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Chapter Text

In the grand scheme of things, jumping into another fight with Kong may have been an exceptionally irrational decision, considering the way the other had tried to wave him off to begin with. But it’s been a long week, there’s monsters stirring underneath them, and Godzilla needs to fucking kill someone. 

They’d separated on good terms, well enough that neither had sought the other out, anyway. A mutual decision, founded in the rubble after their last battle as they’d laid there together, bleeding and growling sore complaints at each other. Kong had been particularly smug, grunting something about your welcome that I came back, to which Godzilla had snapped at him gently, only mildly irritated by the comment. They’d settled in for the night there, Godzilla clocking out for a nap, Kong eyeing him curiously. They’d split up not long after. 

And yeah, maybe Godzilla has been a little on edge recently. There’s something stirring underneath his home, a nasty, foul power that makes him nauseous to even think about, but there’s a new energy thrumming through his veins and there’s fresh blood under his claws, and there’s absolutely nothing to worry about except keeping that power down below the surface of his Earth. 

Kong just had to show up and let out the loudest Alpha cry he’s heard in centuries and ruin everything. Fuck you, Kong. His evolution is fresh, there’s a huge chunk of metal attached to the other titan’s arm, and maybe Godzilla acts on autopilot when he dives at him. He’s been fighting all week, throwing himself after various sources of radiation to force a new change to handle this coming threat, that this battle is barely even a real battle. He’s not even sure he remembers most of it. 

The only reason Kong isn’t absolutely atomized is because Mothra awakens in the nick of time, wings spread to make herself larger, a beautiful, ethereal creature that makes them both pause. 

She cheeps at him, less real words and more an agitated noise to convey her frustration. He growls back, apologetic and polite to appease her. It must work, because she settles down on the half ruined pyramid and tucks her wings back in. Kong hauls himself back to his feet, grunting in annoyance as he dusts himself off. All three of them look at each other quietly, Mothra turning to him reproachfully with narrowed eyes. 

If she thinks he’s going to apologize, she’s dead wrong, but he does huff a tired sigh and turn to Kong, who is already glancing at him cautiously. 

“I hope you are not too badly injured,” He grits out, the closest to an apology he has ever given anyone outside of Mothra. She is still eyeing him critically from where she rests at eye-level. He does feel a certain way about nearly pulverizing the other Titan, especially in hindsight which is mildly embarrassing but he’s not about to admit that to anyone other than himself. 

Kong tilts his head with a slow, meaningful blink. It does not help the conflicting feelings. “I am not.” He decides in a low rumble. Godzilla nods in response. They both continue to look at each other, until Mothra clears her throat and they turn to her instead. 

“Quickly now,” She says, unfurling one wing to gesture at the vortex swirling through the sand. “They cannot be allowed to come here!” 

“The tribe has made it to Hollow Earth,” Kong explains, making his way over to the vortex. He stands in front of it, looks back at the two of them. “They are going to break through soon.”

“We must stop them below.” Mothra says agreeably. “You knew, yes?”

“Yes,” He echoes. “I have been preparing.”

She chirps in understanding. “Then we must go below. This is not a battle for your Earth.”

It is true enough. Godzilla cares little for the humans that plague his Earth, but they are his humans. He has no intention to allow the great apes any space to harm what belongs to him. He nods his assent, moving toward the vortex. Mothra spreads her wings to join them, as the three of them stare into the blue. 

“I apologize,” Kong says, a low timbre. “It is my fault they are so close to the surface.”

Mothra squeaks in protest, righteous and gentle as ever, but Godzilla just looks at him. The Titan looks right back, fearless and defiant as their last battle had ended as. 

“No.” Godzilla sighs, maintaining eye contact. It is not a challenge. “You are not at fault for searching for your tribe. They are my responsibility to handle.”

Kong stares at him, wide-eyed and baffled. It’s probably the kindest the King has ever been to him. “You… You are odd. We will handle them together.”

And oh, if that isn’t a lovely thought. Together. A team that will inevitably separate back into three. 

They will not speak again, until the next surface threat forces them. 

The top is a lonely place. 

“Together.” Godzilla echoes mindlessly. Kong smiles at him, fangs bared playfully. 

“Well now,” Mothra interrupts. “Lovely. Please hurry?”

“Yes,” Kong agrees. He gestures broadly to their entry point, smile wide but still playful. “You. I insist.” He offers a short, half-assed bow as he speaks. 

“Kind man.” Godzilla responds, allowing his mouth to curl into a sharp smile. Mothra stares at him, eyes huge as if she’d learned something new. He has no idea what she possibly could have discovered, but she feels gleeful. He almost probes, but the Queen flaps ahead to avoid him, diving into the vortex without preamble. He dives after her, Kong close enough behind him that he can feel the ape’s breath on his scales. 

He tugs on their bond, feeling impatient. She shakes him loose with a friendly air. The message is clear; survive. 

Perhaps she means talk later. He doesn’t ask. 

He has no plans to lose, regardless. 

Chapter Text

The aftermath sees the greatest change to Hollow Earth that the realm had seen in centuries, an atmospheric shift that shakes the very heart of the realm in an uncomfortable manner. A trading of power, an entire movement of a civilization, new alliances forged through combat, the type that makes farewells all the more difficult.

Skar King shatters into pieces when he hits the ground, an explosion of millions of tiny icicles as Kong straightens, panting for breath with his arms still outstretched in front of himself, fingers curled slightly from where he had been gripping the fallen primate. A chilling wind sweeps across the ruined city, a jutting reminder of their pressing situation and newfound ally. 

Everything aches. Mothra beats impatiently in the back of his mind, worried and angry as she searches for his location and status.

Godzilla will live, because he’s spiteful like that.

Shimo stands next to him, crouched in a way that signifies her hurt and desperation. She turns brilliant blue eyes on him beseechingly, pleading for action in a way that makes him feel a semblance of pity because, at the end of the day, Shimo was the unwilling soldier and he cannot hold her accountable for this in the way he would have held Skar King, had Kong not gone ahead and killed him so quickly.

Not that he minds. The fewer ancient enemies he has lurking about, the better. Shimo was never cruel to him or others prior to her capture. Given time, she might even be a willing ally.

Kong heaves a breath, drawing him back to himself as he turns away from Shimo, who nearly sags with relief. “Good. Gone.” The Titan hisses, curling and uncurling his fingers as the ice begins to melt. Kong turns to him, eyes slits and jaw set. “Better when dead.”

“Yes,” Godzilla agrees without hesitation. It draws a tentative smile from the ape. “Your tribe. Safe now.”

“Hm.” Kong huffs, glancing upward. “Sky is angry. Storm on the way.”

Ah. Shimo’s breath.

He glances at her, noting the way she studiously avoids his eyes, and turns his face upward. This is one of the more fixable messes they’ve been involved with recently. “Turn,” He instructs, and both Titans shift their faces toward the ground, studying the rubble intently.

A familiar warmth spreads across his back as the radiation builds under his scales, perhaps warmer than before, but familiar all the same. It tickles the back of his throat, building quickly before he allows it free, atomic energy shooting straight up, breaking through the storm in a fiery burst. The clouds disperse, a few stray droplets sizzling against his dorsal plates as they evaporate upon contact. 

“Oh,” Kong says, still a few long steps away. He sounds further than he really is. “Pretty.”

He supposes the explosion was pretty, a cascade of colors that rained down around them. But when he turns, there’s an odd look on Kong’s face, a soft smile and gentle eyes that are decidedly not looking at the sky. The smile remains, even when they make eye contact.

Shimo rumbles in agreement, though she is facing the sky with wide eyes. Distantly, he recognizes it’s probably been a long time since she’s seen the sky. 

Godzilla looks away first, an uncomfortable heat spreading through his veins faster than the nuclear energy has ever absorbed. 

Mothra flits around in the back of his mind, curious and ever present. 

“Where will you go?” He asks, ignoring his symbiotic partner in favor of turning back to Shimo, blinking at him worriedly. 

She pauses, as if to consider. Perhaps she’d never thought this far ahead. There’s an icy glint to her eyes that speaks of untold horrors from down below. “… I do not know,” She admits. “But I should like to return below. This is not my world.”

She’s not deferring to him, he knows. This is simply not where she belongs anymore. 

“If you wish.” He agrees, because really, she is not at fault, and he’d only jumped her to protect his own. He’s only minorly pissed off about the ice beam to the face that had taken an extra few seconds to burn off, but it’s not a simmering only barely below the surface type of rage, just a quiet pinprick of aggravation that’s easily swept aside. 

Kong points at Shimo, hand steady despite his injuries. “You come with me.” He says, but it sounds more like a question hanging in the air. “Moving the tribe up. No more lava.”

The ice wielder blinks as though startled, glancing between the two Titans like Godzilla was going to disagree. When he doesn’t, she visibly perks up and dips her head in agreement. “I should like that very much.” She expressed gratefully, to which Kong nods as he sits heavily along a chunk of ruined building. “After a rest, yes?”

“Yes,” Kong sighs, axe discarded somewhere behind them all. He doesn’t seem to be in a rush to find it. The little orange ape has since reappeared, attaching itself to Kong’s side and resolutely refusing to move. “Rest, then return.” He sneaks a glance over again, another smile in place. “Like last time.”

“Different. Did not try to kill you.” Godzilla protests, unwinding to lay gently upon the rubble as Shimo shakes herself out, settling down similarly and fairly close. 

“Did. Earlier.” Kong reminds him. 

“Ah. Doesn’t count.” Godzilla decides without missing a beat. “Too long ago. Forgotten.” 

“Memory loss? Humans call it concussion. Brain damage.” Kong informs him, leaning back against mounds of concrete. “Hit your head?”

“Hit everything.” He grouses. Shimo sighs apologetically. He grumbles to dismiss her. 

Kong frowns. “Hit by ice breath. Not hurt?”

He just shakes his head in response, a short twist before he settles in fully, wrapping his tail around himself. “Radiation melted. Mothra helped.”

Kong nods in understanding, a wise sort of gesture. “Glad. How is she?”

He reaches experimentally into his mind again, probing for his partner. She reacts almost immediately, lunging for it in a way that makes him think she might actually try to jump him when they next meet. She’s unhurt, if a little shaken. Kong’s human is with her, anxious and impatient to see the ape again. How sweet. The two of them are quite the sight together. “Safe.”

Chatter begins to pick up as the humans begin to pour out of hiding, tiny heads facing the sky as they point at the kaiju, though they wisely avoid getting too close. The ice remains scattered across the ruins, stubbornly refusing to melt even as the sun pushes back through the clouds. 

The ice clinging to life the way Skar King had clung to power all feels too fitting. Godzilla turns to avoid looking at too much of the ice. 

Unfortunately, that puts Kong directly in his line of sight, and the ape is observing him quietly. It feels less like a look and more like a judgment of some kind. Whatever he sees, he must judge alright because he nods to himself and then rolls onto his back to stare at the sky. 

Of the three of them collapsed on the battlefield, Godzilla thinks he made out alright. He’s probably got the fewest serious injuries, melting straight through Shimo’s breath and tanking strikes with thick plates and practiced ease. Walking this off will be much easier than the Ghidorah mech. 

Truthfully, he cannot wait to dive back into his oceans, eager to return to the depths to heal in peace. But neither Kong nor Shimo look ready to make the trek back to Hollow Earth, and he’s nothing if not an amazing ally, so he waits with them on the ground in silence. 

The last thing they need is the braver humans to start firing at them. He’s only staying to prevent that from happening. It would be extremely unfortunate to lose two tentative allies at once. 

“You go,” Kong says, interrupting his thoughts to draw him back to their present. The other is looking at him funny, head tilted slightly. “We are okay. Back to ocean.” He insists, gesturing toward the coast. “Heal better. Safer in water, yes?”

“Wait together.” Godzilla tells him, enjoying the way Kong appears thoroughly stupefied. “You leave when ready. I follow.”

Kong blinks at him. He’s sitting up now, blinking down at Godzilla, who resolutely refuses to even twitch. “Why? Safer in water. You dislike humans.” He asks, almost seeming mystified. 

Godzilla huffs, turns away so he’s not looking at the other Titan anymore. “Ally.” He grunts. “Stay together. Safe together.”

“Oh,” Kong’s voice is gruff. “Together, yes.”

Shimo squeaks, a shocked noise that draws both of their attention. Her eyes are wide and darting between them, the look on her face being that of genuine wonder. She schools her features quickly, but not nearly fast enough. Kong doesn’t seem to notice, busy tossing bricks around like pebbles, but Godzilla catches it, catches her eye and holds it questioningly. She just smiles, shakes her head at him as she stretches herself out. 

Mothra had done the same thing earlier. He sends her a questioning flare of annoyance, to which she quickly responds with a warm feeling of laughter. 

She’s terrible. 

They’re quiet again after that, resting somewhat peacefully together. The small ape is asleep next to Kong, completely unconscious on the remnants of the human city. Godzilla himself is slipping further and further into exhaustion, prolonging rest for weeks in favor of preparation for war. He’s going to sleep for centuries after this. 

He’s halfway out of it when there’s a slight pressure on his head, something warm and calloused. He growls in frustration, blinking his eyes open blearily to assess the situation. 

Kong’s hand rests near Godzilla’s head, in the ground between them. He smiles crookedly. “Better. Go home now.” He insists, ushering the group of them up. Shimo sighs in understanding while the orange ape whines in annoyance, burying his face in Kong’s leg. Kong has one hand on Godzilla’s shoulder, a warm weight that’s dropped as soon as they’re both upright. 

“Below?” Shimo clarifies, still rather droopy after the long life. 

“Below,” Kong confirms. Shimo nods, extending her head to the small ape, who chirps in delight and releases Kong in favor of attaching to her back. She begins to amble off with him, listening to him chatter in her ears. 

“Be safe.” Godzilla instructs, as they stand together over the ruined city. “Do not like below.”

Kong chuckles, an oddly comforting rumble. “Will be safe.” He says agreeably. “If you are.”

He nods in understanding. A mutual pact. Beneficial for both. 

Godzilla hates Hollow Earth. Not for lack of trying, because it’s a lovely place for monsters, but there’s no real ocean to swim in, and he avoids leaving the water whenever possible. It’s his home, after all. Being out of the water for this long is making him genuinely irritated. 

It’s flattering that Kong seems to recognize how little he enjoys being out of the water. Almost kind, in a way. It’s nice to be seen. 

“Visit.” Kong tells him gently, lifting one arm in farewell. “Lonely.”

He shrugs to the best of his ability, a gesture he’s seen Kong do around the humans. “Maybe. Bring tribe up. Then talk, yes?”

Kong nods. “Back to water,” he tells him more firmly, waving him back toward the coast again. “Heal. Goodbye.”

They separate there, two different directions across their shattered battlefield. Shimo waits not far away, only moving again as Kong approaches her. The giant ape glances back as Godzilla makes his way back into the water, turning slightly once the water is high enough against his scales to comfortably dive in. Kong nods again, a short, gentle gesture that underlies something he’s not ready to pick apart, so he doesn’t respond and takes the dive back into the depths. The water is refreshingly cool against his scales, soothing against the sharp, chilling burns from the ice. 

Mothra prods impatiently at the back of his skull, a wordless question that he nudges away in favor of sinking into the cooling depths. Her question is a question for later, he decides as his dorsal plates warm the water around him. 

He’ll check in on Hollow Earth after he rests for a bit. It’s one thing to handle surface threats, to handle his fellow kaiju on the surface, but there’s an uncomfortable feeling in his chest when he considers allowing his newest allies to traverse Hollow Earth alone, a former prisoner and one new to the land. What a terrible dynamic for leadership alone. Kong’s invitation to visit gives him room to decide when to go down, an open, lingering invitation that puts no pressure on either party. 

He does not want Kong on the surface, and it’s for intensely personal reasons. An entire species reliant on one kaiju is enough. Two kaiju is too much, gives humans too many opportunities. Kong underground means he is safe from human threat, too. 

Godzilla will visit Hollow Earth once he wakes up again.

Chapter Text

Spending too much time waiting for injuries to heal is useless. There comes a point in time by which things simply won’t heal properly, and that’s just how it goes. Any more time spent waiting is pointless and simply serves to slow him down. If he can move, he is fine. Survival is more important than comfort, especially when the most obnoxious of Titans resolutely refuse to mind their damn business. 

Luckily, Godzilla is a quick healer. Recovery tends to be fast when half the world cannot seem to fathom just how little they know of their weaponry. He breezes through a brief, two day long recovery period before none of the newer wounds ache and truthfully that’s as close to a win as he can hope for these days. 

It’s barely been two days since the battle with Skar King, but it feels like eons have dragged by. He camps in a variety of places seeking a comfortable climate, but nothing feels right and it’s beginning to really piss him off. The kaiju still awake on the surface seem to recognize that his temper is flaring, because as day two rolls around there's no kaiju activity on the surface beyond himself, which is an absolutely insane feat for a bunch of monsters that barely tolerate him and each other as is. 

Earth’s surface realm is at peace in the wake of Skar King. Godzilla is not. The irony behind it all is overwhelming. 

He can’t sleep. The ocean isn’t comfortable, the colosseum isn’t comfortable, his ocean sanctuary tunneled underneath isn’t comfortable, and he’s fairly positive it’s far too early to take a trip down to Hollow Earth to make sure everyone is settling in properly. Mothra has nothing to say, suspiciously quiet for being so recently reawakened. He suspects she’s busy helping the Iwi of Hollow Earth settle after the kaiju had thoroughly trampled their homes. Apparently she really hadn’t meant talk later, because she only really responds with vague busy signals.

There’s a certain feeling rumbling in his chest that he can’t quite name, but he knows it's his own and the thought of the giant ape ruling Hollow Earth makes it worse. There’s a knot in his chest that he cannot seem to untangle.

The surface is undeniably boring, especially since every single creature has decided it's finally time to let him have a vacation. Which is terribly inconvenient, considering Godzilla would do just about anything to brawl right now. There’s a residual tension lingering just under his skin, close enough to the surface that the mere thought of battle is enough to excite. 

There’s nothing wrong with the place the humans call Rome, it's warm enough that curling up inside the colosseum is good enough for a short nap and the local human population doesn’t seem overly concerned when he stomps through their city and invades their colosseum. Except it's too hot now and the bricks dig uncomfortably into his scales, and everything is wrong when it really shouldn’t be. 

He’d spent the previous week on edge, traveling across the planet in record time in search of radiation to boost his own power to face the tribe below without a moment of rest. He’s running on fumes and whatever adrenaline is still circulating through his veins. 

The humans in Rome no longer scatter when he exits the colosseum, merely look up and make broad waving gestures as he steps out and over their heads, heading back to the coast. Doing oceanic laps should help burn through some of this restless energy. 

He knows he’s being ridiculous, practically pacing the width of the planet because he’s bored. If Mothra were here, she would tell him to grow up, big guy, but Mothra is not here right now, she’s in Hollow Earth doing god knows what with just about all of his allies. 

If someone had told him, just a few years ago, that he’d be stressed out over the safety of that damn ape, Godzilla would have pulverized them for such a slight. As is, if someone told him that today he’d still pulverize them, but more so for being right this time around. It’s his business if he’s unusually worried for the other Titan, because he has every right to be concerned. The tribe has been buried below the surface for so long under Skar King’s iron role that it’s difficult to tell how they would react to new leadership, and a new home. Nothing has felt amiss, but anything could change. 

Godzilla is exhausted. The crash is beginning to catch up, slow moving but ever present. Should any Titans choose now to attack, he’s not fully confident in his ability to stop them, all things considered. He’s almost fully healed and frankly still pissed off over the whole situation, but the need for real, proper rest is catching up quickly. 

No colosseum, nothing is comfortable. The ocean is too cold, and his home ocean in Hollow Earth is too quiet. 

On day four, Mothra finally reaches out in greeting, letting him know that Hollow Earth has settled just fine. He feels bad momentarily, having been a little too distressed over it recently, but she steamrolls over his apologetic noises and pushes another message at him, this one much gentler. 

Kong asks about you. She tells him through a series of playful clicks. He says to visit soon?

Godzilla is suddenly very grateful he’s alone on the surface, because even underwater he can feel the way his scales heat immediately. 

So soon? He wonders back, really only half-awake. Busy here.

Lying. Mothra informs him flatly, clearly unhappy at his response. Tired. Feel it.

She’s a terror when she wants to be. Relentless in the face of his ability to brush matters aside, but he’s never going to let her know she’s usually right. That would make her worse. Bad enough she’s always acutely aware of his status.

He pushes her out of his mind with a tired huff, still lurking about the depths. There’s very little light in these waters, just the warm glow of his dorsal plates and the weakly filtered sunlight. The water is cold, almost jarring to be in. 

In any other moment, the temperature would be a comforting feeling, contrasting the radiation brewing inside his body. At this moment though, it’s almost unbearable. The sense of familiarity within these waters is strangely absent, leaving behind an empty void he cannot seem to fill.

Godzilla puts off checking in on Hollow Earth for three more sleepless days and nights before the urge to maim something is too strong and he’s forced to confront the unfortunate reality; He is not going to sleep on the surface. Mothra flits nervously around the back of his mind, concern palpable even realms apart. She’s going to kill him.

Eight days after the defeat of the Skar King, Godzilla makes his way into Hollow Earth.

It’s a vaguely uncomfortable trip, though not painful. He takes a familiar route down, splitting his surface ocean in half to make the journey, warning Mothra of his actions before taking the plunge through the vortex. He barely gets a satisfied click in response before the vortex is closing behind him and he’s being pulled between realms.

Hollow Earth is among Godzilla’s least favorite places to be. There’s a plethora of ancient enemies buried below the surface, and plenty more potential threats lying in wait. There is truly no shortage of enemies, but there is a severe lack of swimmable bodies of water. A lose-lose situation all around. 

The trip is short enough. He’s spat out fairly close to where the Iwi live, shaking himself loose of dirt and debris from the landing. There’s a warm feeling in the back of his mind, something he barely registers before something barrels into his side, soft and familiar.

“Hello,” Mothra chirps at him, attached to his arm. 

“Hello,” He sighs back, tension draining free from his muscles at her touch. The Queen squeaks back playfully, crawling up his arm to rest comfortably on top of his head. “What.”

“Tired, yes?” She chuckles, poking at his scales impatiently. “Bad. Told to heal.”

“Did heal.” He grits out, fighting the urge to shake her off his head. She might end him.

“Not true.” She reminds him. “Tired is injury, too.”  

Isn’t that a thought. He huffs in understanding, though doesn’t grace her retort with a response. She pats his head fondly as he turns. “Where–”

She interrupts with a clicky sort of giggle. “Kong in caves. With tribe, and Shimo. You will visit?”

“Should, here.” He remarks, refusing to let her see how her comment makes the knot in his chest loosen slightly. “You will come?”

“Yes. Of course.” She says, and he can hear the smile in her voice, despite not being able to see her face. “Humans are safe, here.” She informs him, as he shifts to make his way in the direction she points in. “Strong.”

Godzilla has no real opinions on humans. They are silly, little creatures with too much power and too little defenses. They awaken things they do not understand. They are not very intelligent in that regard.

But they haven’t tried to blow him up recently, and the humans in Rome have been fairly kind. The Iwi tribe in Hollow Earth has been working alongside him to protect the surface for centuries. There is no reason for him to hate them, annoying as they may be.

Not to say he likes them, either. His lack of hatred does not mean enjoyment. He’s been blown up a few too many times to truly form a kind opinion on them. Had they not bombed him while he was pulling Ghidorah into the depths, a lot of destruction could have been avoided. He’s not exactly forgiven them for that yet. 

Humans are not kind to the titans. They’re barely even kind to each other. But they belong to Godzilla, pathetic as they might seem. 

He recognizes almost immediately that getting up the side of the cliff would be hard even if he weren’t on the brink of sleeping for hundreds of years. It’s a losing battle, one he’s not brave enough to try as the both look up the side of the rock wall. 

“Hm.” Mothra says. “Did not think ahead. We wait.” And she settles down on his head again, clicking impatiently at nothing in particular. 

“Wait?” He repeats, baffled. “You fly. Wait?”

“Wait together,” She replies, spreading her wings happily before settling in again. 

And so they wait.

He’s in no rush to return to the surface and Mothra seems in no rush to return to the Iwi, so waiting a bit is truly no big deal. Godzilla is not scaling this rock wall on a good day, and today is quite the opposite. Mothra is content to rest on his head, soaking the warmth from both his scales and the sun without complaint. She’s more than capable of flying up to the cave in seconds, but it’s been a while since they’d been together. She’s only recently reawakened, after all. 

She chirps animatedly while they wait, fluffing her wings out occasionally to really impress upon him how important her talk is. She’s halfway through telling him about a creature that has recently tried going after another of its tribe when Kong swings down from above, blinking at them in bewilderment. 

“What,” Kong says, looking absolutely baffled. “… Waiting, why?”

“Hello,” Mothra says, sitting up on Godzilla’s head. “Talking.”

Their fellow Titan turns to look at him, now, smiling widely. “Hello, you.” He greets, gesturing with his hands as he speaks, always deliberate motions. “Visit?”

“Yes. Hello.” He answers, suddenly exhausted. “Tribe happy?”

Kong nods, glancing up. “Comfortable. Safe.” The ape turns to look at him critically, eyes narrowed. “Healed?”

Mothra titters, delighted. 

He’s going to kill both of them. “Yes.” He snaps, exasperated. Kong holds up his hands in appeasement. “Fine.”

“Lying?” Mothra clicks impatiently. “Bad, bad.” She turns to Kong. “Tired. Bad sleep. No sleep?”

He hisses at her. She whacks his face with one wing. 

“No.” He interrupts before she can continue her tirade. She huffs as he shifts toward Kong. “Healed?”

“Yes,” The other Titan says agreeably. “Fast heal here. Human help, also.”

Godzilla is no stranger to human assistance, considering he’s been nuked back to life one more time than he ever should have been. The sacrifice that man had performed was something he will not quickly forget. But the circumstances had been humanity’s fault. It’s a hard line to follow. 

But Kong’s people had always been humanity's protectors. It is not surprising that he has followed in their footsteps. 

“Kind,” Godzilla tells him, instead of all of that nonsense. Kong hums in agreement. 

It’s quiet for a moment as they observe each other. 

Mothra pulls herself up and takes off with a strong beat of wings, hovering in the air above them. “Shimo?” She questions, directed to Kong. 

He nods toward the sky. “Cave.”

Mothra tilts her head in understanding and shoots up with another beat, turning sharply to disappear into the cave, leaving them alone at the foot of the cliff. She feels happy, he notes when he reaches out curiously, even if she shoves him back with a firm stay signal. Disrespectful. 

“Tired?” Kong asks, breaking the silence. It was a comfortable sort of quiet. 

He narrows his eyes slightly. “Difficult week.” He answers truthfully. “Make sure you and tribe are safe. Dangerous.”

Kong frowns. It doesn’t suit him. “Sleep good, too.” He draws himself up and sighs, turning to walk away. He glances back when Godzilla does not follow immediately and lifts his hand. “Come. Show you.” 

Curiosity gets the better of him, and he trudges after the other Titan. Kong waits for him to fall into step before moving again, so they walk next to each other. It’s a slow walk, neither in any particular hurry. 

The creatures inside of Hollow Earth give the two of them a wide berth, likely concerned for their own safety. There’s a few ominous clicks in the distance, voices from beyond his visuals, but nothing leaps out of the undergrowth and nothing smells remotely dangerous. 

The scenery changes gradually from rocky and dry to a lush green landscape, with sprawling grasses and trees taller than they are. Kong takes the lead here, checking quickly to ensure he’s still following, spreading the grass with long, purposeful strides. The Titan is oddly quiet, observing Godzilla out of the corner of his eye as they march through the greenery. 

Eventually, the trees part into an opening where the sky is visible again, a stark blue to contrast the previous greens. Kong shifts out of the way slightly, turning to face him with a big smile as he nods ahead. 

There’s a lake in the center of the clearing, a wide, crystalline pool that ripples in the gentle breeze that blows through. There’s rocks scattered along the shore, glittering under the warm light from the sun. It’s quiet here, with the exception of waves lapping against the shore. 

Kong is still looking at him, a curious glint in his eyes. “Healing pool,” he says, without preamble. “Shimo says. Quiet area. No danger.” He gestures broadly to the lake. “Deep swim. Shimo test.”

And there’s that feeling in his ribs again. A warm that rivals the radiation he absorbs, lingering just under the surface, threatening to erupt. 

It takes him an extra few moments to formulate an answer, touched beyond words over the effort and also halfway into unconsciousness. The water is an inviting sight. 

Kong has yet to look away, hands clasped together almost nervously as he waits for a response. 

Truthfully, he has no idea what to say, or where to even begin. He’s teetering on the edge of sleep as is, turning to face Kong. The ape blinks at him, eyes wide. 

“… Perfect.” He says, instead of all the feelings inside his chest. The relief that splashes across Kong’s features are palpable. “Pretty… Thank you.”

Kong exhales through his nose, turning to look at the water to break the eye contact they’d been holding. “Yes. You are welcome.”

It’s Godzilla’s turn to stare, awash with a sudden, terrible feeling of fondness that entwines his chest tightly. The ache has faded into a steady warmth, soft enough to ignore if not for the pounding behind his ribs. Kong appears pleased, eyes crinkling in the corners as he observes the water. 

Godzilla is going to be violently ill. 

Rather than voicing anything else he makes his way to the water, reaching out to carefully graze Kong’s arm with one hand, careful to avoid scratching him, before dropping the touch to step into the water. Kong does not follow, merely watches him with an even bigger smile than before. 

The water here is warmer than the surface, completely clear and comfortably deep. If Shimo approved it, it has to be deep enough for him, considering the sheer size of the Titan. And it’s more than deep enough to submerge him entirely, light penetrating all the way to the bottom, covered in crystalline structures that reflect the light into the water. Colors dance around him, shades of pink that rival his dorsal plates to greens that match the trees above. 

It’s a beautiful place. There’s smaller kaiju in the water, curious enough to approach but docile in a manner not seen on the surface. They flit in and out of sight, never fully stationary but not once with ill intent. 

He’s still tired, an exhaustion that sinks further into his bones the longer he battles it off, but things feel good here, the very atmosphere gentler than the surface has ever been. 

He could sleep for centuries. 

The false sun is beginning to set by the time he hauls himself out of the water, shaking the droplets off as he exits. Kong is seated on the shore, watching him with a soft expression. He pats the ground next to him with a gentle rumble, and Godzilla is already mostly asleep. 

The king pads over slowly, lowering himself onto the ground with a huff that disrupts the sand. Kong chuckles, lifting one arm to allow him to shuffle in closer, draping the arm along his back, careful to avoid his dorsal plates. Godzilla grumbles in response, curling his tail tightly against himself on his empty side. 

The sun sets before them, painting the sky an array of pinks and oranges that dance across the water, illuminating the entire clearing with vibrant colors. The dusk seems to glow around them. 

“Pretty,” He rumbles through closing eyes. 

“Yes,” Kong agrees, voice undeniably soft. His voice should always be soft. The violence has never suited him. 

The surface has many wonders, beautiful forests and expansive oceans. 

They pale in comparison to this.

Chapter Text

The first sense to return with the sun is touch, the recognition that the sand is warm beneath his body and the amorphous soft mass pressed against his left side is just as warm, if not more so. His scales are heated nicely, absorbing the heat into themselves, mixing it with the radiation to put him back under. It is refreshingly warm here, no wayward chills from the breeze that pushes against his back. 

It takes time for the rest of his senses to wake, the chirps of monsters far away to the rustling of the trees, the sharp smell of the grass in contrast to the musky scent of life. Memories fade in slowly, breaching the surface of a lake and watching the sunset through sleepy eyes. The world is no longer muted, exhaustion seeping from his very being overnight. He’s functionally awake now, comfortably rested but reluctant to move away from the warmth next to him. 

It’s out of his hands when the mass of warm fur shifts slightly, jostling him slightly when it takes its arm back from where it has been strewn over his back. It hisses in apology when he grunts in annoyance, settling in next to him. It’s quiet, so quiet he finds himself nodding off again. But fate has other ideas, for the creature next to him shifts again, this time more drastically. 

“Stop,” Godzilla sighs, cracking open his left eye to glare. The sun is rising, red and pink against the rest of the sky. “No. Still.”

Kong huffs a laugh, decidedly not listening. “Morning. Sleep good?”

“Better, stop.” Godzilla tells him, shutting his eye to flop back down against the ape, who chuckles in response. 

The other runs a hand down his side, high enough to be considered his back but careful to avoid touching his dorsal plates. “Up? Plans.”

He grumbles in annoyance, blinking the last dredges of sleep out of his eyes to glance up at the other. “Plans?”

“Shimo, me. Explore.” Kong explains, gesturing to the air as he speaks. His other hand remains resting on Godzilla’s back. He does his best not to preen under the attention. “Hear noise. Bad.”

That catches his attention. He shifts into a seated position, turning to face the Titan. “Bad?” He repeats, curious. If something is provoking a response from both Shimo and Kong, they must find it serious enough to consider searching for. Neither of them have been particularly interested in Titan-related combat, so the fact that both of them agree is concerning. 

The fact that Godzilla hasn’t heard anything alarming feels odd, but he keeps that to himself. Some secrets are meant to be kept. 

“Bad.” Kong agrees wisely as his hand falls away. “Check. Tribe safe.”

If Shimo deems it important enough to track down, it’s probably a big enough threat that she wants to handle it before it comes to her home. Interesting, considering she’s always been mildly pacifistic, enunciated after her stint with Skar King. She’s never shown explicit interest in seeking out fights or thrills, even prior to her capture. Seeking them out has never been in her nature, strong as she’s been. 

Godzilla is probably at fault for that, though. Leaving Shimo trapped downstairs with the false king was his decision, hasty as it had been to protect both himself and the surface. Perhaps she’s reacting quicker to avoid familiar outcomes. 

Or maybe she’s just going along with Kong so he doesn’t die. It could very well be that. 

“Help?” He offers carefully, curious about the situation. “Can.”

Kong shakes his head. “No. Rest.” He insists, patting the ground. The touch is so light it barely shifts the sand beneath them, but the gesture is there all the same.

Godzilla would have been perfectly fine tagging along, truthfully. He’s still itching for a fight he’s apparently never going to get, but the thought is nice enough. He grumbles in mild annoyance, shifting enough so that Kong can stand. The ape does not stand quite yet, remains seated next to him as the sun rises slowly over the horizon. Waves lap against the shore, a soothing, familiar sound he has come to associate with home. Sunlight stretches its arms through the trees, prodding gently at him to push him into wakefulness. The sky is alight in shades of red. With a tired grunt he shakes his head to clear the fog, turning fully to look at Kong, who blinks at him patiently. Clearly he’s in no rush.

It’s fairly quiet as they both stand fully, stretching their muscles back to life for the trek back. Godzilla reaches out tentatively in search of Mothra as Kong begins to pick his way back into the treeline, but his symbiotic partner is strangely quiet. It’s almost unnerving.

“Stay,” Kong tells him with a sigh when he follows. “To rest. Tired, hm?”

“Slept well. Awake.” He responds, keeping his tail low and still to avoid taking out any of the fauna. It’s a lovely place, no need to be careless. If Kong put in that much effort to locate it, the least Godzilla can do is be respectful of it. “Want to see you off.” It’s probably the most coherent sentence he’s ever strung together in common tongue. 

Kong pauses briefly, looking at him with a curious glint in his eyes, but he simply nods with a smile that’s becoming far too familiar and turns to continue walking. 

There’s an odd feeling rumbling around in his chest, different from before in a way that feels dangerous. Spending time with Kong makes his chest feel tight in a warm way, familiar as if it had always been at home there. This feeling is colder, with an icy grip on his lungs that makes it difficult to breathe. He’s not entirely sure what it is, but he desperately needs it to go away so he can focus on walking and not breathing.

Hollow Earth is still his least favorite place to be, but flanked by Kong it feels less threatening. There’s still no ocean, but there is a beautiful lake, filled with crystalline reflectors that best the polar ice in beauty. The fake sun rises and falls. It is just like the surface. 

He’s going to take that to the grave, though. Mothra finding out would make her insufferable.

Kong takes the lead again, though he waits a moment long enough for Godzilla to fall into step beside him, rather than walking ahead. His fur seems to glow in the early morning light, a darkness that rivals the depths of the sea. It’s pretty. It feels like home.

The sun is still rising as they break free of the trees with minimal damage, thanks to Kong’s careful path selection. Grass fades back into dirt and rock as they tread across it, a comfortable silence encompassing the air. There’s nothing much to say, even if Godzilla has more he wishes he were able to say. In a perfect world, there would be no language barrier. But this world is far from perfect, even if the King of Hollow Earth looks remarkably content to take the long way back to his cave. There are no other Kaiju in their way, though a few flap above them at a safe distance, calling warnings to each other as they flee. The dirt path gives way to jagged rock as they approach the mountains again, the home stretch of their adventure.

He’s sad to see it end so soon.

But Kong takes the protection of his tribe very seriously, and Godzilla respects the drive to keep them safe. He feels a certain way about the surface-bound Titans, even if he thinks he might kill Rodan one of these days. But that means he’s going to kill Rodan, not anyone else. Rodan is his in the same way the humans are. The way Kong feels about the tribe is surely different, but the logistics are the same- the tribe is his, so he takes care of them. 

They’re nearing the mountain, opening to the cave visible, when Godzilla finally tracks down the few words he wishes to say.

“Slept well.” He tells the other, keeping his eyes pointedly on the mountain ahead, even if he can feel the way Kong turns to give him his full attention. “Thank you.” He pauses briefly, searching for the word he knows to be true. He’s said it already. “… Kind.”

Kong beams at him, a bright smile that looks right at home when he turns to see him. The ape looks warm, inviting. “You are welcome. You are… Strong. Water. Comfortable.” He clears his throat, an awkward sound that invertebrates through the rocky cliff faces. “Safe, yes?”

He is most safe in the water, yes. The majority of battles take place on land, and while he’s by no means helpless on the ground, he’s a million times better submerged. There’s safety in the water that there isn’t on land, which is why he prefers to make his move before anyone makes landfall. 

There’s still no ocean in Hollow Earth, but the lake holds more meaning to him than words can ever describe. 

Because he could have survived just fine without it. But Kong respected his preference for water, recognized his bone-deep exhaustion without a real word about it, and took care of him. The lake was just part of it. 

“Yes,” He echoes. Kong is still smiling. “Shouldn’t have. You. Kind.”

Kong waves him off with a friendly rumble, turning to look at the sky. “Tired. Need safe. Water, safe. Me, safe.” 

And he’s right. Ever since reuniting, there’s a pressure lifted off Godzilla’s chest, a heavy weight that has only grown with each passing day. It’s easier to breathe, now. 

“Yes,” He agrees again. “Safe.” And the word feels heavy on his tongue. 

Kong opens his mouth to say something else, when there’s an explosive cry from above and Mothra tears out of the cave, spreading her wings to their full length sharply before plummeting down to meet them. She catches herself with a powerful beat, holding her position slightly above them as she speaks in a rush. 

“Bad noise!” She tells them, shaking her head. “Shimo go to see. Not back!” She’s clearly agitated, wings quivering despite her immense strength. 

Kong growls, all prior gentleness dissipating behind a stormy exterior. “Bad where?”

“Under. Another below!” She tells him urgently. “Went fast. This sun. Tribe safe. Find?”

He nods immediately, turning back to Godzilla with an odd look in his eyes. “Be back.”

They’re both uneasy about this, he realizes. Kong senses something is amiss. Godzilla senses nothing at all. Whatever it is, it’s a venture into the unknown. 

“Go with?” Godzilla repeats the prior offer, almost pleading for a different answer. 

“No. Go back. Safe.” Kong tells him, stepping forward to close the distance between them. “Goodbye.”

“Safe,” Godzilla instructs the other fiercely. “Call. Will hear. Listening.”  

Kong nods, that odd shimmer ever present. And then suddenly he’s very close, nose-to-snout with warm eyes and a small smile. Godzilla can feel his breath. “Will come home.” He says gently. 

There’s a flurry of conflicting feelings in his chest. The weight is settling into his chest again, a warm flame tucked inside of his ribcage that threatens to erupt at the distance. There’s an uncomfortable touch of something akin to fear that lingers in the back of his throat when he nods wordlessly, allowing the other to withdraw first, and with a comforting smile. 

But this is an unknown threat. Something Shimo deemed important enough to handle before it got any closer, even if that meant doing it alone. She’s not stupid. Something is badly wrong. 

But if Shimo fails, there’s thousands of portals back to the surface, and just as many leading to scattered pockets of Hollow Earth. This is not a joint mission between them. Godzilla has to return to the surface. It was never even an option, as much as he would beg there to be another one. 

Mothra chitters impatiently, landing smoothly on his head as Kong turns to begin the climb back to the cave, presumably in search of his ax. She nudges a curious thought toward him, of which he pushes away without even entertaining it. 

“Home?” She questions, wings tucked close. 

He nods in agreement, conscious of keeping her steady. “Yes, up.” He says, turning back in the direction of the original vortex he’d entered through. 

“Will stay.” Mothra tells him, steely promise behind her words. “Be safe.”

He repeats the words back to her as she takes flight again, shooting up into the air as Kong leaps out of the cave, slamming into the ground with a powerful quake, ax in hand. There’s a sharper glint in the Titan’s eye that wasn’t there before as he swings the ax up and onto his shoulder to rest. There’s a different air to him, completely devoid of the soft ape from the morning.

Mothra squeaks a farewell as he turns and makes his way back out. He can feel eyes on his back as he walks, but he is careful to keep his eyes forward. There’s a teasing thought pushed to him from his partner, a fun little poke that he decidedly ignores in favor of diving back through the vortex, effectively silencing it. 

The trip back to the surface is much faster than down, given how well he knows the surface. There’s only a few paths he needs to know, and topside is his domain. The trip is short, and much less nauseating than before, but that might have something to do with the warmth brewing in his chest. There’s an uncomfortable tension in his muscles that fails to dissipate even after he’s spat back into the ocean, so lost in thought he tumbles through the water before catching himself. Being submerged after spending the night in sand is a welcomed feeling, shaking the sand free from his scales without much of a fight. 

He takes a brief moment to catch himself up, taking stock of the other Titans surface-bound to ensure no changes. As far as he can tell, everyone is still secluded, and there’s no immediate warnings flashing in his brain to say otherwise, but there’s also no warnings over the weird noises the Hollow Earth group has been hearing, so he’s not entirely confident in it right now.

It’s an uncomfortable realization that he cares for those underground now. He’s never been particularly fond of any other Titans, save Mothra even if it feels reluctant at times, but Shimo and Kong both wormed their way through his prickly defenses. He thinks maybe Kong has made himself a little too at home in his chest, because there’s a seizing worry that refuses to fade, even if Kong is more than capable and Shimo is likely with him and even more capable. 

He’s going to be sick with worry, and the realization makes him want to be sick even more. What a terrible thing to notice.

The jarring end to a beautiful morning is still concerning in multiple ways. Godzilla has sensed nothing. The Iwi have sensed nothing. They are entirely in the dark. He can almost feel the lingering touch of Kong’s fur against his side. 

He thinks about the lake, a hopeful thought. The crystals reflect against his eyelids, bright and beautiful through the clear water. The ocean is deep and unforgiving in front of him, familiar as it may be. There is no one waiting on shore for him. 

The ley lines have nothing to say when he peers into them, Mothra quiet across their bond. The surface is quiet, even as worldly energy thrums through his veins.

The lake will wait for them to return. 

He can nearly taste the concern building in his ribs, worry plaguing his mind even as he travels through the oceans, taking stock of the various vortexes hidden within it. There’s no noticeable reason for concern, and he’s terribly tempted to return to Hollow Earth, but if whatever-it-is escapes both Shimo and Kong and trips its way upstairs, they’re in for a world of trouble. Better to ensure he’s ready and waiting for the worst, even if he longs to return below.

Ah. There’s a pang of something in his chest at the thought. 

Godzilla does not like Hollow Earth, but he likes Kong very much. The realization is sharp, swift, and in the middle of the ocean, found staring into the swirling blue vortex.

There is no real “home” waiting for him. Godzilla’s cavern deep inside of the Hollow Earth realm had been thoroughly destroyed in the blast that had saved him. The surface holds to home to return to. Hollow Earth feels inaccessible. 

When Mothra describes home, she talks about the Iwi, about Hollow Earth, about him.

An interesting thought. 

There’s an explosion of something across the ley lines, ripping him from his thoughts and back into the water. The surface is suspiciously quiet, but there’s something trembling inside of Hollow Earth. It’s a faint signal, weaker than anything he’s ever felt, but it’s there, and he’s found it. 

He breaks the surface for a moment, the sun high above him. It’s not nearly as warm as the lake. There’s familiarity, but no safety. 

He’s still itching for a fight, even if he’s a bit more rested. The urge to return grows stronger with every passing second. 

It’s barely seconds after the initial boom across realms when Mothra is reaching out, quiet and careful when she informs him everything has settled in Hollow Earth, for now. Everyone is safe. Shimo has returned, though she apparently wants to talk to him.

Something isn’t quite right, though.

Kong says to come back, is the thought Mothra pushes to him as he turns sharply when something splashes through the depths. 

Whatever he finally latched onto is not subdued. It’s quiet, unbelievably so, but it's there and it’s moving. Something is very, very wrong. 

He dives back down into the water when something shifts again, deep below the surface. It’s a short trip down, breaking into the darker zones with ease. This is his world, but the depths of the ocean belong to someone else.

Na Kika blinks at him when they come face-to-face, bewilderment clear in their gestures. 

Na Kika should be hibernating. 

They float there together, both in different stages of confusion, before Na Kika speaks.

“Awake,” The Titan says, hints of confusion evident in their voice. It’s scratchy from disuse. 

“How?” Godzilla asks, bewildered in every sense of the word. The water around them is cold. 

“Bad noise,” Na Kika tells him, concern reverberating through their voice. “Did you hear?”

“Now. Not before.” Godzilla answers. “Hollow Earth.”

If Na Kika could frown, they would be. “No.” They say. “Here. Water. Did you hear?”

He puts Na Kika back into hibernation immediately after, a precautionary move. Na Kika has a history of acting out, even if they’ve been docile in recent years.

Shimo sensed it long before he did. Whatever it was woke Na Kika from hibernation. There’s something wrong, and Hollow Earth is at the center of it. 

The concern from before comes back full force. Everyone still inside of Hollow Earth. He’s not sure when Kong became so important to him, but the Titan is nestled within his chest at all times, a constant thought. He’s varying degrees of worried for Mothra and Shimo, but his biggest concern is Kong. 

There’s plenty of work to do. The first course of action is to ensure the rest of the Titans remain in slumber. The second is to figure out what the fuck is going on. The third is to maybe take a nap. Hopefully take a nap. Preferably a nap with a certain King. 

He’s really never slept better than he did just last night.

The ocean is darkening as the sun sets, but it’s nothing like the night before. The sky darkens quickly, no trace of color in the air as he breaks the surface again for breath. 

Okay? Mothra asks, tentative in a way. She’s concerned, hovering against the edge of his consciousness. 

Check titans. He tells her. She sends an affirmative signal back. Will come back after.

Kong is worried. Mothra tells him. Hurry. Making Shimo annoyed.

It’s enough to lighten his mood, if only a little.

He knows Kong thinks about him, if only because Mothra does not let him forget. But he finds himself thinking of the ape an alarming amount in return. And they’ve become overwhelmingly fond thoughts.

He amends the list to add on a final act: figure this out.

The water is cold when he dives back below, dorsal plates lighting the sea in shades of pink as he makes his way to the next location. Radiation simmers below the surface, heated against his scales, but there’s a different kind of warmth that lingers in his chest at the thought of Kong’s reciprocated concern. 

Being cared for is complicated.

He’s going to kill whatever is making that noise, and then he’s going to handle whatever these feelings are.

Chapter Text

The good news is that Na Kika is the only Titan who seems to have been awoken. The rest of the Titans are varying degrees of terrified when he whips through their homes, especially after news spread about how he’d jumped Tiamat. Maybe not his finest moment, but a moment nonetheless. 

The bad news is that Na Kika was woken and next time, it might not be someone so recently neutral.

Godzilla has no idea what to do. Whatever had woken the Titan was long gone, found only in bare traces of oddly misplaced sand along the ocean floors. There’s no sign of whatever it had been, and he’s filled with a weak hope that perhaps it was an accidental awakening that had nothing to do with an emergence. All things considered, he counts himself fortunate that there was no mass awakening of Titans to deal with, because he would have been ill-prepared to handle it. He’s barely awake as is, and that’s after a nice nap on the beach with…

He’s terribly worried about Kong. It’s not even disguised as concern for Hollow Earth, or the tribe settling in safely. No, Godzilla is concerned for the safety of Kong in light of recent events. 

The King of Hollow Earth is no pushover, and he respects the other titan’s immense strength. But there’s a concern building restlessly in his chest that he can’t quite quell, not after their abrupt separation after Shimo went off on her own to hunt an invisible threat. 

And it’s still an invisible threat. 

What exactly is happening here? There’s no answer, of course. He’s left to puzzle the pieces together on his own, and he’s not keen on returning to Hollow Earth before figuring this out. Na Kika claims something is on the surface with them, something powerful enough to have broken Godzilla’s control, and Godzilla believes them, to an extent. Na Kika has shown no interest in starting anything, so he has no reason to disbelieve them. But it’s good to err on the side of caution. 

A human fleet joins him at some point, making the global trip alongside him. It would be laughably easy to lose them, to dive below the waves and use an oceanic vortex to shortcut the trip, but the humans sometimes prove useful. So he lets them tag along. 

Mothra would be thrilled to see him being kind to them. Kong probably would be too, given how close he is with the human child from Skull Island. 

But neither of them are here. He’s completely alone in this. 

Having allies is only useful when they’re available. 

He doesn’t doubt for a second that Mothra would come if he called. What concerns him is that he thinks Kong might come too, and that’s too big a risk to take. He wants to keep Kong out of this, at least until he’s able to figure out what’s happening. He doesn’t want to concern the other Titan any more than he already has. 

It’s bad enough that Kong knows he has terrible sleeping habits. He doesn’t need the other Titan getting on his ass about whatever this is, too. 

Truthfully, of all the surface-bound Titans, Rodan is one he doesn’t mind so much. He has history with the other, plenty of fights between themselves, but just as many alliances forged over a greater threat. Rodan, for the most part, knows better than to start acting up. 

Which is probably why Rodan shrieks in surprise when he bursts out of the water, crashing heavily onto the shore. The other is flapping wildly above him, head tilted in bewilderment. “What?!” He squawks, clearly pissed off. “Away!”  

Godzilla would desperately love to be anywhere other than here, but he owes the planet a quick check to ensure nothing wise is wrong. He growls in annoyance when the heat radiating off of Rodan becomes too much, an overbearing pressure against his rapidly drying scales. “Check. Heard?”

Rodan clicks in mild aggravation. “Call? Yes. From water. Not respond. Why?”

Interesting. So it was heard by more than one. 

Why didn’t he hear it until too late, then?

Rodan fully tilts his head to the side with a sort of scoff. “You missed?”

Godzilla growls again, frustrated and tired. He’s chasing something with an entire planet headstart. There’s no possible way for him to catch up, even if he knew what he was hunting. “Yes. Call, where?”

“Down.” Rodan informs him with a grumpy huff. “Deep below. Do you hear?”

There’s nothing but silence as far as his ears can strain for. Water laps against the shore impatiently around them as they wait with bated breath. There’s no change. It’s quiet, almost too quiet. Silence is where things have gone wrong. 

The Earth suddenly feels very small. 

Rodan huffs at him, a harsh breath of warm air against his scales. “Below. Do you hear?” He repeats, much more forcefully. Each word is accentuated with a beat of powerful wings. 

He does not hear. There is nothing in the water, nothing moving out of place that he can sense. There’s something terribly wrong here, and conversing isn’t helping him understand. 

“Below!” Rodan squawks, clearly at his wits end. There’s a burst of angry fire from his beak that he swallows down immediately. Godzilla just watches, fascinated. “Not water, now. Below. Below.”

It clicks. Below. It’s inside of Hollow Earth. 

Some type of realization must show on his face, because Rodan’s eyes sharpen in agreement. “Yes.”

Not an emergence, then. Something is moving between realms with an ease Godzilla can only imagine. Which means it has been awake and active for far longer than they’ve known. Not an emergence, because that already happened.

He searches his memory for answers, tears through decades of incidents for any sort of clue. There’s nothing he can remember that looks remotely like an emergence, nothing that has screamed recent threat with the exception of the mechanical monster and the beast that possessed it. The surface has been ominously quiet for a long time. 

He narrowly avoids hitting Rodan out of the air with his tail when he swings around to make his way back into the water. Rodan shrieks in outrage at the act but does nothing to retaliate, just lands carefully to watch him return to the waves. The water welcomes his return, cool against overheating scales. Rodan calls a farewell as he dives back under. It almost feels final. 

The human fleet is lost somewhere during his trip back out, after he flashes a warning glow at a ship that careens just a tad too close. They pull back, drop speed, and Godzilla heads into the depths alone and unencountered. There’s no predator in the sea that dares to come close to him, particularly so when he’s glowing in frustration, a vibrant pink light erupting through the slowly darkening water. 

No emergence. No recent events that should have been able to awaken a beast powerful enough to slip through the boundaries between realms unnoticed. It could be alien, like the three-headed beast he’d nearly died fighting. But nothing worth noting had entered the atmosphere in centuries, nothing living had ever survived the trip down sans the Zero. Living energy would have been detected immediately as the threat it is. 

He hates the paranoia that’s starting to sink in. The reality of the situation is heavy and tough. There’s something that is powerful enough to hide itself from him, something powerful that likely originated on Earth’s surface, considering Shimo’s immediate response. If he can’t sense it, it could be anywhere. And most of the hibernating Titans are far less obedient than Rodan or Na Kika. If the wrong one were to be awoken…

Bad. He pushes to Mothra, a sense of urgency behind the act. News?

She’s quiet for a bit, but her response is still swift. Come. She insists. He can practically see the way she’s flapping her wings nervously. Talk. Down. 

A physical conversation needs to be had. They must have discovered something in Hollow Earth’s lower levels. 

He’s well and truly worn by this point. The urge to make a stop to sleep in the sun inside the Colosseum is overwhelming, but there’s too much work to do. The Earth cannot protect itself. The humans are not fit for combat. They would sooner destroy their planet than protect it. No, Godzilla is alone in this. 

It’s a haunting thought. There has never been a permanent fixture of alliance. Coexistence is not the same. 

He is alone in this world. Mothra and Kong remain below, living amongst their own kind and protecting a civilization that is capable of empathy and rational thought. The Iwi do not wish him harm like the topside humans do. Another ally with no meaning. 

Something is shifting around him. There’s something else at play here.

He decides, floating in the darkening water, that the only solution is to continue the search, no matter where it takes him. Another amendment to his list of things to do, but this one is starting to feel uncomfortably final.

Back? Mothra echoes again, more of a statement than a question. They have to discuss. 

He checks the leylines one last time, searches desperately for any sign of anything else awakening, but there is nothing. The Earth-bound Titans are quiet in the face of his hunt. There is nothing else amiss. Na Kika is silent, submerged and asleep. 

Back, he agrees tentatively. She chirps fondly in response before falling silent as well, leaving him to his thoughts. 

There is no use keeping anyone in the dark. The situation with Na Kika will be glossed over, but Rodan hearing something is worth noting. He trusts Rodan… to an extent… to tell the truth, and even with their battle-woven history, Rodan has been his ally countless times. 

Urgh. Mothra is going to love this.

There’s a wormhole just a few clicks away, one that should spit him out fairly close to Kong’s cavern home. He adjusts course to make his way toward it again, using the faint glow of his plates to light up the water for better visibility. The sun is gone, vanished over the horizon, leaving the moon to light the way. Light dances through the water in curtains, leading him closer to the wormhole that sends curls of glittery blue through the water. 

Another short trip down and through the vortex lands him on the edge of a treeline, between the soft greenery and the harsh rocky fields ahead. The caves are not too far, especially not when a burst of color penetrates his field of vision and a soft mass slams imto the side of his head, very nearly disorienting him.

“Hello,” He says, exasperated, reaching up to peel the mass off his scales.

“Hello,” Mothra chirps, pleased with herself as she goes willingly, just to escape his claws and land gently on the crown of his head. “Welcome.” She adds, gripping his scales tightly as he turns to amble towards the jagged cliffs in the distance. “Talk. Much.”  

“Hm,” Is his tired response, avoiding the sharpest boulders carefully. Heavy as he may be, digging sharp splinters out of his scales is difficult on the best of days. He’s looking forward to a very long hibernation after all this clears. Mothra clicks worriedly at his lackluster response. “Noise?”

She huffs. “No. Quiet, since. Worry.”  

She’s worried for the same reasons, then. The silence is unnerving, especially to two creatures that have been alive for so long. Shimo’s antagonistic response was likely borne of a similar concern, having been alive even longer. 

Perhaps the threat is old enough that Shimo remembers its awakening?

He stores the question away, ignoring the sharp prod Mothra sends his way at the thought. She’d likely had the same thought. They truly are fated.

“Kong worries.” She tells him, effectively changing the subject as he picks his way across the dusty terrain. “You. Alone.”

It’s a foolish concern to hold. He almost tells her this, but changes his mind at the way her voice sounds. She seems genuine, kind, and there are very few monsters that regard him in that tone. Kong is one of them now. 

“Will talk.” He says instead, because Mothra deserves his honesty after everything they’ve been through together. “Was… Concern.”

The noise she lets out sounds like a laugh. He very nearly shakes her off, kindness be damned. “Please. Shimo… Impatient. Tired.”

So the ageless beast is tired of Kong’s shenanigans. He vaguely wonders what possibly could have driven a gentle creature to the brink of insanity. Perhaps it’s better if he doesn’t know. 

There are more pressing matters at hand. 

Something within the leylines shifts abruptly, an awful feeling of dread washing over him. He glances up, hoping to catch sight of his partner, but Mothra just clicks in warning as they approach the caves. 

“Felt?” He asks her, pausing below the entrance. 

She cocks her head. “From you. Yes.”

There’s no chance to say anything else to her, because something explodes out of the cave above them, slamming into the rocky ground with a loud boom. The dust clouds that form quickly part when Kong waves them aside, blinking dirt out of his sight as he turns to them with wide eyes. 

“You!” Kong hollers, a hint of delight in the edge of his voice as he closes the distance with a few short steps, faces uncomfortably close. He can feel the ape’s breath on his snout. Mothra chitters in surprise. “Back! Safe?”

“Safe,” He echoes, standing very, very still. If this is an intimidation tactic, it isn’t going to work! “You?”

Kong nods eagerly, breath warm against his scales. “Yes.” The Titan looks well, no sign of visible injury. They’re standing close enough that even a scrape would be visible, regardless of the smell of blood. There’s a kind glitter in the others’ eyes, a soft smile curling on his face. The only visible sign that something is wrong is the way his shoulders sag slightly, a telltale sign of exhaustion rather than pain. Godzilla is overwhelmingly grateful for victories, no matter how small.

Mothra clicks low in her throat before either can speak again, gesturing up. They both follow her movement, tilting their heads up toward the moon strung high above. Shimo is peeking over the ledge of the cavern, eyes bright as her tail waves a greeting behind her head. Godzilla feels his tail curl upward slightly in response. She looks fine, if a little tired, similar to the way Kong is holding himself. 

“Up!” Mothra insists, taking flight again to join Shimo on the ledge. She lands safely on Shimo’s back, wings settling carefully on her back. 

Kong turns to look at him again, a playful look spreading across his face. “Come,” He says, spreading one arm widely behind himself. The ape steps back slightly, creating a gap between them. Godzilla finds himself missing the warmth of dark fur at the distance. 

The other Titan turns fully this time, taking several more distancing steps before he turns his head to meet his eyes, a gentle smile spreading across his face. Godzilla huffs, glancing up toward Mothra and Shimo again, both of whom blink down at him in response. He shakes his head with a sigh and follows after Kong, a careful walk over. Kong beams at him, rounds a sharp corner and waves for him to follow. He does.

Perhaps it's foolish to follow a former enemy so carelessly, but Kong looks at him so softly it makes it hard to refuse. 

There’s a gap in the clifface, a new renovation that seems to be an incline further into the rocky environment. It’s a dark, steep climb. But it’s smooth, carefully built. Part of it looks natural, but the other part…

“No climb.” Kong tells him, a hint of pride in his voice. “Here before. Finish clear. For you.”

Oh… 

“... Me?” He confirms, to which Kong nods enthusiastically in response. There’s no malice visible, not even a whiff of anything less than positive. Kong is many things, but he is not a liar. 

He steps hesitantly into the passage, the rocky ceiling close to his head. There are natural cave formations along the ground and a few hanging from the makeshift ceiling, but the majority of the path has been meticulously cleared. He finds himself wondering when the time for this was ever found. 

Godzilla chances a glance back at Kong, mindful of keeping his tail low and still, meeting the ape’s eyes. It’s dark in the passage, but there’s a certain light in the other Titan’s eyes that has yet to be extinguished by it. 

“Kind,” He tells the other, careful to keep the rumble in his voice as soft as possible. Kong does not respond, but his shoulders straighten in the glow the moon casts along the entrance, cascading down his back. The light illuminates the shine in his fur. Kong is ethereal in the moonlit glow. 

The trip up the passage is much shorter than it seemed it would be, just a few easy strides and a few quick turns on the way up. When the moonlight no longer reaches them, Godzilla expends a bit of fading energy to light the cavern himself, dorsal plates glowing softly against the stone walls. Kong is very quiet at the display of light, reflecting a brilliant pink in his eyes when Godzilla glances back to ensure he’s still there.

Mothra and Shimo wait at the top of the sloped passageway, both looking incredibly pleased with themselves. He nudges a questioning thought to Mothra, who bats it away with a smile. 

“Safe trip?” Shimo asks him, once the two of them are free of the dark path and his plates have faded to their normal solid. He nods, and she tilts her head in the direction of another entryway. “Come. Talk.” She instructs, turning to head over without waiting for the rest of them. Mothra flutters after her, giving both Kong and Godzilla an appraising look as she does so. They exchange a look between themselves before Kong waves him ahead again. He accepts, makes his way after the two with Kong following close behind. 

The throne room is much bigger on the inside than it appears to be, spacious and surprisingly light for something in the middle of a mountain and hidden from both the moon and the sun. There’s several burning torches along the inside, all leading to the throne in the center. A familiar ax leans against the throne, within arms reach of whoever should take the seat. There’s two other exits along the back, likely belonging to Shimo and Kong respectively. The tribe is likely safe on a lower level. The passageway had no other exits. 

Exhaustion suddenly hits him like the three-headed King had- a sudden, decisive blow that nearly knocks him over. He’s tired, adrenaline fading quickly. The short nap on the shore had been wonderfully needed, but it’s no substitute for the extreme lack of true rest he’s had since the fight against the False King and Shimo herself. The ground is looking unbelievably cozy.

He resolves to make this decision short, and escape back to the surface for a rest again. Perhaps the Colosseum will be more comfortable this time around.

Shimo ambles toward the center of the room, turning slightly to watch the others traipse in. Mothra lands beside her, tucking her wings in quietly as she observes. Godzilla takes the spot across from Shimo, somewhat next to Mothra. Kong lingers by his other side, a comforting presence. 

A difficult conversation to have with four different species, even if Mothra and Godzilla are adept at understanding each other, and even if Kong has become better at understanding both Godzilla and Shimo. There’s words that don’t translate, names that don’t make sense, but Godzilla is able to carefully articulate Rodan’s words and assessment of the call. He’s careful to leave out mention of Na Kika’s awakening, deciding it would be useless to be mentioned, especially since nothing had truly come of it. Mothra seems to recognize something is amiss, but she doesn’t call him on it, just blinks beady eyes at him curiously.

Shimo wastes no time in leaping into discussion. Whatever she’d heard had been foreign, out of place within Hollow Earth, but had been the voice of a threat. Something powerful enough to make her act, but quiet enough for her to lose sight of what she had been searching for. Sneaky. Powerful. Terrible words to be heard together. 

Kong chimes in here, with a few hand gestures as well, and explains that by the time he had found Shimo, the noise had stopped and there had been nothing to fight or find. They had continued searching, but there had been no sign of any disturbance inside of Hollow Earth’s lower levels. Not even a kicked rock. 

“Now?” Godzilla asks, turning to look at Shimo. 

She eyes him critically, as if searching for something. “Wait. Listen. Hear, find.” She sighs. The meaning is clear. Whatever it is, it’s a big enough threat that it needs to be located. The ability to remain hidden and to travel between realms is alarmingly rare, and exceedingly dangerous in the wrong hands. Even without knowing of Na Kika’s awakening, Shimo understands and recognizes it for the threat against the peace of the realms that it is. 

The moon is still high in the sky when they close out the conversation, sending beams of light through a small crack in the wall. Godzilla will return to the surface to keep an eye on the hibernating Titans and ensure they are not awoken, and Shimo and Kong will venture below the first level again in search of any answers possible. If Godzilla cannot sense it on the surface, it is likely hiding below it, deep inside of Hollow Earth.

“Will find.” Shimo declares, standing and stretching herself out, shaking her head and ambling toward the second entryway behind the throne. “Sleep. Goodbye.” She says kindly, before entering the new room, leaving the three of them in the throne room.

Two, after Mothra takes flight again and exits the room to return to ensure the Iwi are still protected with a farewell call and a brief press against Godzilla’s head in goodbye. They will see each other again. But there is always a chance it will not be in her lifetime.

He turns to Kong when it’s just the two of them, nodding a farewell as he begins to exit. “Home. Sleep.” He says with a huff. “Goodbye.”

Kong reaches out with one hand immediately, successfully grabbing his arm. It’s a breakable grip, should he so desire. He does not desire, just turns to look at the other questioningly.

The ape averts his eyes, clearing his throat. “Late.” He says, voice gruff. “Stay. Nest, here. Have.”

“No, no.” Godzilla protests immediately. The Colosseum will do just fine. Taking Kong’s nest is too much, too big a step he doesn’t quite understand. It is far too intimate to share a nest. 

He misses his hidden lair inside of Hollow Earth desperately, sometimes. 

Kong shakes his head, eyes steely when he looks back again. “Tired. Take nest.” He insists, gesturing with his free arm to the first entrance. “Please.” He adds, an afterthought of sorts.

His chest is uncomfortably tight when he nods quietly, allowing Kong to pull him by the arm toward the first entrance. Sharing a nest is an intimate action, much different than sleeping on the shoreline together. It’s taking a special place, joining someone purposefully for rest. This is Kong’s space, and he invited Godzilla in without a second thought.

He feels a little dizzy at the realization, but perhaps that’s the exhaustion speaking. 

The dizziness does not fade, especially at the sight of the nest. It looks comfortable, unassuming, lined with greenery and sticks and there’s fur everywhere, shiny and black against the browns and green surrounding them. Kong seems… Almost nervous when he pauses.

“Good.” He tells the other, still apprehensive but feeling somewhat better. Kong brightens a bit, freeing his arm to gesture broadly to the nest. He finds himself missing the warmth. 

He hesitates again, worried to enter and mess up or damage the nest, but Kong is watching him expectantly and truthfully, the nest looks undeniably comfortable, so he takes the plunge and steps tentatively into the nest, glancing back at Kong for confirmation nothing is messed up. The ape looks delighted, though, so clearly nothing is wrong with the way he circles briefly before settling into the nest, tucking his tail in close to his snout. Fur and leaves stick to his scales. It’s the most comfortable he’s felt in a long time. 

“Good?” Kong asks expectantly, lowering himself to the ground.

The nest is large, much larger than Godzilla is and could certainly fit two or three of him comfortably. It’s designed intricately, there’s a pattern he recognizes to its build that he wouldn’t be able to replicate if he tried, lack of fifth finger aside. But the caves are chilly, and there’s no sunlight streaming through the air to burrow under his scales. 

This isn’t his nest.

He flicks his tail slightly, uncovering enough of his face to grunt in affirmation. “Cold.” He says, trying to keep his voice low and disinterested. He doesn’t think it’s working. Judging by the way Kong is looking at him, Kong isn’t falling for it, either. “Come. Warm.”

A flash of surprise overtakes Kong’s face before it vanishes and the ape is blinking at him. “... Now?”

“Yes.”

“Sure?”

“Yes,” He stresses, no longer chilly when the embarrassment of the situation takes hold and a warm flush rushes through his scales. 

“Okay!” Kong says, and suddenly he’s in Godzilla’s space, curling against him to fit into the nest. Godzilla shuffles back slightly to make room, and Kong follows without question. There are several points of pressure, and he finds he dislikes none of them. They slot together well in the oversized nest, Kong stretched out over half of it, one arm tossed over Godzilla’s head, where Godzilla curls tightly into himself, tucking his snout behind his tail.

It is much warmer now. The chill recedes, replaced by a gentle flame that flickers bravely in its wake. 

Kong yawns, all teeth on display as he shifts slightly to lay on his side, blinking curiously at him when they make eye contact. “Warm?”

“Yes.” He answers, shutting his eyes and nudging his snout further into his tail. Kong chuckles, somewhere above him. “Sleep.”

“Yes,” Kong echoes quietly, a hint of a smile in his voice. 

The walls dance with the dying embers of the flames from the throne room, illuminating the entryway at Kong’s back. Kong huffs, eyes slipping shut without another word. Godzilla blinks his own back open to watch him curiously. He is soft in the warm light, fur clean and velvety. 

Godzilla is struck with another horrible revelation, of genuine care and another suspicious feeling that lingers close to his heart, a mellow fondness that has made itself at home in his chest, one that holds tightly to his heartstrings and refuses to let go. 

He shuts his eyes and sleeps.

Chapter Text

Dawn brings a warmth irreplaceable by any, a heat that penetrates below his scales in a way that’s impossible to ignore. A comfortable feeling is what the light brings, familiar in the way breathing has always been. Even this far from the sky, both his own and the one encircling this realm, there’s a feeling that cannot be prevented. It comes with the rising sun, digs its claws into his scales and burrows in deep. 

Something soft brushes against his face, drawing him gently from his slumber. There’s several points of contact with something soft, a weight across his side that feels abnormal, something hovering above his head. A warm mass is pressed against him and his tail is strewn over it, tucked gently against its other side.

The sun is rising. He cracks an eye open, peering at the rocky ceiling above him. There’s no visible light beyond the flickering flames from the throne room, but the room itself seems brighter. Perhaps it's the lack of fog, given he’s been given the opportunity to sneak in another restful night, but the cavern is visibly clearer than before. The walls are jagged in spots, but it’s mostly covered in smooth rock. Beyond the mass pressed against him is the exit. The light of the flame flickers against the wall above his head.

Kong shifts slightly, eyes still shut tight. He’s sprawled out across the nest, one arm resting above Godzilla’s head, the other dangling halfway out of the nest. They’re pressed against each other to fit in the nest. His snout is very close to Kong’s neck, close enough that an exhale ruffles Kong’s fur gently. His tail is draped across Kong’s stomach, swaying in time with each breath the ape takes. 

The other Titan looks peaceful, unbelievably gentle in the early morning air. Kong huffs a breath, though he doesn’t seem to wake, just nudges slightly further into the nest. The movement pushes Godzilla’s snout a bit further into the other Titan’s neck. 

Kong does not stir. Godzilla, however, is fully awake and uncertain of how to proceed. There’s no real way to exit the nest without disturbing the other, and the last thing he wants is to bother the other, not after being invited to share his nest. Godzilla has his back to the wall. Kong has his back to the exit. Godzilla is not moving anytime soon. 

Which is… fine, actually. Godzilla finds he does not mind being trapped like this, as confusing as the feelings in his chest are. There’s conflict in them, relief of facing the exit with a tension at being confined. Something stirs deep in his bones, warm at being confronted so early. The nest smells like Kong.

Kong grumbles low in his throat when he shifts again, drawing his other arm back into the nest as one eye opens, blinking slowly at the ceiling. He looks softer than usual this early, the distant flickers of flame reflecting in his eyes, clouded as they are this morning. Godzilla says nothing, leaves his tail where it sits across the other’s chest and stays quiet and still to prolong the moment. 

It works, to an extent. Kong rolls over so they’re facing each other, eyes tender as they look at each other. They’re both quiet. Godzilla is practically holding his breath. 

“Hello,” Kong says, quiet out of politeness, though his eyes are sharp with care. “Sleep?” He checks. 

He huffs, breath stirring the other Titan’s fur. “Well.” He answers, watching the relief split across Kong’s face. He is exceptionally pretty in the flickering light. It dances across his back, decorating his fur with splashes of yellow and orange that paint the inky fur into a sunset. Godzilla is enthralled. 

Neither of them move. 

Kong yawns, a wide gesture that he turns his head to the side to complete to avoid yawning on Godzilla. He turns back when the action is completed, still smiling. 

Body language is much easier to understand than words, especially when it’s brimming with hostility. But there’s nothing remotely negative about the way Kong is sprawled out, soft and content in the breaking dawn. He looks good like this, light sparkling in his eyes in a way that seems to disappear throughout long days. 

Godzilla wants to keep it there. 

What an awful thought. It startles him further into wakefulness, and he jerks his head back in surprise. They’re tucked so close together that the sudden movement causes the top of his head to hit Kong’s jaw, sending them both reeling in shock. Kong grunts, rubbing his jaw while Godzilla hisses, pulling back slightly so their heads aren’t as close together. He grumbles out an apology that Kong accepts without missing a beat. He is far too kind. 

“Up?” Kong asks as he rolls out of the nest, pushing himself to his feet. The moment is over. Godzilla mourns, even as he nods and uncurls himself. Kong huffs in fond amusement and extends one arm, offering him his hand. There’s hesitation in the ape’s eyes. It looks wrong on his face. 

Godzilla takes the offered hand gently, allowing Kong to help him to his feet and out of the nest without jostling anything in it. He steps back onto hard, rocky ground after a brief moment of figuring out where to land, and releases Kong’s hand. The ape’s arm falls away after lingering for a moment, and he turns to shuffle out of the cave, beckoning the other to follow.

Godzilla hates being told what to do.

He follows the other into the light anyway. 

The throne room is quiet when they enter, devoid of life in the vicinity, despite the calls of the apes further along in the caves. The silence is nice, even as the torches crackle along with every breath. 

The quiet is comforting. Godzilla allows himself to sink into it, losing himself in the peace as Kong trundles along ahead. The other Titan says nothing as they walk, just glances back periodically to ensure he’s still following toward the exit. 

Cold stone turns to sky on the ledge of the cliffside home. Light beats down on his scales, casting shadows across the jagged ground. The sun is rising, a slow ascent through the false sky that looks so undeniably familiar to his own. Sharp rock litters the ground beneath their cliffside balcony, trees dotting the distant horizon. There’s a distinct smell of rain that lingers in the air, clouds graying and scattered above them as a breeze pulls them along. The rain would be a welcome feeling against his dry scales. He aches in the sunlight, warm as it may be. 

Kong is staring at him when he shifts to look for the other. The wind tugs at his fur gently, a call for adventure that he seems content to ignore. Even as the sky grays, there’s a light in his eyes that cannot be dimmed. The precious few moments of sun had been absorbed into warm brown eyes. 

“Sun leaves.” Kong says finally. He is not looking at the sky. “Short day.”

He tilts his head in agreement, turning his eyes back to the skyline. It’s darkening again, as if the sun had never risen in the first place. An ominous cloud hangs above them. The scent of rain is stronger, here. “Inside?”

It’s Kong’s turn to nod, even as he casts a mournful look over his kingdom. “Miss light. Wanted go.” He grumbles, shuffling back inside. 

There’s a pattering of feet against stone as a small, orange ape appears from a winding hallway, eyes bright with curiosity as he chirps a greeting at them both before diving into discussion with Kong, who is hanging onto every word. Godzilla turns slightly, looking away to give them some semblance of privacy. He’s still halfway outside, so he just steps back again to exit fully, turning his attention back to the clouds swirling above. 

He wonders if it’s raining on the surface, too? Rodan will be displeased. He hopes it’s raining, if only for that reason. Rodan could use a good humbling, after all. 

Rain may help the mysterious creature hide, though. To mask its own scent using the cover of earthy rain to protect itself. Travel will be all the more easier for it. And they are no closer to finding it than before. If anything, they’re falling further behind than imaginable. 

Kong touches his arm to get his attention. His hands are rough and calloused, even against sharp outer scales. “Back soon.” He says. “Tribe. Problem. Go solve.”

He nods in understanding, a huff slipping free at the action. “Will wait. Back.” He agrees. Kong nods in return with a relieved smile, turning to follow the tiny ape back into the darkness. 

Leaving Godzilla alone on the ledge. 

The sky continues to rapidly darken, a picture of night looming over him as it grows and spreads. The weather below the surface is much less predictable, even as the smell of rain rests heavily across the landscape. Rain smells like home, as much as the salty tang of the sea smells the same way. 

The silence that accompanies the first few drops is welcoming.

There’s a soft gust of warm air that brushes against his scales as Mothra lands on his head with a gentle chirped greeting, a smile audible in her tone. “Awake. Hello.” She greets happily, antenna curling in delight when he grunts. “Where is Kong?”

“With tribe. Helping.” He echoes, and she nods thoughtfully as she settles in on his head, wings tucked tight against her body. The rain patters down with a bit more force. Neither of them move. 

“Cold.” Mothra sighs. “Will dry, long.”

He winces in apology in his own mind, though says nothing. It will take time for her fur to dry out, considering how thick her coat is. It’s her choice to remain with him in the rain, but there’s a flash of guilt in his chest over how long it will take her to warm up again. 

“Why here?” She asks, moving on swiftly from the prior topic. “Not in?”

“Rain nice. Dry.” He informs her, even if she already knows. Too long out of the water makes his scales irritated. They crack and break apart much easier when dried out. The water is his domain. It only makes sense he cannot go without. 

She nods again, tucking herself closer to his head. “Heard?” She asks tersely. 

He pauses his thoughts to concentrate on her words, straining his ears for any sign of the unknown beast. There is nothing. 

He’s starting to think he was imagining things the whole time. 

Rain beats down gently on them, a weight sinking below his scales in a way that’s intimately familiar. Mothra is quiet too, waiting for the chance of sunshine in the afternoon from where she remains above him. It’s with a heavy heart that he turns away from the edge, intent on returning to the caves to escape the rain. 

He’s halted in his tracks when Mothra speaks again, a quiet tone she only ever employs when the conversation is truly meaningful. “You, and Kong. You are… Close?” There is nothing mocking in her voice, but there is concern in the undertones, covered by a patience only she has ever been able to muster to his face. 

“Friends.” He elects to tell her, even if the word feels foreign in his maw. It’s not quite right anymore, but there’s no word strong enough for the way he feels for the other Titan in this exact moment. His stomach curls at the thought. It’s almost uncomfortable. 

She’s quiet again, but the thrumming in his mind is contemplative. “You want?”  

He’s not entirely sure what she means. It feels like an open question, but her tone suggests it’s not. He considers the question in every possible aspect, reaching for hypotheticals and hunting down far-fetched reasoning. There’s very few that make sense. But Mothra has always preferred to leave him to figure things out on his own, because it promotes self-actualization and he needs time to think for himself, apparently. He’s not entirely sure what that all means, but Mothra says it’s a good thing. 

“Yes.” He settles on, after a long stretch of silence that almost becomes uncomfortable. “More.”

She clicks in understanding, shuffling her position slightly. “He, too.” She chuckles, taking flight to escape into the cave again. The motion leaves him to stand in the rain, a trickling stream that is slowly becoming torrential. And yet he stands in it, staring after her as the words work their way through his head and chest. 

The false sky darkens with every passing second, making the slight glow of torch light from the caverns all the more inviting. Except Mothra’s final words burrow under his scales, work their way around his chest and tighten.

The world is suspiciously quiet. The surface echoes a lonely song through the leylines, resonant of a future drawing closer. 

In all truth, Godzilla has more than enough in front of him to handle, excluding the complication of monstrous emotions joining the fray. How he feels about Kong has no business intruding on anything in this life, particularly when something is traversing their world in secret. Whatever this all is will have to wait until Godzilla is able to kill something. He’s actually not all that picky about who he kills, either. Rodan could certainly go. 

He wants nothing more than to return to the nest and curl up again, to catch up on the eons of sleep he deserves, but there’s work to be done and thinking about how soft Kong’s fur is against his scales isn’t going to stop an invisible monster, so he resigns himself to searching for Shimo and getting her professional (and wise, he supposes) opinion on the threat level. 

Granted, her immediate mobilization in response to the perceived threat is probably an indication of its danger, but Shimo has been around for so long it’s still worth checking in, even if the entire situation was hashed out last night. 

Oh, to be content in a warm nest with another body.

Shimo is easy enough to track down after he returns to the cave and shakes the rain out of his scales, sending droplets scattering in his wake. She’s big and white, a stark contrast to the rocky walls and coated apes that linger in the caves. She’s standing with the mini-Kong from before, the one with orange fur and brilliant green eyes. They both turn to look at him when he enters the tunnel, Shimo with delight and the mini-Kong with curiosity. What an odd duo. He really needs to learn the tiny ape’s actual name. 

“Good,” Shimo announces, to no one in particular. “Look for you. Talk?”

He nods in agreement, watching as the ape shuffles out of the cave without question. Shimo seems to like him, if the way she watches him exit carefully says anything much. She turns back to him and beckons him to follow with a wide sweep of her tail as she moves further into the caves. He follows along as quietly as possible. Which is very difficult, actually. He’s not a small beast. 

She takes a sharp turn into an offset of a cavern, lit only by a single torch on the wall that flickers weakly with each movement they make. There’s a nest in the corner, organized but small. It smells of Shimo in the room. Odd, considering she seems to have a room behind the throne as well, but having options is probably nice. Perhaps Kong talks in his sleep.

Godzilla wouldn’t know. He knocked out a little too quickly in the nest with him. 

“Noise,” Shimo says, straight to business. “New. Not old. Unheard, before.”

Which blows his theory that she recognized it clear out of the water. An unfortunate statement, but a statement, nonetheless. 

“High-pitched. Heard once. Not same, close?” The frown is audible in her voice. “Five rotations. Much quieter, then.”  

It’s his turn to frown, a movement that exposes a few sharp teeth. “Not mention before?”

She huffs. It sounds like more of a laugh than one of frustration. “Unsure before. Know now. Heard. Familiar.” She explains, and it’s a solid argument.

“Here? Below?” He asks, searching through his memories of uprisings for anything that sounded familiar to what they’ve been hearing. 

“No. Above.” She says, tone softer now. “From above.”

He very nearly twitches at the admission. 

Something that sounds familiar due to a stint on the surface fairly recently. Armed with that, it could be any number of Titans of even human-made threats that had been operational within the time period. Most Titans who had caused him trouble were dead now, and the humans are too weak to pose a significant threat to him, giant explosives or not. If anything, those explosives had always been a nice snack in between saving the world. 

“Will go up soon.” He promises. “Will listen close. On surface, perhaps come back to it?”  

She nods in mild agreement. “Will go home.” She murmurs, more of a personal sounding statement than a general admission before she shakes her head and stands, making her way out. “Come. Kong back soon.” She tells him, a mischievous sparkle settling into her eyes as she exits without looking back again.

He probably is back soon, has to be finished handling whatever internal tribe issue by now. He hurries after her, allows her to lead him back to the throne room. It’s empty when they arrive, devoid of all life. There’s no movement aside from the flickering flames along the walls. 

The rain is audible, even through the thick mountain rock. It must be pouring out now. It’s sort of a wonder the caves haven’t flooded, yet. 

Shimo leaves in search of Mothra after making him promise to say goodbye before he returns to the surface (he complies, because she truly always means well), leaving him completely alone in the cooling throne room. The scent of rain lingers heavily in the air, compressed as it may be. It’s still refreshing, even if the caves are dark from the lack of natural light streaming through the cracks. 

Godzilla is tired. He is going to have an exceptionally long week ahead of him, reaching out to the surface-bound Titans for help recalling a specific sound from over five rotations ago. Rodan is going to get a kick out of this. Tiamat probably would have too, if he hadn’t blown her to pieces in search of radiation earlier this month. 

She could have moved. 

Kong’s personal room along the back wall is easy to find again. The nest calls his name, warm and inviting. And who is he to refuse? He makes his way over and shuffles into the nest again, turning twice before curling his tail tightly around himself to maintain his temperature within a comfortable sleeping range. Being warm at night is a must, especially when Titans tend to run on the colder side. 

It’s rather empty in the large nest, as is it a bit cold. Godzilla has his work cut out for him. It can’t hurt to take a short nap before leaping back into the fight.

He’s tired. There will be no peaceful rest on the surface, not as long as he has no real “home” to return to after a difficult battle. There is no safe space for him to recover, an especially troubling thought when he considers Shimo’s thoughts on their mystery monster. Sleep will become a scarcity soon.

Within the past five rounds?

An interesting admission. It narrows the search down, but only slightly. He has half a mind to blame Ghidorah and it probably wouldn’t be too far off, considering the beast had regrown an entire head right in front of him after he’d torn it clean off. 

This nap would be much warmer with another body.

He’s drifting between worlds when a soft pressure joins him in the nest, warm against his scales as it curls around him. He cracks one eye open, curious and half-alert, shifting his head to glance behind himself.

Kong has joined him in the nest, smiling tiredly as he curls an arm over Godzilla’s back.

“Sorry. Long.” Kong whispers, voice kept forcefully and purposefully low. A kind thought. “Back in nest?”

“Tired. Sorry.” He grumbles, drawing his tail closer to himself. 

Kong runs a large hand down his back, voice fond and soft. It suits him desperately. “No sorry. Mine, yours.” He says, quiet and meaningful. There’s a lot to unpack, but the world is hazy with sleep. “Rest. Talk later.”

He sighs in response, allowing his eyes to drift shut.

Rain patters against the world outside. The cavern remains warm and aglow when he sinks fully into the depths of sleep, warm pressure against his back and across his side from a familiar body. There’s a rickety feeling growing in his throat.

He is safe.

Chapter Text

Hey guys

First off, sincerest apologies for how long this took to put out. I know I said I planned on updating during the summer, but life got in the way and I was too tired to write.

However, I fear I’ve hit a wall. Not story-wise, fortunately I’ve had a plot and sub stories prepared for a while now, but my lack of motivation to write is unfortunately killing me, so until it comes back, please assume this story is on indefinite hiatus. I sincerely apologize for that. If anyone is curious, I can transfer my thoughts, plot explanations, character discussions, and more into a google doc and upload it here later on if I (somehow) never get my motivation back. Or I can upload it ASAP and post a heavily specified spoiler warning with it. It will take a while for me to transfer everything anyway, since I write all my ideas on physical paper and my handwriting is actually outrageously bad. Sincerest apologies to everyone who has ever had to read it. I know it’s not easy😭

I’m doing well though! Classes have started and I’m infinitely grateful to my friends and professors for their support in my research endeavors. 

Saw my favorite band for the second time this year and it was awesome I got to meet them n shit…..life changing. super awkward though bc I was lowkey freaking out over it but they were all super cool. Soooo bad at holding eye contact so I kept looking away but ummmm so cool !!😭❤️ my watch genuinely thought I was fighting for my life bc it was recording my heart rate at 170 at some point and like ok objectively it WAS that serious to me but what was that all about….hahaha….

Thank you all for your parience these past few months! Hopefully I burn through this writers block soon so I can finish off this story properly. I have full faith I will be back (eventually), and life will be awesome when I am

If I return with another chapter, I’ll delete this one.