the control room,” and to Maddie, “Go wait with them, okay? I’ll be right there.”  

The adults all nodded at each other and rushed off, and Maddie hesitated, watching her dad hurry away in one direction while Miss Ilene and Mr. Rick went in another. For a brief moment, that stretch of hallway was nearly empty. Dangerously empty.

What Mark didn’t know: even as he unknowingly went off to be told about his son’s kidnapping, his daughter, just a few hallways away, was grabbed from behind. A needle was shoved in her neck by one man, and two others caught her before she could collapse, unconscious. 

The trio retreated back to the hangar, knocked-out cargo in tow, where a fourth was already waiting in an Osprey. Unfortunately, word of Maddie had spread quickly through Monarch.

• • •

What no one knew: simple human sedatives stood no chance against a body touched by a Titan’s radiation.  

• • • 

Maddie was unconscious for less than ten minutes before she began to wake up. It felt like her whole body was experiencing the dreaded pins and needles. Whatever she was laying on was vibrating, but not like Godzilla. Like a machine. The big ship they’d boarded after Godzilla’s departure hadn’t felt or sounded like this.

She struggled for a minute to pry her eyes open. When she finally succeeded, she found herself blearily staring at a dark metal ceiling. There was a row of seats in her peripheral vision, attached to the nearby wall. Turning her head slightly, she realized she was on the floor of some vehicle or another—an aircraft, probably, since she doubted she’d been asleep long enough to not be over the ocean anymore. 

Her arms were trapped in front of her, taped at the wrists. As her senses sharpened with increasing clarity, she picked up a few different voices from the front of the aircraft. 

“We’ll figure out the tests later,” one said. “With scales like that… and they’re saying she took the nuke, y’know.” 

“I’ve never seen anything like it. People pay for Titan parts, yeah? Think she’ll count?” 

“Put out some feelers. There’s a market for everything,” a third answered. “I’m more interested in the radiation’s effects.” 

She ignored the rest of their conversation, having heard enough. 

Instead of being afraid, Maddie’s heart beat loud and fast with anger and annoyance. The last thing she remembered came back in a rush: being grabbed from behind, a sharp sting in her neck, and falling asleep against her will. 

She’d been kidnapped, stolen away—and now, of all times? When she had two different families to be worried about, when there was so much at stake? 

Oh, she’d make them regret taking her like this. 

A laugh, followed by a groan, snuck through her haze of fury. “I’m gonna stretch my legs,” one of the men said. “And I’ll check on the kid while I’m up.”

“Eh, why bother? The drugs’ll keep her under for at least another hour or two.” 

There was murmured agreement, but Maddie heard footsteps thudding against the metal, coming in her direction. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and relaxed. Make them let their guard down. 

Patience, stillness, and the ability to burst into quick, controlled action were all lessons she’d long since learned. Spear fishing was about more than just aim, though she’d gotten really good at that too.

The footsteps grew louder, and she could feel her instincts kick into gear when his eyes landed on her. Maddie knew when she was being watched. She lay in wait, ready to strike no matter how relaxed her muscles were. 

The man stopped. 

Keeping her eyes as closed as possible, she cautiously peeked to see what he was doing. It had sounded like he’d paused right next to her, and she saw that he was standing about in line with her hip. Perfect. 

In one smooth move, Maddie pulled her legs in, rocking back on her shoulders so her whole body could coil up like a tightened spring, knees nearly at her chest. Before the man could even hope to react, Maddie snapped her feet at his stomach with a growl. 

She’d hoped to simply push him away. Instead, it was like he’d been caught in the torso with a wrecking ball: air whooshed out of his slack mouth as his feet left the ground, his body folding around her point of contact, and at the peak of her push, he went sailing backward as if he weighed nothing. With a terrible thud, he collided with the wall, head bouncing against the metal, and crumpled limply over the seats on that side. 

He never even had a chance to scream. 

There was a call of confusion from the front of the aircraft, but Maddie focused on pushing herself up. A moment later, a second man appeared from the front of the aircraft, surprise widening his eyes as he stared at the collapsed body of his companion. Maddie finished getting to her feet, only feeling a tiny bit unsteady, and bared her teeth at him. 

“Don’t get any ideas, kid,” he said, holding one hand up in front of him. The other disappeared behind his back. Did he think she was stupid? “Let’s not do this the hard way.” 

“You stole me!” Maddie snarled. His eyes flicked down to her bound hands. He smiled meanly, like she was a little kid who didn’t know anything. Like he was better just because he thought he had the upper hand. Rage built up inside her, and with a grunt, she yanked her hands apart, snapping the tape in two. 

She set her feet in steady defensive stance and casually peeled away the remains. Her wrists were red beneath the strips, and she distantly hoped for their sakes that the marks went away before Godzilla saw them. 

The man’s face did something weird, expressed some emotion she couldn’t quite recognize. “How did—” he started to say, before he silenced himself and lunged, his hidden hand coming into view. He held a small black box with two silver spikes on one end, and though she didn’t know what it was or what it did, the way he tried to jab her with it was telling.

It was nothing good. Maybe it would even knock her out again. Whatever it was, she dodged his sloppy attack and struck at his nose. Hopefully, he would drop it in his shock.

He did, in time with a concerning crack and a burst of blood. His head snapped back as he howled, bringing both hands up to his face as he stumbled away. Two other voices shouted from the front, which meant there were at least four, and one hadn’t been talking earlier, but she didn’t pay attention to what they were saying.

Instead, she went to the back of the aircraft, hoping to find a door or something. She started jabbing at buttons, and to her luck, something moved. The entire back of the aircraft started to open downward, revealing a sliver of sky at the top that grew with every second.

“She broke my nose!” a thick voice cried from behind her, quickly followed by approaching footsteps. 

Someone got their arms around her before Maddie could turn around, one at her neck, the other at her stomach. He grunted when she tried to kick at his legs but didn’t let go. 

Fine, she thought. If he wanted to play dirty…

Using both hands, she yanked his arm away from her throat, tilted her chin down, and bit. 

Her captor shrieked above her head and tried to yank himself away. Pissed beyond rational thought, though, Maddie only clenched her jaw tighter into the flesh right next to the inside of his elbow. 

She’d had blood that wasn’t her own in her mouth before. It’d taken quite a bit of trial and error when it came to cooking some squirrel-ish animal, and the wolves were generous with their kills. Sometimes, that first bite just was a little too juicy. 

It hadn’t been like this, though. Her nose wrinkled at the overly metallic taste, unintentionally shifting her teeth and making the man try harder to shove her away. Hoping he’d gotten the message, she unlocked her jaw and ripped herself free, making even more of a mess. 

“Don’t touch me,” she growled as he fell backward. Hoping hers were at least half as gruesome as Godzilla’s bloody teeth, Maddie bared them first at the man blubbering on the ground, then at the one with the broken nose, crouched on the opposite side of the seating area. 

The ramp thudded into place and stopped moving behind her. They were pretty high up, she saw, turning so the kidnappers weren’t completely out of her sight, and she examined the distance to the ocean with a critical eye. Could she make it? 

Maddie wouldn’t have to find out. A distant screech drew her gaze up from the water to the horizon. She grinned. 

Mothra’s wings beat fast and heavy, drawing her closer at an incredible speed. Whoever was still flying the aircraft was shouting, but none of her attackers responded as Maddie gripped the edge of the doorway and leaned out.

“Hey!” Maddie shouted, waving. “Fancy meeting you here!”

She swooped lower so she was coming up from below the aircraft. Maddie! Are you all right? 

“Meh. I’m fine. How’d you find me?”

You are just like Godzilla, Mothra called, landing somewhere between serious and teasing. I simply knew you were in trouble, so I came as fast as I could. 

“It wasn’t my fault this time, honest!” After glancing dismissively at the still-frozen men, she scooted forward onto the top of the ramp. “Can I jump down to you?”

Of course! 

Maddie waited for Mothra to settle into a steady glide just below the exit and a little bit behind the aircraft, probably to avoid knocking into it with her wings. The man whose nose she’d broken clambered to his feet, though she didn’t pay him much attention. She absently registered pounding footsteps behind her, grunting, the rustle of someone else standing up. Out of her sight, a hand stretched forward, fingers ready to take hold of her shirt.

Maddie felt the barest brush against her back as she lunged forward, planted one foot on the slanted metal, and pushed off. The feeling slipped away.

For a long second, she hung in the air between machine and Titan, so very high above the ocean.

With a light oomph, she landed easily on Mothra’s back, relief flooding through her. She whooped in victory and turned around so she was facing forward. The metallic tinge on her tongue lingered, and she reveled in her triumph. Near-hysterical laughter spilled out of her, leaving her breathless. 

Once Maddie was safe and secure on her back, she felt Mothra turn her focus back on the helicopter. The two men, motionless at the top of the ramp, gaped down at her. Their mouths moved, but the words were lost beneath the wind and rumbling of the aircraft—which she could now see was the same weird sort of helicopter as the one that’d taken her and the adults up to the big aircraft. 

Maddie startled faintly at Mothra’s voice, cold and flat as it was. You were not with them willingly, she stated. 

Even though it wasn’t a question at all, Maddie said, “Yeah,” drawing the word out in her confusion. “They stuck a needle in me and made me fall asleep. I woke up in there.” 

They took you. 

“Uh huh. I—they said something about doing tests. On me, I think.” She shivered. Now that her adrenaline was draining away, taking her anger with it, the full implications of that hit her. What a terrifying thought.

They would have hurt you. 

“Mothra? Are you—” Maddie didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence, because with a furious screech, Mothra shot higher into the air and fired a tangle of silk at the helicopter’s whirling blades. 

The motor made a grinding sound as the whole thing stuttered and strained against the web surrounding it. With a jerk, the helicopter faltered, tilted, and began to spiral downwards. 

Maddie’s jaw dropped open in sheer surprise, and she watched, wide-eyed, as the aircraft started smoking. With a great splash, it struck the water’s surface, skidded slightly, and bobbed sideways as it began to sink.

After calmly observing the disabled helicopter plummet into the ocean, Mothra turned and set a steady pace away from the scene, nearly purring in satisfaction. 

“You’re worse than G with the monster sharks,” Maddie said after a minute. She wondered if her kidnappers had survived the crash. As awful as it sounded, she almost hoped they didn’t, because if Godzilla found out about what happened, and they were still around? There was no universe where that wouldn’t end badly for them. 

You are my child, Mothra responded simply.

Titans, Maddie had long ago realized, were not only capable of extreme overprotectiveness but had a very different idea of danger and how to deal with it than humans. Wolves want to wrestle with her? Perfectly fine. A group of creepy men steal her? Apparently a crime worthy of death. 

In some ways, it was shocking. In others, it made a lot of sense. Maybe some part of her just hadn’t expected Mothra to react in such a Godzilla way to a threat against Maddie.

Resolving not to think about it—at least, not now, if ever—Maddie scooted forward a bit and launched into a retelling of everything Mothra had missed since their initial arrival at the human base.

• • •

It seemed like no time at all before the go-ahead came through to Sam and Ling. “Boston is nearly finished evacuating. Is the ORCA ready?” 

“As ready as it can be,” Sam said. “Are you sure Boston is the right place for this?” 

“It’s too late to change it now. We wouldn’t have time to get everyone out.” 

Hesitant, Sam looked over at Ling, who smiled grimly at him. “There is nothing more we can do,” she commiserated. “We are bringing Ghidorah to Godzilla. We must hope it will be enough.” 

He nodded slowly and took a deep breath before activating the program and adjusting the alpha call. 

Many miles away, all throughout Boston, a loud, warbling ping echoed through the empty streets in a slow, steady pattern. It was like a siren. An alarm. A summons.

And it did not go unnoticed. 

• • • 

She had just finished her shortened explanation—about her human father and the silly humans and the bomb in Godzilla’s temple—when Mothra drew up short with a pained shriek.

Maddie, who hadn’t been expecting the sudden stop, nearly tumbled off Mothra’s back. She yelped and re-secured her grip. “What happened?” she asked, trying to will her heart to calm down again. 

There is—a noise. It almost sounds like one of us, but it’s… warped. Wrong. She writhed in place, wings keeping herself hovering. It hurts, in a way, to listen to it. 

The conversation she’d overheard came back to her. “Wait. Would you say it’s like if humans tried to find a way to use your guys’ language?” 

That, Mothra winced, would be accurate, I believe. It is truly awful. Being closer… if I am slightly dizzy at this distance, I cannot imagine being in the immediate vicinity of whatever’s making such a racket. 

“It—it must be that thing they were talking about. They want to try luring Ghidorah somewhere with it. Boston!” Maddie leaned up, staring out over the endless ocean. Her gut was speaking to her again, and some puzzle pieces were beginning to form a terrifying picture in her head. “I’m sorry, Mothra, but can you find where it’s coming from?” 

They immediately took off faster, soaring over the shining waves. Flattening herself close to Mothra’s body, Maddie turned her face away from the rushing wind. 

You’re thinking that if it succeeds in drawing Ghidorah in, then that’s where Godzilla will be. In which case, it should be the last place I should take you. 

“If we’re going with what G wants, then yeah. But I notice you’re still going in that direction.” 

There was a long pause before Mothra’s body heaved slightly, probably from an unheard sigh. You were right about Godzilla needing help earlier. I cannot predict, nor even imagine, what the humans intend to do next. And so long as that wretched wail continues, I don’t imagine anything good coming from it. I want you safe as much as he does, Maddie, but there are some things we Titans simply cannot do. If you believe we need to find the source of the call, I will take you there.

Maddie let her eyes slip shut in relief. “Thanks for not trying to fight me on this, Mothra. I don’t want to make G worried, honest, but—if I understand what they were talking about, with these devices…” She took a deep breath. “It sounded like a way to control you guys. And if that’s what’s really happening, if the noise starts making you act in certain ways…” 

It’s unlikely we’ll be able to stop it, Mothra finished for her. Despite the roar of the wind in her ears, Maddie could hear how grave her tone was. 

“I’m human,” she said, feeling like she was almost reminding herself of that. “I have to at least try to stop it.” 

They settled into a grim silence. All Maddie could think about was if she failed. If she couldn’t shut the device off or destroy it, if she couldn’t keep it from hurting Godzilla. Would it mess with him enough to get him killed? 

Quietly, she eventually said, “I refuse to go and hide somewhere when I might be able to help. G’s just gonna have to deal with that.” 

Mothra hummed in unmistakable agreement before saying, Well. At least I can say I tried to dissuade you should Godzilla ask. 

Shaking herself out of her dark thoughts, Maddie laughed. “That’s the spirit, Mothra!”

Chapter Text

“Is there any way for us to cut theirs off?” Jonah asked. 

One of the techs at the table shook his head. “There’s no way for us to access it, or even shut down the speakers they’re using.” 

“We could try to overpower it,” Emma muttered, tapping her fingers on the ORCA’s casing. “There’s no way to predict what two ORCA signals will do, though.” 

Jonah hummed contemplatively, turning to look at the screens. Beyond the bunker, Boston sat empty, the evacuation having long since finished. No Titans had arrived yet, but it wouldn’t be like that for long. 

Emma spared a glance at the other screens. The signal wasn’t just working to summon Monster Zero. It had put a halt on the other Titans’ rampaging. News reporters were already tentatively wondering if the worst was over. 

She watched Jonah turn back to her. “Prepare to broadcast a signal once we see activity in Boston,” he decided. “And make it conflict with Monarch’s as much as possible.” 

At the very least, Emma thought as she fiddled with the controls, it would be very interesting to see how the Titans would react. 

• • • 

Andrew stood warily from the bed when he heard the door to his room unlock. Only his mom entered when it creaked open, and he wasn’t sure whether that was a good or bad thing. 

He refused to be the first to speak, not when she’d had him kidnapped. He also waited until she’d taken a seat at the end of the bed before he sat back down, as far from her as possible. It’d been years since he’d seen Mom in person, and Andrew wondered how long the insanity had been so visible in her eyes. 

She didn’t look like his mom anymore. She looked like one of them, like just another one of the terrorists armed to the teeth, inhabiting the bunker he was imprisoned in. 

She even had a holster on her hip, with the butt of a gun poking out. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked after a prolonged silence, which she spent taking him in. Andrew could never in his life remember a time when he’d felt so uncomfortable, simply sitting in the same room as his own mother. 

“My head hurts,” he answered simply. 

A sympathetic look—one that sickened him to his stomach—crossed her face. “I’ll have someone bring you painkillers with your next meal.” 

How does that not sound wrong to you, he wondered. ‘Your next meal.’ You’re not even pretending like this is anything other than what it is. Me, being kept here against my will. 

He held his tongue. 

Mom didn’t let the silence last as long this time. “I’m sure you must have questions. I can answer them for you, sweetheart.” 

There were a lot of things he wanted to ask, and a lot of them might get him into trouble. With a gun on her person, it felt like he was trying to guess how a stranger might react to his biting, sarcastic comments. 

Andrew picked a safe one to start with. “Why did you have me kidnapped?” 

“Why?” she repeated. Smiling gently, his mom shook her head. “So you’ll be safe, Andrew. Our next step… we’re going to create a new world. A better one. And to do that, well. From the ashes…” 

Stomach churning, Andrew briefly worried he would throw up. This couldn’t be the same person who’d raised him, loved him, bandaged his scrapes and kissed his bruises. This couldn’t be the same person who once gently told him that violence was rarely the answer. 

He wasn’t sure what emotions his mom thought she was seeing in his face, but she leaned closer and extended a hand, placing it on the bed between them. Andrew made no move to meet her halfway.

In a sweetly reassuring tone, she told him, “I know this is a lot, and so quickly, too. But you’ll understand soon. And you are safe here, Andrew. I promise. You’ll be safe forever."

“I have never felt less safe than I do now.” 

She sighed, as if disappointed in him.  

Something—a weird, complicated, painful mixture of anger and grief and horror and disbelief, and whatever you called the tragic please-let-this-be-a-nightmare feeling—bloomed in his chest, and he couldn’t help himself. Because no, Mom didn’t get to be disappointed that he didn’t see eye-to-eye with her murderous, terrorist ways. 

He straightened up and squared his shoulders, and dared himself to look her in the eye. Without giving her a chance to preach at him, he spat out, “You’re wrong. I’ll never understand. And I don’t ever want to. What this is—can you honestly not see what a horrible thing you’re doing? You’re killing people, Mom! You—and you don’t even care!” 

“Andrew, it’s more complicated than that. The world is suffering, and the attack five years ago is just one piece of evidence. Things will be better, and you won’t have to worry about the Titans anymore.” 

Trying to keep from yelling, he evenly told her, “I’ve never been worried about the Titans. Why would I have been? Up until you started meddling, almost all of them were asleep.”

“What happened to Maddie won’t ever—”

And just like that, it clicked. 

Andrew shot to his feet and found himself backed against the wall before he’d even really thought to move. “You… you’re treating me like a substitute for Maddie. Like a do-over. You couldn’t save her, so you’ve gone and, and recreated the circumstances to what? Prove to yourself that this time, it’ll be different? I hate to break it to you, Mom, but it doesn’t work like that. Maddie’s still gone, and I—” He almost stopped there, almost chickened out from delivering one last, fatal blow. But he needed her to understand. He needed her to know that she hadn’t solved anything. She’d just made it worse. “…and I want nothing to do with you.” 

She didn’t yell. She didn’t draw her gun. She didn’t storm from the room in a rage. She didn’t strike out at him. She didn’t do any of the things he’d been worried about. In fact, she barely reacted at all. 

His mom stared for a long minute in silence, his words hanging between them, before her shoulders slumped inward. It startled him, the way her entire being seemed to suddenly wilt, making her appear older than he knew she was. 

Andrew remember the intense depression she’d experienced after Maddie’s death, the complete disconnect from the world. The distant, hazy look in her eyes. And for the first time, rather guiltily, he wondered if she’d ever really gotten better. 

“You can’t control me, Mom. I don’t respond to the ORCA. I… I’m scared. You’ve scared me.” 

She flinched, then, minutely and with a pinched expression of sadness. 

“You would choose to leave?” she asked quietly. “Even knowing what we have planned?” She looked up at him, and there was a terrible emptiness in her face. 

“You wouldn’t stop? Not even for me?” It didn’t surprise him—it didn’t even particularly hurt to know—but he suddenly needed to hear the answer. The confirmation that his mother was beyond saving. 

“I wouldn’t stop for anything,” she muttered, staring past him. “Not now, when we’ve come so far.” 

“Not even for Maddie?” he asked. “You can’t—please tell me you don’t think she would thank you for all this.” 

“Maddie…” Mom closed her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. Maddie is dead.” 

And really, that was answer enough.

• • •

She let him go. 

• • •

Andrew tried not to panic as he ran through the streets. The Titans were stumbling around, thanks to the two ORCAs’ awful wailing, but despite their lack of coordination—or perhaps because of it—the city was still falling apart. If he wasn’t careful, it’d be too easy to end up hurt, or worse, dead. 

Through the rain, he watched Monster Zero shoot upwards, all wobbly, as Godzilla brought down another skyscraper. If ever a bunch of Titans could look drunk, that was now. 

He should’ve gone the other way, he berated himself. What had possessed him to run toward the madness instead of away from it? Surely, there was a phone he could’ve found somewhere, away from the fires and stomping feet, and he could’ve called Dad instead of hoping to be seen by a Monarch aircraft. 

It’d been an impulsive gut decision, and it’d been an awful one, clearly. Technically, it wasn’t too late for him to get the hell outta dodge and set a more purposeful route in a helpful direction. One where he wasn’t in danger of being killed every other second. 

Groaning his displeasure, he looked over his shoulder as he ran, double-checking that he wasn’t about to be flattened by an errant car or foot. Naturally, in the two seconds where he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going, he managed to crash full-tilt into probably the only other human dumb enough to be in the middle of the battlefield. 

The other person had clearly rounded the corner at their own fast pace, right as he careened down the sidewalk, and as a result, they both went tumbling to the ashy ground with surprised, pained yelps. 

Andrew took a second to bleakly stare up at the storm clouds, blinking rainwater out of his eyes, before forcing himself to sit up. He ached faintly from the fall, his palms a little scratched up and his hip pulsing with the promise of a bruise. By some luck, he hadn’t banged his head or twisted an ankle. 

It probably would’ve been worse, he realized as he looked over at the other victim of their head-on collision, if they’d been an adult. Pushing herself up onto her hands and knees, a girl who looked a couple years younger than him shook her head and huffed. 

“I thought everyone was gone,” she muttered, sitting back on her heels. Past the dark hair sticking to her face, there was a faint trail of blood beneath her nose. 

“Sorry about that,” Andrew said, “I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He got to his feet and briefly contemplated taking off with a quick farewell. This was neither the time nor the place to have a conversation, but he found himself intrigued enough to linger. 

“I don’t think looking would’ve helped much,” she snorted, wiping away the blood. “We were both going real fast there.” 

Unable to stop himself, he laughed. She seemed completely unconcerned about the crazy fight going on a couple dozen blocks or so away. Offering his hand to help her up, Andrew asked, “What are you doing here? Did you miss the evacuation?” 

“No.” Her palm felt odd against his, but her grip was strong. Funny enough, Andrew didn’t feel like he actually contributed much assistance to get her standing again. “I’m… looking for something. Is there someplace around here I can make my voice really loud? Like, louder than that stupid ORCA stuff?” 

Now that he was face-to-face with her, a sense of familiarity swept over him. He knew her from somewhere… 

But that wasn’t the only thing he was worried about—and he didn’t mean the blue freckles on her cheeks that appeared to be glowing. “You know about the ORCA?” 

The girl made a dismissive sound. “Just that it’s hurting them.” She gestured at the Titans in the distance. “G—Godzilla, I mean—can’t fight like that. And Ghidorah’s handling it better, so I’ve gotta help him.” 

“Help… Godzilla…?” 

Crossing her arms over her chest, she rolled her eyes. Which were also vibrantly blue and bright. Her wrists, he saw, seemed to be dotted with what sure looked like scales. “I don’t have time for this. Can you help me or…” She trailed off, going still. 

It took Andrew a second, but he realized she’d spotted his pocket-watch pendant. At the same exact moment, her exasperated posture and overall appearance finally clicked in his head. Considering the conclusion he came to wasn’t—shouldn’t have been—an option, he forgave himself for taking as long as he had to make the connection.

“Maddie?” he asked quietly. An explosion rang out off to his right, but the rest of the world might as well have gone silent. 

She stepped closer and hesitantly reached out to press a single finger against the pendant she’d made years—a lifetime—ago. “Andrew?” Her eyes finally raised to his. 

They stood there for an eternal second, silent with realization and epiphany and grief and joy, shared between them like a living thing, so evident in the tears gathering in their eyes. Unmoving, frozen, a pair of statues connected by the smallest touch, as if the slightest word or shift would tear it all away like nothing more than a wistful dream.

One of the Titans roared particularly loudly, and the fragile moment broke. But neither woke up or vanished or realized they had the wrong person. 

Andrew let out a wordless cry and scooped his little sister up into his arms, having quite the height advantage. She shrieked, but the sound was also laughter of the greatest heart-stopping relief, and her arms came up to wind tight around his shoulders, her face buried in his neck. 

Her legs swung, banging against his own, as he half-twirled, half-bounced around the empty intersection in the rain, holding the sister he’d lost long ago. “It’s you, it’s you, it’s you!” he cried. He didn’t think he’d ever been as happy in his life as he was right then, soaking wet, fresh out of being kidnapped by his insane, murderous mother, and lost in the middle of a city slowly being demolished by the biggest creatures he’d ever seen. 

Heaven truly was only two steps from hell, and those two steps had been taken at a run toward a head-on collision. 

“It’s me!” she echoed. “And it’s you! Andrew, Andrew! What are you even doing here?” 

“Long story, tell you later!” He laughed, even as he internally cringed away from the thought. Maddie couldn’t possibly know who was behind all this. “Holy—there’ll be a later! We have later!” 

Unnatural lightning surged through the sky, forcibly reminding him that for there to be a later, they kinda had to survive the now first. 

Setting Maddie back down, Andrew wildly looked around. “We have to get out of here before something happens.” 

Again. Again, because this—this was exactly how Maddie had died-but-apparently-not five years ago, in a city where Titans were duking it out. Panic overcame him, and he went to start running again, hand secured around Maddie’s wrist. “C’mon!” 

He might as well have been trying to pull a car behind him for the sheer, immovable resistance he was immediately met with. Andrew jerked to a stop and almost rebounded backward, like they did in cartoons. 

Maddie looked pained and apologetic when she gently removed her wrist from his grasp. “I can’t leave yet, Andrew. I gotta help G first.” 

She’d said that, hadn’t she. Something about being louder than the ORCAs. “But… why?” 

With a single huffed laugh, Maddie smiled ruefully. “Long story, tell you later?” 

With a shuddery sigh, Andrew forced himself to nod. He might not understand why she needed to stay and he definitely didn’t like it, but he got the feeling there was nothing he could do or say to stop her. Plan B, then. “I’ll stay with you.” 

“No,” she immediately countered. “You—I don’t know if my plan will work, or how well it will work, so you need to go find Dad and get him to tell his friends to shut the ORCA off.” 

“But—”

“I’ll be fine, Andrew,” She grinned. “I’m tougher than I look, y’know.” 

Biting his lip to keep from crying, which he was seriously in danger of, Andrew took a deep breath. “Promise you’ll come back.” 

She raised her hand and swiped an x-shape over her chest. “Cross my heart.” Her gaze fell back to the pendant, and she shook her head. “I can’t believe you still have that.” 

“I wear it every day,” he told her. Struck with an idea, he pulled the long chain over his head and stepped forward to slide it down over Maddie’s. “So you make sure to bring it back, okay? It’s my lucky charm.” 

Maddie held it in her palm and rubbed her thumb over its surface, just like he often did. Moving quickly, she resettled it on her chest and pulled up her shirt at the bottom, revealing a makeshift belt—made of strands of vine, by the looks of it. Weird. Off to the side, hanging barely an inch down in a woven cradle, was a small rock. Ripping apart the vines that held it in place, Maddie offered it to him. 

“My good luck charm,” she said. “I expect it back when this is all over.” 

Andrew accepted the stone, mesmerized by how perfect it was. Somewhat egg-shaped, though more rounded, it was a pretty pale purple color, dotted with white and gold speckles. The surface was as smooth as his pocket-watch pendant, and it fit comfortably in his palm. 

It was… oddly familiar. 

“I won’t lose it,” he promised. 

“Good. Someone very important gave it to me.” A secret shone in her eyes, but the ground shook tremendously, keeping him from asking questions.

“Okay. Okay. I don’t—I don’t suppose you know where anyone is?” 

And that was how Andrew found himself very stiffly seated on top of Mothra, Maddie’s last cry of, “Don’t worry, she’ll take good care of you!” ringing in his ears, secure only in her promise that Mothra would safely get him to ‘the really big ship all the adults were on.’ She seemed steady enough, but his heart clenched at her near-constant low, pained chittering. 

The further from Boston they went, the better off Mothra seemed. 

He could only hope his last words to Maddie— 

(“There, that building. It should have a big room with lots of tech, and if you find the microphone—do you remember what those look like?—you can broadcast your voice from a ton of huge speakers. It’s called—”

“Fenway. I think, I mean, I kinda remember it. We went, when I was really little.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, we did. Good luck, Maddie. I, I’ll see you soon.”) 

—didn’t send her to her death, for real this time. 

• • •

Maddie kicked at the locked metal door—once a little hesitantly, and a second time without restraint—and popped it out of the frame, leaving a large dent near the handle. She leapt up the stairs two at a time and skidded around the corners. 

She hadn’t gotten a great look at Godzilla out there, but he obviously wasn’t doing so well. Ghidorah was beating the crap out of him, even though they were both clearly dizzy from the wailing. Godzilla was just unlucky enough to have it worse. 

At the top of the stairs, it was easy to find the room Andrew—her brother, who was alive!—had told her about. Tons of little switches and buttons and flashing lights decorated the panels. Screens covered one wall, and the giant window stared out over the massive green lawn. 

On one of the tables, amid other equipment, was the microphone, sticking up on its little stand. Beside it was a pair of headphones with a thin stick that jutted out of one of the ear pieces, with a black fabric ball on the end. 

Now, if Maddie was remembering things correctly, that was a headset, and it had a mic attached to it. It was wireless, which meant she could move around with it. Being able to see the battle from the roof might help. 

It took some haphazard fiddling, and a lot of luck, but finally, a small green light lit up on the side of the right ear piece, just above a tiny switch. 

She tentatively flicked it over to the other side. The resulting sharp whine had her wincing, but it seemed promising. Because she was sure there had been a slight click from the speakers. 

Holding the microphone up to her face, she watched all the nonsense happening on the screens and crossed her fingers.

“Hello?” she whispered uncertainly. 

Her voice, faint though it was, came through with a second’s delay. Victorious, Maddie yanked the headset into place, jammed the volume to maximum, and took off at a run, ignoring the odd echo of her own breathing. The scratchy fabric ball brushed against her cheek. 

She reached the rooftop without any missteps, and Maddie found herself grateful for the slight protection the headphones offered her from the awful screech of those machines. Slamming up against the concrete barrier encircling the roof, her eyes landed on Godzilla. He was still clearly disoriented and at a terrible disadvantage. 

Maddie didn’t have time to doubt her plan, because Ghidorah’s middle head struck out, his flashing fangs on a collision course with Godzilla’s unprotected face, and she screamed into the mic, “G, duck!” 

Her voice, at full volume, boomed across the burning city. And Godzilla—

—ducked.  

For a long second, Maddie felt like her heart had stopped, but she breathed a wheezy sigh of relief when he stumbled back to gain even more distance. Ghidorah was quick to follow. 

Godzilla didn’t look to be any less out of it, though, and that was really really bad. 

Doing her best to keep from mumbling, Maddie cried out, “I know it’s hard to focus, but you can’t let him win! You can’t die, please!” She felt jittery with adrenaline, but this wasn’t a fight she could physically get involved in. All she could do was try to be louder than the distracting wails. “On your left!” 

Godzilla snapped his jaw, just barely managing to catch Ghidorah’s approaching head between his teeth. 

Maddie took a deep breath and slowly released it. She could do this. She could help. All she had to do was keep Godzilla alive until Andrew got that ORCA shut off.

• • •

The room was empty but for her, and Emma found herself deeply, painfully grateful for that when it happened. When, through their monitoring equipment, she heard it. The voice. 

She fell back in her chair, numb. It was as if time was slowing around her, turning sluggish and thick, dragging against her old scars and reopened wounds. 

It was different. Five years would do that, surely. But a mother never forgets. 

That was Maddie’s voice, echoing over Boston from what sounded like several speakers. That was Maddie’s voice, crying out to the Titans, to Godzilla, louder than the ORCAs. In fact, the ORCAs may as well have fallen silent for how clearly she thought she could hear her daughter’s voice. 

But that wasn’t possible. Maddie was dead. Had been for five long agonizing years.

Trembling, Emma burst into frantic movement, her heart racing so hard it almost hurt. She fiddled with the cameras they had put up or hacked into, flipping through different angles, desperate, more desperate than she’d ever been in her life, to see—to see if this was real. 

It was on a rooftop that she finally spotted a small figure. A different camera provided a better view, and she zoomed in as much as she could before the image went too grainy to be of use. She was already tearing up when she leaned forward, eyes riveted on the small human. 

Dark brown hair. Ill-fitting clothes. A headset—for the speakers. When the voice came again, the person’s—the child’s—mouth moved with each word, and though the details were nonexistent and the image fuzzy, Emma knew, she knew, that it was her daughter. 

She had spent too many nights dreaming about Maddie not to recognize her now, even with the passage of time making her taller, aging her voice, and changing the little girl Emma had once held in her arms. 

The bunker could’ve burned then, and Emma wouldn’t have moved. If she died with her daughter’s blurry visage as the last thing she’d ever see, she wouldn’t mind. No, she’d welcome it. 

Maddie’s words weren’t registering, not that Emma cared. She shuffled along the building’s raised edge, and it was the simple work of scrolling to keep the camera focused on her. The Titans were fighting more in earnest now, and they seemed to be what held Maddie’s attention. 

Jonah’s preparations were probably still in progress, and they would be expecting her soon. She wouldn’t go. She couldn’t. Her world was turning upside down—the echoes of Andrew’s words filled her head—and though there could never be forgiveness, she’d turn herself over if it meant hugging her daughter, telling her how much she loved her, holding her face in her hands. One last time, just one last time. 

She had never said goodbye. Not in San Francisco, when Maddie had been so cruelly torn away and lost. Not at the funeral, where there was no body. Not in the days, the months, the endless years after that. Not on Maddie’s birthdays or the anniversaries of her death. For half a decade, Emma had been frozen in time, storing up every word she’d wished she could say, every touch she could offer. 

Maddie’s death had been a catalyst. An inciting moment. The crux of who she became. 

Refusing to lose Andrew in the same way, refusing to let the Titans—the Titans who’d killed her little girl—roam uncontrolled, refusing to let life go on as if her heart hadn’t been torn out and lost in the rubble of San Francisco. To make a new world, where she could ensure her son would never be lost in the same way as her daughter, to upheave the norm in favor of something that didn’t—couldn’t—remind her every day of the child she’d lost. 

If Maddie’s death had been the starting point, a beginning, what was her miraculous return to life? 

An end. Of course. Really, it only made sense, and Emma almost felt serene about it. 

There was so much in her head she could hardly let any one thought take precedence long enough to truly comprehend it. She was crying—when had she started? And her hands were shaking, shaking so hard she couldn’t keep the cursor steady. 

Perhaps she sat there, watching the screen, for a few minutes. Perhaps it was an hour. A day wouldn’t have been long enough, not for her. But eventually, Maddie leapt backward off the lip and ran across the roof. Frowning, Emma didn’t even have time to adjust the camera before Monster Zero appeared in the corner, and then the entire building lit up. 

It exploded, sending huge chunks of concrete flying. The live feed went staticky from the blast, though it returned to display a haphazard pile of broken walls and collapsed ceilings. It couldn’t even be called a building anymore. 

And it was where Maddie had been standing. 

Monster Zero veered away, releasing a cackling-like screech as he did—laughter; he was laughing—and there was an odd ringing in Emma’s ears. A scream. It was the most desperate, devastated sound she’d ever heard, and it took several seconds for her to realize it was coming from herself. 

She shoved away from the bank of screens, her chair toppling to the floor with a distant clatter as she stumbled to her feet. Her sobbing wails hurt her throat. She choked on them. Only the faintest part of her registered that Monarch’s ORCA had fallen silent. 

Bursting with the need to lash out, to, to hurt, to destroy something, anything, Emma’s fevered, bloodshot eyes landed on the ORCA. The very device that had awoken Monster Zero, who had just blown her daughter to bits. 

The ground trembled from the battle as she went silent and still, her breath caught in her throat, eyes wide and unblinking. So this was madness. 

Emma seized the ORCA with both hands, ripped it free of the cables connecting it to their broadcasting system, and raised it above her head with a war cry. She threw it with such force at the concrete floor that the two wing panels snapped clean off, clattering away. Without conscious thought, she smashed her foot down into the main part of the machine, grinding her boot viscously into the wiring. It cracked apart, sparking as wires tore free and the screens shattered. 

Collapsing to her knees and ignoring the sting, she fell upon the ORCA and tore at it. The sharp edges cut into her hands, and her nails broke with the violent force she scrabbled at it with. Long after the screens went dark, Emma ripped the plastic and metal and glass to shreds. Blood and tears dripped across its ruined pieces. 

Breathing heavily, she struggled to her feet, wobbling once she made it. It was somehow both the calmest and most frenzied she’d felt in years. Not even the high of controlling the Titans had been like this. 

Footsteps from the hallway approached. Emma raised her eyes just in time to meet Jonah’s as he stepped through the entrance. They stared at one another.

Jonah tutted in mock disappointment as he slowly approached. “Emma, Emma. What have you done? Don’t tell me Andrew convinced you to stray from our path.” 

“He had nothing to do with this,” she told him. “And he’s long gone anyway.” She laughed, hysterical. “You’re thinking about the wrong child, Alan.” 

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Now what could you possibly mean by that?” 

Oh, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Especially since she had still failed Maddie. 

When she didn’t answer, she watched his gaze drift back down to the decimated ORCA. For as good a poker face as the man had, the little twitch of rage was plain to see. 

“Should I consider this,” he spoke slowly, “your… resignation?” 

“Mm.” 

She saw his hand shift, and as quickly as he drew his gun, she matched him move for move. They stood like that, mirror images, weapons up and aimed at each other’s heads. 

“Don’t be foolish now,” Jonah said coldly. “What will you do? Go home? After everything, you must know that isn’t an option.” 

Emma laughed. No, no. Of course it wasn’t, because she hadn’t had a home in years. Leaving the plan behind had never been an option at all, and she’d known that from the beginning. Once she chose this path, her passion and conviction would have to be enough, because her friends and family wouldn’t approve. That thought, years ago, hadn’t phased her; it still didn’t. 

But seeing Andrew scared of her, not just disapproving or angry—she hadn’t been prepared for that. 

And in the end, it was all for nothing.

What use was control when it didn’t matter? She’d had a second chance to save her daughter today, in a perfect parallel of the incident five years ago. And the outcome had been the same. Maddie was dead twice over, and neither the ORCA nor her plans had changed a single thing. 

No matter how sure she was that the ORCA could make a difference, it hadn’t made the one difference she’d needed it to make, even if only in her dreams. Ignorance was bliss, and all that.

And if she hadn’t been able to keep Maddie alive, how could she have upheld her promise to Andrew that she would keep him safe?

 So, now what was left for her? 

It was a thought she had without distress. How calming it was to stare death down, when you had no way forward. Perhaps, if she wasn’t so angry, she might have even let him finish her off. 

But, oh, was she angry. She burned with it. That urge to destroy, to hurt, hadn’t been satisfied with the ORCA, and now, standing before her, was the man who’d helped guide her down this path to where she was today. Oh, the choices had been entirely her own, but Jonah could take a lot of the credit for getting her here. 

Perhaps he saw the resolve in her eyes, the decision being made. Perhaps he saw her finger curl around the trigger. Perhaps he didn’t notice either, and still put his own finger to the trigger anyway. 

The echo of a gun being fired rang out into the empty hallway of the bunker.

Chapter Text

The trouble started before he even reached land. A terrible noise rang in Godzilla’s head, one that sounded vaguely similar to the one from his last fight with the parasite. But that one, as uncomfortable as it’d been, hadn’t hurt like this one. It hadn’t blurred his vision or made it difficult to tell up from down. His steps were stumbling, his balance entirely thrown off. 

And he wasn’t the only one suffering. Godzilla’s first glimpse of Ghidorah, unfocused as it was, revealed his old foe was just as affected. A small mercy, that he wasn’t at too large a disadvantage.

However, in his condition, Godzilla didn’t dare use his atomic breath, even as bubbling hot power burned ever-brighter in his chest. He could only hope the loss of his long-range weapon wouldn’t be his undoing. 

Unsteady as they both were, they nonetheless clashed as surely as Ghidorah’s storm raged above them. Sharp jolts of pain tore through the muddle of Godzilla’s mind, and it was all he could do to force himself to move, to dodge, and give back as good as he got. 

He roared into the faces of the devil, and Ghidorah screeched furiously.

The human city sacrificed to be their battlefield seemed empty, though just because he wasn’t seeing any tiny people screaming through the streets didn’t mean they weren’t there. There had never been any real way for a creature of his size to navigate such tightly packed human structures without causing damage, especially when they were so fragile. But today, with his disorientation only increasing, it seemed every other building he attempted to pass began to crumble. 

His thoughts wandered distractedly, partly fueled by the false-alpha’s wail, partly by the ever-present worry he’d long-ago learned was part of being a father. One of Ghidorah’s heads shook back and forth with a growl, and he suspected he wasn’t the only one struggling to focus. 

Flimsy little human objects crunched and folded beneath his feet. A misstep sent Godzilla banging against a hip-high building, which sent it collapsing inward. Across from him, circling at a safe distance, Ghidorah attempted to flare his wings, only to smack into a taller structure with enough force that every window shattered on impact. 

There wouldn’t be much of the city left by the time this fight was over, with one of them inevitably dead, Godzilla grimly realized. It brought to mind the last time it had happened—the destruction of Maddie’s home, San Francisco. 

Just days ago, as well, she’d mentioned it was five full years since that day, since he found her and brought her to the archipelago. His relief that she was safe with the humans—with her human father—and nowhere near this fight was immeasurable. 

Godzilla didn’t think his heart would have been able to take it if she had been dragged into this. And so soon after the bomb scare, too. There seemed to be no end to the trouble she could get herself into. Then again… he was no better, was he? 

(It was a small consolation, knowing that if he… didn’t make it out, his Pup would not be left alone in the world. He need not—indeed, could not afford to—worry about her now, locked in battle with teeth and claws and wings and tails, facing down his oldest, most hated foe.)

Fiery agony burst down his side. He snapped his jaw forward, driven by instinct, but his teeth clamped down on nothing but air.

He tried to fight past the haze in his mind, past the clashing screeches of two false-alpha calls, past the lingering ache of his near-death. He tried to focus on Ghidorah, who was only slightly steadier on his feet. He tried not to worry when Mothra and Rodan came tearing through the storm clouds, wobbly and whining in pain.

Let it be known he tried. 

Godzilla couldn’t remember a time he’d fought so poorly, with so little coordination. He must have been terribly young, and small, and lacking experience. He retreated from a swipe of Ghidorah’s wing and vigorously shook his head, groaning. There was no escaping the noise, or the pain it inflicted. 

Teeth sank into his shoulder, and with a growl, he twisted to bite at the middle of Ghidorah’s extended neck. He pulled back with a screech. Godzilla roared, staggering. Their back and forth continued, gradually wearing them both down. 

It was difficult not to slip into despair when he took three hits for every one he landed on his opponent. At some point, Godzilla lost sight of Mothra, even as Rodan continued circling, thrashing his head. Ghidorah whirled unsteadily, his tails crashing against Godzilla’s side, nearly burying him in a nearby building as it collapsed beneath his weight. 

Fangs and claws gouged against his scales, and it was all he could do to keep them from his throat, his eyes, his heart. Lightning streaked wildly across the sky, the earth’s natural energy twining with Ghidorah’s alien electricity. It struck uncontrollably at whatever it could reach, igniting blazing fires across the growing stretch of rubble.

Godzilla was losing. He knew it, he was sure Ghidorah knew it, perhaps even Rodan and Mothra, wherever she’d disappeared to, knew it. He ached, with exhaustion and his injuries, yes, but also with the growing burn of star-fire—or something more than star-fire—pounding at his ribs. 

Feverish, almost, he struggled to stay upright. To fall, especially on his back—on his spines—would most certainly be the end of him. Everything blurred together with the ceaseless wailing, and each step he took felt heavier than the last. Had he thought Ghidorah would allow it, he might have even considered retreating, if only to escape the noise. 

His promise to Maddie was suffocating beneath the rest of his thoughts, but he continuously wrangled it back to the forefront of his mind. Come back, she’d begged. 

Always, he’d answered. He had no plans of being made an oath-breaker today. 

“G, duck!” 

It felt almost like a dream, like something he wished to hear so badly, he imagined it into existence. Maddie’s voice rolled across the city, booming like thunder, and drowning out the false-alpha calls. 

He didn’t even register what she’d said until after he’d moved, instinct and obedience mixing together long before his brain could sort out the meaning of her order. 

The haze briefly cleared in the moment where only the echo of her voice existed, and Godzilla realized—Ghidorah had nearly gotten a lethal hit on him, fangs poised to rip into the flesh of his face. 

And again, she yelled, somehow overpowering the storm, the shrieking, the wailing, striking him right in his heart with her plea. “I know it’s hard to focus, but you can’t let him win! You can’t die, please!”

Somehow, impossibly, she was here. A potent sense of horror rose up in his throat, mixing with the usual joy of having his Pup with him. Before he could make sense of—anything, really—she shouted a warning. 

“On your left!”

Without thought or hesitation, his body reacted, turning on his foe, his own teeth closing viciously over Ghidorah’s head. He wrenched away before Godzilla could really bite down, but seeing the streams of blood dripping over golden scales, however short-lived, was satisfying. 

Though he had no idea where exactly Maddie was, she obviously had a clear view of the fight. Where his senses had failed him, tangled and uncontrollable as the noise made them, Maddie took over. He moved at her word, trusting and following her instructions as easily as he breathed. 

And he couldn’t help but wonder—was this what it felt like to her, when she sat in his palm or napped at his side? Her safety rested in his ability to keep from dropping her, or crushing her in his grasp, or rolling over in his sleep. There had never been an equivalent, never a time when his life was cradled between her fingers. 

Without meaning any offense, Godzilla truly hadn’t ever expected it to. She was only human, after all. 

Now, it was only through her humanity that he began to hold his own against Ghidorah, that his looming death was pushed farther and farther away with every word Maddie spoke. 

He ducked beneath Ghidorah’s guard and shoved, experiencing clarity for the first time since landfall. The false-alpha calls continued, he knew that, but their power was nothing in the face of his Pup’s voice. 

Chuckling as Ghidorah toppled over, flailing his wings, Godzilla dared test his star-fire. It boiled up his throat, more intense than it usually was, but when Maddie called for him to focus, to take aim, to fire—his stance was steady, his vision clear. 

Ghidorah hissed for Rodan’s assistance, and with a pained cry, Rodan dove at Godzilla. It was a cruel play, not only for bringing another into their physical fight, but for forcing Godzilla to defend against his own kindred, especially when he radiated a silent plea for help. 

The clashing wails made Rodan’s first pass go wide, and Godzilla angled himself to use his star-fire to try and drive his old friend higher and away from the battleground. 

He swooped erratically, looping around and half-heartedly snapping his beak at Godzilla before soaring upward again with a warbling screech. 

Godzilla, who had been keeping half his attention on Ghidorah, finally refocused on him, right as Maddie shouted his name. 

A few city blocks away, Ghidorah appeared to have zeroed in on something, and with a great roar, his electricity crackled over his raised wings. Godzilla had only a second to register the tiny human form moving on the building’s rooftop before the whole thing seemed to explode with the force of Ghidorah’s attack. 

• • •

Elsewhere, Mark Russell’s terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day took a bewildering turn for the better when Mothra shot out of the clouds ahead of the Argo and, with some creative maneuvering on the sides of both Titan and humans, deposited a human among Monarch personnel for the second time that day. 

And not just any human, but his missing son. Which meant that in the span of less than twenty-four hours, Mothra had returned both of his children to him, independently of one another. 

“As soon as this is all over, I’m taking a vacation,” he mumbled into Andrew’s shoulder. 

Andrew nodded agreeably. “But first, we gotta shut off the ORCA to save Godzilla.” 

“How did you get on Mothra?” Mark asked. 

“Maddie. She’s—”

“You saw her? Where is she?” 

“Uh,” Andrew said, rubbing the back of his neck as he pulled away. “In Boston?” 

Mark sighed, somehow not entirely surprised and understandably too tired to panic. “Of course she is.” 

Rick, who’d been hovering nearby, spoke up. “What was that about turning off the ORCA?” 

• • •

Maddie saw it coming. Oh boy, did she see it coming. Ghidorah hadn’t been at all subtle when he saw her, and she’d glared him down as he clumsily headed right for her. She refused to move until the very last second, too determined to keep Godzilla from slipping back into that horrible disorientation. Surely, Andrew would get that ORCA turned off soon. 

Having circled around the rooftop as she followed Godzilla and Ghidorah’s fight, Maddie kept her escape route in mind as Ghidorah reared back to presumably blow her to smithereens. She leapt off the ledge and ran as the hair on her arms stood up. 

Something she had gradually come to realize in the past few hours—she maybe didn’t match with certain human standards. Now, as the building began to burst apart behind her, Maddie didn’t let herself consider not making it. She could run the Mountains on their island without losing her breath. She had played tag with wolves. She had climbed the crazy rock structures of the Northern Isle in the midst of a thunderstorm. 

This—outrunning the explosion, outrunning the sparking static in the air—was nothing. 

The building was long, but so were her sprinting strides. Adrenaline drew out those seconds, turned the world slow around her, and she could almost hear the cracking of concrete as large chunks broke away. The first tiny pieces of rubble were just beginning to brush her bare arms when she stretched up to plant one foot on the ledge and use it push off. 

On this side, the neighboring building wasn’t too much shorter than the one she’d been standing on, a mental note she’d made at the start. Having spent years climbing massive trees, giant rock formations, the Cliff, various outcroppings in the Mountains, and sometimes Godzilla himself, Maddie was no stranger to falling great distances. 

She hit the shorter rooftop with both feet, steady, and let her legs collapse beneath her momentum to take her into a tumbling roll. Her ankles briefly twinged from the initial shock, but by the time she’d picked herself back up to keep going—she had to get to the ground before Ghidorah took another shot—the feeling had faded. 

The headset had fallen off somewhere along the way. As the ringing in her ears from being so close to the explosion faded, she whooped with victory when she realized there was one less ORCA call. She hopped down the rickety fire escape, bypassing most of the stairs and the ladder at the bottom altogether, and hit the ground running. 

With a glitchy whine, the other ORCA stopped broadcasting as well, leaving only the sounds of the storm and the Titans to fill the city. 

Maddie whipped around the street corner, laughing, and began skirting around the fray. There was something she’d seen from the roof that bore investigating.

Out of sight, Godzilla roared.

• • • 

Godzilla’s heart seemed to stop as he lost sight of his Pup—for it could only have been his Pup, up on that roof. No self-preservation, that one. He turned his head away from the explosion and forced himself to stay calm. 

Though he had no way to track Maddie, not like he could with his kindred, and not like she could with him, some part of him desperately believed that if she died—he’d know. He would just know. Surely, some great change would instantly overcome the world if his Pup died. 

And she was fast. Tough. None of the dangers she’d faced in the past five years were quite like Ghidorah, but she was no stranger to trouble. 

His internal reassurance that Maddie had to still be alive didn’t stop him from charging in raging fury. Distracted, Ghidorah, all too satisfied with himself, cackled and hissed, Good riddance. 

He started to turn, but by then, Godzilla was upon him. As the false-alpha calls vanished, their fight began anew, twice as brutal and so much more controlled. 

Did you know that mortal? Ghidorah sneered through blood. His middle head’s jaw, dislocated and half ripped off, flapped uselessly before his healing kicked in. Little sneak, trying to help you. 

You will come to regret that, Godzilla rumbled in return, grabbing hold of the left neck and gouging all down it. He blasted his star-fire into Ghidorah’s chest before he could retaliate. 

Lightning seared through him, but it burned so faintly compared to his star-fire. 

He snapped his jaw low, at one of the fleshy junctions between heads, and whipped his tail around when Ghidorah reeled back and offset his balance. He retreated with a wheeze, chest heaving and wings up for intimidation. Frustrated, Godzilla circled, gnashing his bloodied fangs. 

The damage he was causing healed too quickly for the injuries to add up. Every time he got a significant hit in, Ghidorah retreated to give it a moment to fade. His only chance was to land a lethal hit, or at very least, one that would temporarily cripple his foe to allow him more time to finish him off.

He huffed. After so many years, he’d nearly forgotten how tiresome and difficult it was to fight this particular, unnatural not-Titan. 

Ghidorah’s heads slithered over one another, tongues flicking mockingly. The middle one chittered an order laced with the usurper-alpha power. 

Rodan was forced from the clouds, aimed at Godzilla’s back to target his spines. He croaked a warning, wordless and tired, but with an opponent on either side, Godzilla had to choose which to face head-on. And with his spines still not healed, he couldn’t afford to take significant damage to them. 

While he fended off Rodan, trying to avoid hurting his friend, Ghidorah struck. Teeth latched into his shoulder, a long neck circled around his own, and just when he’d gouged out the eyes of the right head, Godzilla felt his feet leave the ground. 

He struggled even as he suffocated, bracing himself grimly for the plummet he knew was to come. Natural lightning flashed around them as they breached the storm clouds, and with a merciless hiss—Let’s see how fast you fall!—Ghidorah dropped him. 

Landing hurt. It hurt more than he could put to words, feeling like his insides had been shaken up and re-settled in all the wrong places. His vision went white with agony for a moment, Ghidorah’s hysterical laughter the only thing he could hear past the pounding in his head. Darkness encroached—sleep, or perhaps something more permanent—and he groaned weakly. 

“G!” he heard faintly. What little air that hadn’t rushed from his lungs escaped in a wheezy sigh of relief. Maddie yet lived. But she needed to go now. He didn’t want her to see this. 

He struggled to lift his head as the ground shook with Ghidorah’s return to earth. Oh, how his star-fire burned, writhing and vicious like a living thing, like something desperately trying to get out. 

The mighty king, Ghidorah sneered, heads hypnotically rippling back and forth. Your queen has deserted you. I hold your friend in my power. I will take back control of your kindred soon enough. You have no one left. No one to save you. 

“Wrong,” Maddie said, loud and clear without shouting. With the exception of the rain and Godzilla’s heaving breaths, there was no sound to keep her from being heard. “You’re wrong,” she repeated. 

Both Godzilla and Ghidorah turned, the former with much more effort, to look into the smoky darkness in the direction of her voice. A strange crackle, one that had nothing to do with Ghidorah’s lightning, filled the air. 

Standing above Maddie, in a stance that Godzilla realized was protective and furious, was the queen of the parasites. Her red eyes glinted dangerously at Ghidorah, and her razor-sharp beak clicked in threat. A creaky warning came from her, The girl speaks the truth. You, Usurper, are wrong. 

The parasites, as Godzilla knew well, could be startlingly fast when they wanted to be. She brought down the hooked ends of her forelimbs, tearing through Ghidorah’s flared wings. He screeched and stumbled back. 

Satisfyingly, lightning proved as ineffective against the smooth, armored planes of her head and body as his own star-fire had against the others. 

He huffed as she drove their fight away from his slumped body. Godzilla allowed his eyes to close for only a moment, and opened them when the sound of small feet got closer. Maddie ran up to him, panting, and drew herself to an abrupt stop only a foot from his snout. Her eyes, he saw, were wide. She smelled of sour fear and rotten worry, hesitant to even touch him. 

I am not so fragile as that, he croaked. 

She laughed wetly and hugged him. He sighed at her familiar human warmth. Her shirt was stained with his own blood when she pulled back. 

“I saw you fall,” she whispered. Tears slipped down your cheeks. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared for you, G.” 

I’m sorry, he said. I’m so sorry, Pup. 

“You’re gonna be okay. We just—we can’t let him get close to you again, right?” 

Nodding, he asked, The queen parasite… where did… how did you… 

“I saw her getting closer before Ghidorah tried to blow me up. I asked her to help.” 

And she agreed? 

Maddie shrugged. “She seemed willing enough once I told her who I was.” 

Before he could think of a response, the ground shuddered again, this time from the arrival of Rodan. His eyes were clouded over, an effect of being commanded by an alpha who had little care for those he was connected to. 

My apologies, my King, he rasped. The Usurper—he’s so loud—

I don’t blame you, my friend, Godzilla assured him. I am only sorry that your awakening has gone this way. For all of you. 

Rodan nodded. I am to kill you, he admitted, shuffling closer. His beak clacked quietly. 

“You won’t touch him,” Maddie growled. 

Freezing in place, Rodan twisted his head this way and that, looking down at her. I know your voice, he trilled. You helped Godzilla. The other calls—they hurt less. 

She is my Pup, Godzilla explained. He eyed Rodan, wary.

He only propped his wings further out to lean down. King’s Pup, he said. A little of the haze faded, leaving his eyes brighter. Slyly, he added, Queen’s, too? 

Godzilla huffed, refusing to answer to the teasing. 

Maddie apparently had no such reservations. “Yeah, they’re like my parents.” 

Rodan threw his head back and laughed. Good! he cried. 

A tall building crashed into rubble a short distance away, drawing all their attention to it. Godzilla tried to get up, but pain shot through him, nearly making him black out. As he blinked blearily past the agony, he just managed to catch Maddie ask Rodan, “Will you help? We’ve gotta stop Ghidorah from hurting anyone else.” 

Rodan straightened, eyes clearing further. He screeched and raised his wings. Yes, little human, little King’s Pup, he said, I won’t let him take my mind like that again. Death to the Usurper! 

Ghidorah screeched wildly only moments after Rodan took off, which seemed like a good sign to Godzilla. 

“G,” Maddie said, an odd note of caution in her voice. “You’re, uh.” She waved at his body. “You’re kinda glowing a little?” 

To his astonishment, she was right. The spaces between his scales were emitting a faint red light. Quite suddenly, he became aware of how he itched all over, his flesh feeling feverish and tight. His star-fire—there was something wrong. It was growing, hot and overwhelming, far beyond anything he’d ever experienced before. 

It felt like when he was in his temple, absorbing the radiation. No matter how long he’d stayed before, or how often he went back, he had never taken in too much like this. Never enough that it seemed to course through him like the fiery lava of the underwater cavern. 

“You’re burning up!” Maddie cried, stepping away after the slightest of touches to his scales. “What’s happening?” 

When he shifted this time, what little pain he felt was dulled by the sheer heat within him. You must run, Maddie, he rumbled. I don’t know what this is, but—my star-fire feels like it’s going to explode on its own. You can’t be nearby when it happens. 

Maddie cast a glance in the direction of the three battling Titans. At the very least, Rodan and the queen were holding their own, keeping Ghidorah from advancing. But they wouldn’t be able to beat him, not by themselves. 

“You’ll be careful?” she asked, already moving hesitantly in the opposite direction. “You’ll—you’ll come back?” 

Godzilla rose to his feet and shook himself free of the tension running through his muscles. Yes, he promised, more sure of himself than the last time he’d made this same oath. He won’t escape me this time. Now, go! 

Maddie took off like the little wild thing she was, her footing sure against the slippery streets, not even the largest piles of rubble enough to slow her down. Her time exploring the Mountains was proving useful, he realized with warm pride. 

Ghidorah saw him first, though Rodan and the queen were quick to catch on. In the moment of stillness that overtook them all, Ghidorah beat his wings and rose into the air. 

You would run, you coward? Godzilla bellowed after him. Or is it that you fear me more than you would ever admit? You must know—you’ll never kill me! 

Just as Rodan prepared to go after him and drag him back if necessary, a web of silk shot down from the clouds, engulfing Ghidorah’s wings on the upstroke, holding them together so he couldn’t even use them to glide. 

Mothra soared into view as he crashed heads first into a building. She trilled a greeting, one that Rodan gladly and apologetically returned. The queen chittered and flexed her forelimbs, eyes focused on Ghidorah’s futilely thrashing form. 

Godzilla jerked his snout in the direction Maddie had run off to. Get her out of here, he called, and as Mothra swooped off to do just that, he turned to his kindred. You should leave as well, he told them. There is something happening to my star-fire. I fear it will burn everything it can soon. 

Rodan bobbed his head and took off, the queen following after a slight incline of her own head. 

With every step Godzilla took, he could feel the concrete bubbling around his feet as his surroundings began to sag in on themselves, melting from proximity alone. Ghidorah struggled upright, and was able to free his wings just in time for the thin webbing of them to shrivel up and burn away. He screeched in pain and stumbled back, just barely managing to remain standing.

Not for long, though.

The air hummed loudly with the sound of his spines charging, and it was with great pleasure that Godzilla unleashed a resounding beam of star-fire more powerful than any he had managed before. It surged against Ghidorah, searing away his scales. He fell over, his flesh bubbling and scorched.

He didn’t slow his advance as the city burned ever more fiercely, and Ghidorah right along with it. His foe struggled weakly as he neared and made a last attempt to blast him with his electricity. Godzilla didn’t even feel it. 

The heat’s intensity grew and grew, the lava-red light beneath his scales pulsing, and another wave of pure, unrelenting power turned the nearest two of Ghidorah’s heads to ash in the wind. A final, pitiful wiggle backwards and away was all the Usurper was able to manage before Godzilla raised his foot, planted it on the rise of Ghidorah’s smoldering chest, and leaned all his weight into it. 

Funny enough—to Godzilla, at least—despite how much he felt like he himself was going to explode with the star-fire swirling through him, Ghidorah was the one who burst apart in a blaze of yellow lightning, kickstarting a reaction similar to any bomb he’d ever witnessed. The inferno of light and fire and electricity rose, surrounding them both and overtaking the nearest buildings, spreading outward at a fast pace. 

His last thought before he was lost in the blinding brightness was that he’d been right. There really wouldn’t be much of the city left. 

• • • 

Perched on Mothra’s back, high over the ocean and at a safe distance from the destruction Godzilla was causing, Maddie watched with bated breath for a sign that he was okay. That the terrible heat she’d felt as they’d fled hadn’t killed both him and Ghidorah. 

Mothra, likely having similar thoughts, carefully adjusted her path to angle a little closer to the wreckage. The rain had stopped, and already, the temperature was growing more bearable. Numerous human aircraft—including the giant one she’d been kidnapped from—were holding their ground at a greater distance. 

From the smoke, a large form shifted, and with a gasp, she made out Godzilla, rising to his feet with the last of Ghidorah’s heads in his mouth, thrashing sluggishly and wailing. Mothra turned to drift closer, and Maddie leaned up to take in the blue glow of Godzilla’s ordinary star-fire building in his throat. 

“Another one bites the dust,” she whispered. 

Star-fire ripped through the short remaining length of Ghidorah’s neck, burning it away until there was simply nothing left of him. 

A faint crackle of electricity bounced around in Godzilla’s mouth as he shook himself free of the ash covering his body. As they got closer, Maddie could hear his pleased rumbling. Unable to help herself, she pushed up against Mothra, threw both fists high in the air, and hollered in celebration. 

Mothra joined in with a piercing trill, and a moment later, from beyond Godzilla, more victory screeches and rumbles came from the assembled Titans—a group that looked much larger than it had ten minutes ago. 

Circling around, Mothra delicately perched on Godzilla’s back and shoulder, using his spines to keep from sliding off. In her excitement and relief, Maddie jumped off Mothra’s back to his shoulder, where she was only half-able to control her slide down his arm before Godzilla moved to catch her. 

He nuzzled against Mothra for a moment, both as close to purring as they could get, before he turned to look down at her. Distantly, Maddie was aware of the other Titans approaching them, but all she could do was smile helplessly up at Godzilla, trying not to burst into tears. 

Curling forward, he held her to his chest and rumbled quietly, When Ghidorah burned that building, I almost thought I’d lost you. 

“Almost?” she asked with a little sniffle. 

Godzilla hummed. I told myself I would know if you had died. And that you are unusually good at escaping trouble. 

She laughed and roughly rubbed her eyes. “I saw him coming. I had a plan.” 

He rumbled a little louder but otherwise didn’t respond, apparently content to simply exist for a moment. 

A thought occurred to her, though, and she had to voice it. “Hey, G.” She waited for him to pull back to look at her before continuing. “I was in your temple.” 

Yes, you were. You and a bomb. 

Maddie hastily waved that away. “Bomb, schmomb. The temple, G, the temple. I handled it just fine.” 

You did, he said, sounding a little confused. And I’m very proud. 

“So,” she said, drawing the word out. “Does that mean I can finally climb the archipelago’s volcano?” 

Their inside joke from all these years, in the aftermath of so much pain and destruction, had Godzilla laughing heartily. With a put-upon sigh, he dipped his head. I suppose you have earned that, at least. 

“Yes!” Maddie cried. “Victory at last!” 

Mothra chuckled and butted her head against Godzilla’s. Are you all right? she asked. Truly? 

Yes, he answered, the weak croak from before entirely gone. Whatever caused my star-fire to do that—the overall effect was much like when I absorb radiation. I am no worse for wear, Mothra, I promise. 

Maddie breathed a quiet sigh of relief to herself, finally relaxing at his confirmation that all was well. 

She looked around at the assembled Titans, recognizing them from the stories she’d been told over the years. Rodan and the queen were both a bit beat up, though nowhere near as bad as Godzilla had gotten. And they were both still standing without appearing ready to fall over, which was a good sign, she hoped. 

Rodan shook his wings and bowed forward. I’m sorry for my role in the Usurper’s plan, he said. I have—

There is nothing to apologize for, Godzilla interrupted firmly. What one does under the control of another, and here, he nodded to the queen parasite, making Maddie remember that she had been ordered around by humans not so long ago at all, cannot and should not reflect on who they are. I hold nothing against you, my friend. Either of you. 

He fell silent, simply staring from one Titan to another. I’m very happy, he finally said, to see you all again. It has been a very long time. 

There were too many echoed sentiments for Maddie to keep track of who said what, but it brought a smile to her face to see them all reunited at last. The danger was behind them, Ghidorah was dead, and Godzilla wasn’t. He had survived; they all had. 

It was over. Relief barreled into her like a truck, and she flopped back against Godzilla’s palm to giggle a little up at the brightening sky. The storm had dissipated, revealing the golden light of the setting sun. Ash and smoke from the fires still burning throughout the city hung in the air, but Maddie couldn’t have cared less. 

Godzilla huffed down at her, and she waved his concern away. “It’s over, G,” she explained, giving life to the thought. “We made it.” 

He tilted his head and smiled in that inhuman but so familiar way of his. We did, he agreed softly. Lifting his hand with her in it, he looked to the Titans she hadn’t met yet. Maddie, this is Methuselah, Scylla, and Behemoth. 

She sat up and waved. “It’s nice to finally meet you! G hasn’t told me nearly enough stories about everyone!” she called. 

Methuselah laughed deeply. Oh, kid, there’s plenty we could tell you. 

Oh, yes, Scylla added mischievously. Has he mentioned the incident with the net and stone pillars? 

Story time can wait until later, Godzilla hastily said. Mothra laughed so hard, she slipped off her perch and had to glide away, slowly circling the group. I’d rather not linger, in case the humans get any new ideas. 

Behemoth sighed mightily, sending plumes of smoke swirling away from his face. Home, he said. Maddie ached at the wistfulness in his voice, wondering how long it’d truly been since any of them had been to the archipelago. 

Godzilla briefly looked off into the distance, perhaps in the direction of the islands. It’s waiting, he told them. And it has been quiet long enough. 

There’s only so much the three of us can do, Mothra slipped in. It will be good to see the islands so alive again. 

And as much as Maddie had gotten used to the relative emptiness and solitude of the archipelago, even she brightened at the image that came to mind. To more than double the voices that carried over the hills and water, to fill the stillness with new friends—it wasn’t a dream she’d had before, but the need to see it, and be part of a different sort of paradise, filled her heart. 

Which left only one problem. 

Her human family. 

Chapter Text

Mothra was the one to take Maddie to her family while Godzilla and the others made for the ocean. They found one of the funny helicopters landed near the shore a short distance away from the destruction, where the nearby buildings were still mostly standing. 

Andrew saw them first, waving his entire arm back and forth as Mothra approached. Her brother’s smile was huge, and for some reason, Maddie found it easier to read him than the adults she’d encountered so far. 

“You’re okay!” he called, running forward as Mothra landed and held still for Maddie to climb off. Andrew swept her up in a hug like he had in the city, pulling her clear off her feet. She laughed and clutched him back. 

“Mothra got you back just fine?” she asked when he set her down. She figured it had gone well, all things considered, but it seemed polite to ask. 

“Yep!” he answered, popping the p. Turning to Mothra, his smile softened. “Thanks again for taking me to my dad. And for keeping Maddie safe.” 

Of course, Mothra said, bowing her head. You are my child’s brother. Family in its own right. 

Their dad came closer, lacking the enthusiasm and trust to be near a Titan that Andrew had. He looked tired, in Maddie’s opinion, and his expression wasn’t as stiff and blank as before. 

After Maddie translated Mothra’s response, Andrew twisted around to look at him. “We’re Maddie’s family, Dad. She won’t hurt us.” 

It seemed to help a little, as a fraction of the hesitation slowing his steps faded. But Maddie got the feeling, as Andrew tentatively put a hand on Mothra’s face, that he would never be quite as comfortable as either of them. 

“I didn’t really get a good look in Boston, ’cause it was so dark and everything was happening so fast,” Andrew said, turning back to her. He tapped her nose, making her scrunch it up. “But you’ve got glowing freckles, Maddie.” 

She silently lifted her hands, showing him the scales on her palms and dotting her wrists. 

“Wow,” he breathed. “Can I…?” His fingers hovered a few inches away. 

“Sure,” she said. Her little mutations had been left largely ignored when she was with the adults, and given the brief conversation she’d overheard from her kidnappers, she wasn’t sure how they would be received. 

But Andrew didn’t seem weirded out or anything, and his fascination didn’t make her feel uncomfortable. Taking her hand in his, he trailed his fingers over the scales, smiling in awe.

“And they just grew like that?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she answered. There was something in the air, an awkwardness or hesitation that she couldn’t quite pinpoint. Maddie wanted to tuck herself against Mothra for comfort or ask if she was feeling something similar, but she forced herself not to and focused on Andrew instead. “I’ve got more on my feet. They’re mostly where I had calluses.” 

“That’s so cool. Dad! Isn’t that amazing?” 

Their dad didn’t look like he agreed, but she didn’t feel a ‘fight or flight’ reaction at what his face was doing. 

“Do they hurt?” he asked, sounding almost devastated. 

Maddie was quick to reassure him. “Not even a little! They just kinda showed up one day when my skin was peeling. They’re just… normal, to me.” 

Maybe that was it. Her normal and theirs were different, and only now, in the quiet wake of so much panic and rushing and fighting, was it starkly obvious. She wondered if they were thinking anything similar.

Her dad’s eyes trailed over her face. A shaky breath left him, and Maddie and Andrew both stepped toward him as if he was in danger of collapsing. He didn’t, instead gripping Maddie’s shoulders as if she’d disappear if he let go. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, eyes wet. “I know we already did this part, but…” 

She wished she remembered more about how to comfort people. Was it the same as with Godzilla and Mothra? Physical contact always seemed to work best for them, and her dad had hugged her tightly when they first reunited. 

Before she could take that last step closer, Andrew moved for her, pulling her against their dad’s side as he pressed against the other. 

A group hug. A family group hug. 

“Five years,” their dad gasped. “I’ve missed five years.” 

“It’s okay, I—I’m here now, and I’m not hurt or anything.” 

“Were you happy?” he asked, bowing his head over hers. “I need to know that you, you weren’t—suffering.” 

“I was,” she told him. “Not always, because I thought you guys were dead and I missed you, but…” Would he want to know that the past five years were wonderful? That she’d been taken care of, loved, and had found a new home? “It was good,” Maddie admitted quietly. “It was a good five years.” 

She felt him nod. “I’m so glad,” he said, and that was when she realized he was crying now. “Losing you was—but I wouldn’t want you to have been miserable.” 

“I wasn’t,” she promised. “We had our ups and downs, but I promise, Dad, I wasn’t in any sort of pain, of any kind.” 

Then, and only then, did Mark Russell look into Mothra’s eyes and say, “Thank you. For bringing her back, keeping her alive, whatever else you’ve done. Thank you.” 

My King played a much greater role in her survival than I, she trilled. But your thanks are appreciated regardless. 

“You’re being weirdly formal,” Maddie told her. “They can’t even understand you.” 

Mothra chuckled. Perhaps not. But they are your family and deserve my respect for no other reason than that. 

“What’s she saying?” her dad asked. 

“That Godzilla did more than she did, but she appreciates it anyway.” 

“He left, right?” Andrew asked, pulling away to look around. 

Maddie shook her head. “He’s waiting over there.” She waved in his general direction, feeling how close he lingered. “He’s a great big worrywart.” To Mothra, she asked, “Can you ask him to come here?” 

Her dad’s eyes widened, but before he could get so much as a word out, Mothra leaned up and called out, wings flaring upwards. 

The water, after a few seconds, parted for his spines. Maddie watched from between her brother and dad as Godzilla slowly surfaced, gliding into the shallows without standing up.

Pup, he greeted her. This is your family? 

“Yeah! Except for my mom.” Maddie frowned and glanced between them. “Where is she, anyway?” 

An angry, sour expression passed over Andrew’s face. Glaring at the ground, he merely said, “We’ll tell you later, okay? Just—she’s gone, Maddie.” 

Not dead, gone. But what did that mean? A similar twisted look seemed stuck on their dad’s face, so with a wide-eyed shrug at Godzilla, she dropped the subject. 

“Dad,” she said, reveling in the fact that she could, “Godzilla saved me in San Francisco. I would’ve died there if he hadn’t found me. And he’s taken care of me since.” 

“It should be impossible,” he muttered—entirely to himself, she suspected. Louder, he said, remarkably genuine to her ears, “I can’t thank you enough for doing that. To have her back is—it’s like a dream.” 

I am sorry for the pain you’ve all gone through, he replied. But I’m glad you’ve made it to today, to have experienced your reunions. You are welcome, father of my Pup. It has been one of my greatest joys to have met and known Maddie. 

She somewhat edited his words when she repeated them, ignoring Godzilla’s chuckle over leaving out that last bit. 

It’s only the truth, he insisted with a rumble. 

“Shut up.”

“Not gonna lie,” Andrew said. “But the part about you understanding them is more out of a dream for me than anything else.”

“It didn’t happen right away.” Maddie smiled at the memory of charades and haphazard guesses on her part in those early months. “I’ll tell you the whole story eventually, okay? I promise.” Of course, she had noticed that neither she nor Andrew made any attempt to switch their charms back. She couldn’t speak for him, but to her, the slight weight of the pendant over her sternum was a comforting reminder that he was real, and here, and wouldn’t suddenly leave. 

“A story for a story,” their dad said. 

They fell into silence for a moment, only filled by the sound of the gentle waves. Godzilla remained in front of them, motionless, and Mothra was keeping quietly out of the way behind them. The helicopter off to the side sat dark and unobtrusive.

“So…” Andrew said hesitantly. “What now?” 

Maddie bit her lip. What now, indeed. No one spoke up in the heavier silence that followed his question, and she realized with a sickly fluttering feeling in her chest that they were waiting for her to say something. She swallowed and toed at a rock on the ground, unable to look at anyone. In a smaller voice than she would’ve wanted, she started, “I… I don’t think I can stay here.” 

I won’t stop you if you want to stay, Godzilla interjected before she could add anything else. Her shoulders hunched inward at the resigned sorrow, the heartbreak, she heard. It sounded like he’d had to force that simple sentence out. 

“I don’t mean because you wouldn’t let me,” she told him. “I just…” Maddie looked over her shoulder, past Mothra, to the city behind them. The burnt, ruined section, and the areas that were still standing. 

Her memories of before San Francisco were faint. She filled in the gaps, imagining the people who would crowd the streets, streets of concrete like valleys between buildings of metal and glass. She imagined the sound of it, of dozens—hundreds—of voices and cars and machines. The smell, the way everything and everyone would be packed too-close together.

Not everywhere was like that, she knew. Smaller cities existed, little towns surrounded more by nature than anything. 

But none of those places, big cities or otherwise, were home anymore. The mere thought of never going back to the archipelago made her stomach churn. 

“It’s not what’s right for me,” she finally said, meeting first Godzilla’s, then her dad’s eyes. “I don’t think I could come back for good. I… I don’t want to.” 

She watched him swallow heavily, but Andrew beat him to responding. 

“Then don’t,” he said, as if it was that simple. She wished it were. “Stay with them—” he nodded between Godzilla and Mothra— “but visit often?”

“Of course,” she promised. “It’s that,” she explained, gesturing behind them, “I don’t want to be a part of. Not this. I don’t think I could stand losing you again.” 

His smile told her it was the same for him. To their dad, who had yet to say a word after her declaration, Andrew said, “It’s like you and me, Dad. We built a new home for ourselves, and I wouldn’t want to give it up either.” 

Whatever Maddie had been expecting—anger, maybe, or a flat-out refusal to even consider it, perhaps—it wasn’t for him to nod slightly. “I’m not sure I could ever understand all of it,” he said, with a pointed look at Godzilla, “but I can understand that part. And it would be cruel of me, I think, to tear you away from them.” He blew out a breath and leveled a hard glare at Godzilla. “So long as you don’t keep her from us, that is.” 

So long as Maddie wants to be with you, I will bring her here, he promised, and Maddie did a direct translation for that one. You are her family. I know what it is to be separated from your loved ones. 

“You almost don’t even need me anymore,” she half-joked. 

Godzilla raised his head with a growl. Never think that, Pup. No matter how many of my kindred come home, I will always need you. 

“If I promise to believe that,” she said, quickly swiping at her eyes, “will you promise to believe that you’re still just as much my family even though I’ve found my human family? And that I won’t stop needing you just because I have them now?” 

…Yes. That’s an exchange I’m willing to agree on. 

“Good.” Maddie sighed to herself, almost aching with relief that there hadn’t been any yelling or arguments. 

“That being said,” her dad interjected before she could relax too much. “Legally speaking, I could probably get in a lot of trouble if I just… let you go.” 

Andrew made a choking noise. A mischievous smile crossed his face. “But Dad, no one has to know.” 

“What—”

“Legally, Maddie’s dead.” He laughed while their dad processed that and turned to her. “If you ever decide you want to be part of all that,” he gestured expansively at the city, burned to the ground as it was, “then we can see about, uh, having that corrected.” 

Their dad blew out a long breath. “That’s crazy. It wouldn’t work, not with, with, security cameras. Castle Bravo, the sub, and then in Boston?”

“But that’s not a no.” 

Off to the side, someone cleared their throat. She and her family looked over to see Rick at the top of the helicopter’s ramp, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. “I couldn’t help but overhear,” he said, grinning. “And there’s a very simple solution to justifying her physical presence without shackling her to human society.” 

Her dad sighed. “And what would that be?” 

“We call her a Titan, make a file just for her, and boom, she’s not only protected by Monarch, but she can come and go as she pleases.”

Maddie bit her lip to keep from smiling too widely. That—that sounded pretty much perfect.  

“Excuse me?” her dad said, sounding entirely incredulous. “You can’t just—that’s—what does that even mean!”

Rick held his hands up in mock defense. “Hey, I’m just saying—if she lives with Titans, understands the Titans, and reacts to radiation like Titans—maybe she’s a Titan.” 

While her dad sputtered, Dr. Serizawa came up from behind Rick. At the sight of him, and the big bruise on his forehead, Maddie immediately burst out, “I’m sorry! For hitting you, I mean, I just—no one was listening and they all said you would die if you went, and—”

Dr. Serizawa laughed. He didn’t look angry, which was a good sign. “You are more than forgiven, Maddie. A bump on the head is a small price to pay for my life.” He came down the ramp and gripped her shoulders. “And for that, I thank you.” 

She smiled up at him. He really did seem like a good man. 

He turned to her dad. “Dr. Stanton’s suggestion is, I believe, the safest course of action for Maddie’s sake, Mark. Humans do not always react rationally to the new and unexplainable. As I understand, after being back among us for less than a day, already she has been the victim of a kidnapping attempt.” 

What, Godzilla growled. 

“Dang it,” Maddie muttered. She’d kinda been hoping to keep that from him. 

Dr. Serizawa looked a little like he was holding back from running right into the water just to see Godzilla up close. “Incredible,” he said softly. “And you’ve spent these past five years with him?” 

“Yeah. And Mothra for the past—what, a year and a half now?” 

“I apologize for getting off topic, but—how would you feel about answering some questions?” he asked. “Not now, of course. And only if you are willing?” 

“So long as you don’t go poking at me or expect me to give up his secrets, I’d be happy to.” If it meant maybe preventing another bomb incident, Maddie would jump at the chance to show them how wrong they were about Godzilla. 

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Dr. Serizawa said easily, smiling with what she suspected was restrained enthusiasm. 

Sorry, Godzilla said, not sounding sorry at all. Can we go back to what he said about you getting kidnapped? 

Maddie had it handled, Mothra soothed him. And I finished them off. 

You knew? 

“Oh, geez. G, it wasn’t that big of a deal!” 

He leveled a flat look at her. 

“I’m serious!” Maddie spun in a slow circle. “See? I’m not hurt or anything! They didn’t really stand much of a chance.” 

Her dad’s head bounced back and forth between her and Godzilla. “I have no idea what he’s saying, but if I’m guessing correctly based off your responses, I think you’re going to need to explain what happened sooner rather than later. To all of us.” 

It would be best to get it out of the way, Mothra said. But only after you have something to eat. It has been far too long since you’ve had a meal. 

She could practically feel Godzilla’s increasing worry. But her stomach was aching a bit from emptiness, and it’d been a very long day, or however much time had passed since she and Mothra had left the archipelago. It certainly felt like ages ago.

“What’d she say?” Andrew asked. 

“She wants me to eat before telling any stories. It’s been a while,” she sheepishly admitted. 

Rick chuckled. “I say we put some distance between us and the battleground. The smell is starting to get to me.” 

The others all made expressions of disgusted agreement. Maddie sniffed the air and shrugged to herself. The stench of death and burnt flesh was very mild, hardly noticeable if you asked her. 

“So,” he continued, “how about we have the others pick up some food and meet us somewhere.” 

“First meal as a family again,” Andrew whispered to her as the adults began discussing specifics. 

She nodded along, speechless. Because it really was, wasn’t it? And it felt like it should be impossible, but she had both sides of her family with her, and no one was fighting or anything. If the distance and tension was the worst it ever got—well, Maddie could deal with that. 

But if today, right now, was any indication… they’d be fine. All of them. Her dad and brother, and Godzilla and Mothra, and her, right in the middle. 

In the beginning, she’d thought of being at the archipelago as a great adventure—and it had been. Oh, how it had been. There was so much she could tell them, so many stories she had saved up for this very situation, as impossible as it had always seemed. It’d been less painful to pretend back then that she would reunite with them someday. 

And now, with that adventure over, it was time to start another, one where both sides of her family were still with her. 

It promised to be a good one.

Chapter Text

Turned out, the volcano was basically an enormous tube of bubbling lava. Having never stood at the top of a volcano before, Maddie hadn’t been sure if that was normal or not. Months after that first time up there, she still wasn’t. 

Thanks for telling the humans I like fish. They feed me by the truckload whenever I stop by their little base, Rodan, tucked cozily inside his volcano, said. 

“You’re welcome.” Sitting on the lip, though not quite at the edge, Maddie was enjoying the extreme heat that emanated from the opening. It was all the comfort and warmth of the hot springs, but without having to get wet. “Let me know if they ever give you something you don’t like.” 

He hummed. Tell them if they ever want to take some of my blood again, I’ll only accept whale meat as bribery. It’s not something I indulge in often. 

“You got it. Did you see Mothra while you were out?” 

Briefly. Said she wants to visit the temple where she hatched. 

Maddie was a little worried about her, in all honesty. When her dad and brother had first told her about everything her mother had done, Maddie hadn’t wanted to believe it. The proof, obviously, was overwhelming, but it’d still been so hard to reconcile the last memories she had of her mom with the woman who hurt so many people. 

She’d explained it haltingly to Godzilla and Mothra, who’d been great sources of comfort while she dealt with the short bout of grief and confused anger. Fact was, she’d already gone through the mourning process when she first believed her entire family was dead. This was the one case where she may as well have been right. 

But only recently, when Maddie had finally showed them some old pictures of her family pre-San Francisco, had Mothra started acting a little funny. She’d left the archipelago a few days ago now, and hadn’t returned since. 

“I hope she’s okay…” 

You’ve noticed too, huh? 

She nodded. “This isn’t… it’s not part of her rebirth cycle, right?” 

Rodan lifted his head, lava dripping over his beak. Aw, hell, kid. She wondered sometimes where he picked up that sort of language. It reminded her a little of Dr. Stanton, funny enough. I swear it’s not, he promised. The Queen may be acting out of character, but she’s not about to up and leave without a word if something was wrong enough for her rebirth cycle to kick in. 

Maddie fiddled with her shark-tooth necklace. “Good. That’s good. I just—if she’s going back to her temple—”

She’s probably got something on her mind, Rodan said, shifting around and sending great bubbles of lava bursting across the glowing surface of his pool. We all have places where we prefer to think to ourselves. The islands are a bit loud for that. I’m sure she’ll be back soon. 

• • •

Quite some distance away, Mothra stewed to herself within the waterfall where she’d set up her cocoon, too large to crawl through the tunnels as she had before. But just because she hadn’t returned to the exact location, her memory nevertheless allowed her to picture it perfectly. 

She remembered the people who’d watched her hatch, who had studied her in great caution, who had stood on the other side of a flimsy glass panel in some delusion of safety. 

And according to the pictures Maddie had shown them, one of those people had been her mother. 

Having moved past the surprise and shock—and the if only I had known, I could’ve stopped her type thoughts that she was only briefly guilted by—she had entered an odd state of contemplation. 

Maddie’s mother had been present for her hatching. 

What were the odds? And how different could it all have been? In only a slightly altered set of circumstances, namely one where Maddie had never been separated from her family, was there a world where she had opened her eyes for the first time in this life and seen Maddie there? 

Though it would have meant less years together, and a very different first meeting, it was comforting, in a way, to imagine that Maddie’s presence in her life—and in Godzilla’s, perhaps even all of their lives—was so… assured. 

That, if San Francisco had gone differently, there would have been another opportunity. Maybe even more beyond that. 

Yes, Mothra decided, flexing her wings, unfurling them in the cool spray of water. That was a comforting thought, indeed.

• • • 

“Bye, G!” Maddie called as he began to swim away, leaving her bobbing in the water a short distance from the shore. “See you in a week!” 

Stay out of trouble! he rumbled back, ever the worrywart. 

She rolled her eyes as he finally dove beneath the waves. Rather than swimming along the surface, Maddie did the same, only in the opposite direction. It was much more interesting to skim along the bottom of the ocean as the sandy floor slowly inclined upward. Schools of tiny fish darted through the seaweed. 

It reminded her of Kelpie. Someday, she’d have to figure out a way to introduce him to Andrew. 

Speaking of, he was standing on the beach when she finally gave in to the increasingly shallow water and stood up, pushing her hair out of her eyes. 

“Hey!” He waved. “We saw Godzilla, so we were wondering if you decided to ditch us or something!” 

She laughed. “Never!”

He hugged her without care for his clothes as soon as she got close enough, as usual. Maddie smiled contentedly as they slowly made their way up the path from the beach to the house tucked a short distance away. 

It was ideal on all counts. With the destruction of Godzilla’s temple, he’d had to find a new place to get his usual fill of radiation, and the location he’d settled on was a fair bit farther from the archipelago than the temple had been. Not only did that mean his trips took longer, but his path brought him right by this place, where Monarch had gifted the Russells with a cozy house. And the use of a Monarch aircraft to travel between their home in Colorado and the so-called Outpost 54-and-a-half. Above the front door was a wooden plaque proudly bearing the designation. 

Now, whenever Godzilla went to recharge or wanted to go on a particularly long patrol, Maddie went with him so he could drop her off. It worked perfectly, in her opinion. 

Especially since, as much as she loved staying with her family, there was only so long she could handle being away from home. Sleeping in a bed and being expected to wear shoes out of the house just didn’t feel right anymore. 

They were very understanding of that, to her sheepish relief. And neither Dad or Andrew made fun of her when she slipped up and did something that wasn’t technically normal for a person. 

On the other hand, there were plenty of things she didn’t mind learning—or relearning—about. Though she’d been able to keep up with her reading, and to the barest minimum, her writing, Maddie took to new knowledge like Rodan to lava. Five years of a stagnated understanding of the world really made learning fun. 

And a lack of homework or tests. That probably contributed to her enjoyment, considering how much Andrew griped about his own schoolwork. 

Maddie’s life, for the past few months, had become the quite literal best of both worlds. Living at the archipelago had never been better, now that there were so many new inhabitants. They’d told her plenty of stories spanning centuries back, and Maddie had filled them in on things that happened during the comparably short amount of time she’d known Godzilla and Mothra. 

Someday, she privately hoped to bring her family to the island so they could see it for herself. Her descriptions just weren’t the same. It wasn’t something she was ready to bring up to anyone just yet, though.

But she had time. Plenty of it, which never ceased to amaze her. 

“How’s Little Shadow?” Andrew asked as they walked. She seemed to be his favorite of the friends Maddie had told him about. 

“Good,” she replied. “She seems insistent on climbing Behemoth’s tusks, for some reason. He thinks its hilarious.” 

“I’m glad she’s not as freaked about leaving the Greater Forest.” 

“Me, too. It was like once she realized there were more friends outside it than in it, she got way bolder.” Maddie was still her favorite, though, which she took pleased pride in. “How have you guys been?” 

Andrew stopped and excitedly told her, “Dad blew up at some guy last weekend who suggested trying to find a way to ‘fix’ you! It was incredible, Maddie, honestly, I wish you had seen it.” 

She smiled down at the ground, warm with the proof that her dad really didn’t care about her mutations. They had come a long way, all of them trying to figure out how they fit together as a family.

They had their rough patches, but who didn’t? It was a learning experience for each of them.

Like how some of Maddie’s stories freaked her dad out, and it’d taken time for her to really parse out what stressed him out to hear. Andrew, on the other hand, ate it all up. So did Dr. Serizawa, on the occasions where he and Miss Vivienne came to visit. 

But he was trying, and that mattered more to Maddie than anything. 

Dad was waiting for them on the back porch. He smiled as soon as he saw them, and Maddie could barely believe sometimes that she had this. It was almost too good to be true, but then, it felt like most things these days were. 

Maddie hugged him tightly before they went inside. “How was your hike?” she asked, belatedly remembering them talking about it before she left last time.

“It was great,” he answered. “Got plenty of good pictures, and there’s nothing quite like camping beneath the stars.” 

“I know the feeling,” Maddie said ruefully. It got a chuckle out of them. 

“You should come with us next time,” Andrew offered. “I bet you’d make us both look bad.” 

It was tempting, much more so than any suggestion to go into town or something. If they planned it right, they could even meet up with Godzilla along the coast. “I think I’d like that,” she told him, smiling when excitement brightened his expression. Sneaking a sly look at Dad, she added, “But only if I can bring my spear.” 

He groaned dramatically, staggering away and into the house as if she’d mortally wounded him. Like Godzilla—and that was telling, wasn’t it?—her dad had mixed feelings about her weaponry. And boy, hadn’t it been fun when he realized he shared an opinion with the Titan he more or less shared parental rights with. 

Andrew snickered and offered her a thumbs up as they followed after him. Maddie and Andrew wiped their bare feet on towels left by the door, a compromise allowing her to not wear shoes outside so long as she didn’t get dirty footprints all over the carpet. 

It was all a compromise, she thought. They’d found their balance, tentatively at first, but they’d long since settled into a lifestyle that flowed easily. A give and take that made allowances for them all. 

The thought of going into a bustling city still made her stomach churn. But no one expected her to, or even put up much of a fuss about her distaste. With things like that, they were moving at her own pace. 

A delicious smell filled the house, and Maddie excitedly bounced into the kitchen. The return to a wider selection of foods had been welcome, though she still enjoyed her simpler meals on the island. Spaghetti noodles bubbled lightly on the stove beside a pan of red meat sauce. She spotted garlic toast in the oven, and happily joined Andrew in setting the table and pulling glasses and plates down from the cupboards. 

After dinner, they’d pick out a movie or two, as always. Maddie had a lot of catching up to do, after all, and they both had so many favorites to share. 

She looked forward to watching them all, sandwiched between her two most favorite people in the world. 

• • • 

“My file’s officially bigger than Scylla’s,” Maddie told Godzilla as they neared the archipelago, eleven days after he’d first dropped her off with her human family. 

What’d you do this time? he asked, equal parts amusement and worry. 

She grinned sheepishly, even though he couldn’t see it. “I might’ve accidentally-on-purpose terrified a couple’a trespassers. They were drunk—like, really drunk—and honestly, I was only being a good person by making sure they didn’t drown themselves in the middle of the night.” 

He sighed mightily, but also encouragingly, so Maddie continued. 

“Don’t know how or why they decided our stretch of land was a good place to go swimming—in their underwear, too,” she giggled, remembering the look on her dad’s face, “but they did. So I snuck down there—it was so dark, G, they didn’t even see me on the beach—and got in the water.” 

She could feel his body tremble with the effort of not laughing. He probably had some idea of where this was going.

“I stayed beneath them, and kept poking their toes. I bet they thought it was a fish or something, but then I kinda tugged on one of their ankles. Not enough to pull them under! But enough to freak ’em out. So he stuck his face in the water even though he probably couldn’t see past his feet, and I made sure I was staring right up at him.” 

Godzilla was rumbling steadily now, completely and undeniably amused. 

“All that guy saw,” Maddie said proudly, having tested this very scenario out with Andrew just to confirm, “were my eyes and freckles, glowing up at him from the depths. I blew out some bubbles while he was staring, completely frozen, and I’m tellin’ you, G, I’ve never seen a normal human move that fast. Especially a drunk one. He was out of the water like a shot, and his friends were so confused until one of the girls looked down and started screaming bloody murder.” 

Oh, Pup, he chuckled. Living up to your new status, hm? 

She beamed. “Best thing is, Dad heard them and got some of the Monarch people from up the road to come check it out. So now there’s a bunch of soldiers standing on the beach, listening to these drunk, half-naked people babble about a creepy monster, and they pointed out to where they’d been, and if you’re thinking that I was poking just the top part of my face out so they could see my eyes again, you’re absolutely right.” 

And you got a new file entry, he guessed.

“And I got a new file entry!” she triumphantly shouted. “Titanus Madison strikes again!” 

The air hummed with the charge of his spines, and even though he couldn’t blast his star-fire into the air with her sitting on his head, the bright blue light shining in the golden light of the sunset was a perfect compliment to her cheering. 

• • • 

With Candy Corn nestled in her hair, Noodle stretched luxuriously across her lap, and Little Shadow curled at her side, Maddie couldn’t imagine a better way to spend her evening. The remains of her fire crackled nearby, and Godzilla’s deep breathing at her back soothed her like nothing else in the world. 

Mothra had returned, apologetic for causing everyone to worry, and though she didn’t explain—not to Maddie, at least—what had been going on in her head, she had reassured her that it wouldn’t happen again. She was tucked up against Godzilla, too. 

Gone were the quiet evenings. Now, she could hear Rodan snoring in his volcano. Scylla, who seemed fond of Bubble Island, could very faintly be heard screeching, only by virtue of how well sound carried across the still ocean. Methuselah’s slow, heavy footsteps in the Meadow ever so slightly sent trembles through the sand. Partially hidden by the grassy rise at the Cove’s entrance, she could see part of Behemoth as he wandered the outer beach. 

Kelpie poked his head out of the Cove and slowly dragged himself up to Maddie’s free side. 

She relaxed even more with a contented sigh, letting her eyes close. One hand alternated between dragging through Little Shadow’s fur and down Noodle’s velvety back, while the other traced absent designs on the slippery surface of Kelpie’s shell. Candy Corn briefly wiggled before settling down again. 

The sounds of life filled the archipelago, and as the sun finished setting, the stars bloomed brightly above them.

• • • 

Somewhere in the world, hidden from human eyes, is an archipelago—home to the old gods. Across its many islands, Titans roam freely amongst the smaller creatures. On one of these islands is a mountain range. In the mountains is a nest fit for a king. There is a rock wall that borders this nest, protecting it, shielding it. 

It is a wall of memories, covered in paintings and tally marks that span more than five years’ worth of life. The images creep up its stone face, just passing a quarter of its impressive height. At the top of the varied pictures sits the most recent addition, one that took weeks of careful work. 

In the center of the wall is a painting of a young girl. On either side of her is a person, a brother and a father. On either side of them is a Titan, two very different sorts of queens. And so the line goes, depicting every living Titan inhabiting the archipelago. 

There is one, however, who doesn’t stand in the line. Rather, curled above and around the three humans at the center, as the most dedicated line of defense, lies the King. 

It’s both a memory and a reminder, and marks a beginning and a promise. 

And above all else, it depicts a family.