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Chapter Text

Three times a year, Andrew attended a two-week-long camp. Once his sister was old enough to go, she joined him, and they would wave goodbye to each other at the registration desk and head off to join their respective age groups. They often crossed paths, since five- to ten-year-olds were on one side of the sprawling property and eleven- to fifteen-year-olds were on the other. 

They sat together on movie night, they ate at least one meal a day side-by-side, and whenever their age groups were brought together for one big event, he always made sure she was on his team. 

Andrew hadn’t specifically been told by his parents to watch out for his sister. He’d just sort of taken the responsibility on himself. Adults always thought it was adorable, the way he didn’t push Maddie away or tell her to leave him alone. He saw a lot of other boys do that with their little sisters, but he never understand why. 

This camp week was different from all the others, though. He’d finally turned eleven, and he was a big boy now and had gotten a really cool bike for his birthday with pegs attached for Maddie to stand on. They’d been caught one too many times with her balanced on the center of his handlebars, so this was the compromise. 

But it also meant he was on the other side of the camp for the first time. He wouldn’t have noticed much of a difference, especially since all the older kids weren’t being mean like he and other boys in his age group had worried about, but he was instantly aware at dinner on day one that his sister wouldn’t be joining him. 

Andrew convinced himself it wasn’t a big deal, and that the four years until they’d be on the same side again wouldn’t be that long, and that they’d only have another year together at the camp until he aged out entirely didn’t suck. 

They were allowed to send letters to other kids within the campgrounds, and they’d be delivered either at lunch or before lights out, depending on when they were “mailed.” He and Maddie had never bothered to before, since they saw each other every day. 

He went to the Trading Post the next morning after breakfast and wrote his sister a letter. 

Only hours later, right as she would have been getting his, his group leader handed him one from her. 

Andrew set his fork aside and smiled as he opened it. 

• • • 

Camp passed as normal, other than the two letters a day they each received from each other. Andrew’s new group was a lot of fun, and the games and activities were different for the older kids. 

Lights out was a little bit later too, and they even had a few events at night. 

It was just as his group was returning from glow-in-the-dark capture the flag when another counselor jogged up to their leader. Andrew and the others didn’t pay them much attention as they talked quietly for a few minutes while they walked up the path to the cabin. 

As everyone started to get ready for bed, Andrew’s leader, Michael, caught his shoulder. “Change of plans for you, kiddo,” he said. “You’ve got a drawstring bag, right? Good, pack a change of clothes and whatever you need to sleep with.” 

“Am I in trouble?” Andrew couldn’t remember doing anything wrong. Were they kicking him out? Were the rumors from the older kids about the tiny jail cell in the Administration Building true? 

“No, no.” Michael shook his head and squatted down to be on eye-level with him. “They’re gonna have you stay the night with your sister, okay? She’s been having some trouble with bad dreams.” 

Andrew squared his shoulders and nodded. Maddie needed him. He hurriedly packed his bag and didn’t so much as pause to say a word to his friends. 

The other counselor was waiting outside, and she gave him a smile. “You ready to go?”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

She laughed lightly as she led him down the path to one of the special golf carts none of the kids were allowed to touch. “Sorry about pulling you away like this, but Maddie’s leader said the poor kid’s barely been sleeping the past few nights.” 

“It’s fine,” he told her, meaning it 100%. Andrew waited for the engine to quiet down before adding, “It’s the first time I’ve been on the big kid’s side. We’ve never been to camp without getting to see each other.” 

As the golf cart stopped at an intersection, the counselor glanced over at him, a funny smile on her face. “You usually hang out with her?” 

“Of course. She’s my sister. We’ve been writing letters, but it’s not really the same.” 

They sat in silence for a little while as the trees whizzed by. Andrew knew the moment they’d crossed into the other side. It was still more familiar to him. 

“You’re a good big brother, Andrew,” the lady finally said. 

Andrew nodded. He got that a lot. Though he didn’t disagree with the words, he knew he wasn’t actually doing anything all that special. It was all the other brothers people knew who made themselves look bad, and Andrew better by comparison. 

He waited until the engine was shut off before hopping off the golf cart and heading straight to the cabin she’d stopped in front of. “Thank you!” he called behind him. It was probably rude of him not to wait for her, but… Maddie. 

The door opened before he could wonder whether or not he should knock, since lights out was a while ago for them. The person behind it, a lady with purple hair, leaned down to whisper to him. “Andrew, right? I’m Lizzie, your sister’s group leader. Most of the girls are asleep, so if you’re okay with it, I’ll take you to the bathroom so you can change and brush your teeth, and then I’ll take you to Maddie. That sound good?” 

He would’ve rather see Maddie first, but it was probably best to get the other stuff out of the way first. He nodded up at Lizzie and she silently guided him through the dark first floor to the bathroom. After changing as quick as he could and brushing his teeth for admittedly less than two minutes, he popped back out and resisted bouncing impatiently. 

Maddie’s bed was on the upper floor, near a window. He saw her first, sitting with her knees pulled up, looking like she’d been crying. 

Andrew darted ahead of Lizzie, quietly dropped his drawstring bag on the floor, and kicked his untied sneakers off before jumping to join her on the bed. She startled a little but immediately reached out for him. 

Scooting closer on his knees, Andrew sat down and pulled his sister against him as she sniffled into his shirt. When Lizzie left, he couldn’t have said, because he was too busy whispering silly things into Maddie’s ear to cheer her up. 

Only once she giggled did he start to relax. She told him about her nightmares after they climbed beneath the blanket and pulled it over their heads. They weren’t anything specific, just dreams that left her thrashing in bed, heart racing, until she woke up crying. 

It was the third night in a row she’d had them, and she barely slept afterwards, leaving her increasingly more exhausted each morning. She didn’t say she couldn’t get a good night’s sleep because they weren’t really at camp together anymore, but Andrew sure was thinking it. Even back home, Maddie was always having all sorts of dreams, but they never left much of an effect on her once she’d been given a hug or two. 

Andrew saw the moment Maddie was ready to sleep again. She slowly went limp against him as her eyes began drifting shut while he was in the middle of a story. He kept talking, telling her all about the time one of his friends smuggled three mice into their classroom at school. 

“Mm,” Maddie whispered, more asleep than awake. “Wish we had a mouse.” 

Maddie would accept any sort of pet offered to her. If it wasn’t for how much Mom and Dad traveled, her desperation to add an animal friend to their family probably would’ve convinced them. 

He smiled. “If you could have any pet you wanted, what would it be?” Her answer changed every time someone asked her. 

“An otter.” 

He gave it a moment’s thought before nodding. “I’d like an otter. They’re cute.” 

She mumbled something about swimming. 

“Mhm.” Andrew reached up and lightly tugged on her hair. She didn’t open her eyes or pull away. “Maddie?” She didn’t respond. “Goodnight, Maddie.” 

After pushing the blanket off their heads to let cool, fresh air surround them, Andrew lightly laid his arm over her in a loose hug and closed his eyes. His last thought was of how he loved this camp, but maybe they could look for one where the ages were separated differently. 

(In the morning, Andrew would write a note for himself on his arm to ask Mom and Dad about looking into other camps. Every morning after, until they were picked up by their parents, he would carefully trace over each letter with his sharpie. He could’ve written it down on a piece of paper, he knew that, but… paper could get lost. Forgotten in a pocket, left on a table, fallen to a dirt trail. 

At the end of camp, while he and Maddie stood waiting side by side, hands clasped between them, she would trace the words with her little pointer finger and beam up at him.

Four months later, they would go to a new camp.)

Chapter Text

Andrew ran through the streets, already lost in the darkness. Entirely too close, Godzilla collided with Ghidorah, sending both of them stumbling. Tails whipped around—he wasn’t even sure through the rain and smoke whose was whose—and chunks of buildings exploded outward. 

He raised his arm to shield his eyes from the smaller bits of debris pelting down around him. It was a battleground, a war zone, and somewhere in the middle of it was his baby sister. 

Dad was going to kill him for sneaking off just to race in like this, no plan, no backup, not even a way to call for help, but the thought of Maddie somewhere out here turned his veins to fire, burning with the need to do something. 

He’d find her. He’d find her in these ruins just like she’d been the one to find him in San Francisco. Andrew would be dead if it weren’t for her, so like hell he was just going to sit and twiddle his thumbs while she was risking her life to correct their mom’s mistake. 

Another building fell to the Titans. Overhead, Rodan screeched and dove at Mothra. 

Somewhere, a human’s scream echoed. 

His legs burned as he took off, twice as fast as before, in the direction he hoped it had come from. A car bounced past him as he turned a corner, and there—just down the block, Maddie was picking herself up off the ground. 

“Maddie!” he cried even as he bounded over to her. She spotted him just seconds before they collided, his arms wrapping iron-tight around her. 

The devastation surrounding them faded for a moment as he buried his forehead against her hair and she pressed her cheek against his chest. Andrew felt his shirt pull tight as she bunched up the fabric in her hands, clutching as fiercely as he was. 

He breathed—in, out—and pulled back. She looked up at him, ash smeared across her face, eyes bright with life. 

“Dad’s gonna kill you,” she said cheerfully. “No way he let you come down here alone.” 

“Who says I’m alone?” he asked. Golden lightning lit up the sky to his right, but Ghidorah could wait, this moment was about his sister and not a single other living creature, alien Titan thing or otherwise, could change that. 

Maddie made a show of leaning to the side to peer behind him, obnoxious in a way only a younger sibling could be. Of course, as they both knew, there was only an empty street.

“Yeah, well, at least I’m not the one who,” he flapped a hand in the general direction Fenway Park was in, probably, “literally set off a signal to draw in the biggest of big bads.” 

She bit her lip briefly, but had a comeback ready with only a second’s hesitation. “Maybe so, but it’s not like no one told me not to. Dad definitely told you to stay put.” 

Andrew puffed his cheeks out. She’d even gotten the wording right—“Andrew, just wait here, stay put, okay? We’ll get Maddie, I promise.”—not that he’d give her the satisfaction of knowing that. 

A terrible inhuman cry split the air, making both of them wince. It wasn’t deep enough to be Godzilla or Ghidorah, and Andrew felt Maddie hold her breath just like him as they tipped their heads back. 

A silken wing was briefly visible over the buildings, and both of them breathed out in relief. 

Taking his sister’s hand, Andrew gave it a gentle squeeze as he pulled away. She reluctantly lowered her gaze from trying to catch a better glimpse of Mothra, and without another word passed between them, they ran. 

The battle raged behind them, buildings loudly crashing down, roars and bellows flying back and forth just as much as atomic breath and gravity beams. Andrew spared a passing thought for Monarch’s odd names for what amounted to lasers and lightning. Such a strange thing to think of while running for his life. 

“Do you hear that?” Maddie cried. 

For a split second, he expected to hear massive footsteps behind them or something, chasing them down, as if the two of them were of any concern to the Titans. Instead, the familiar sound of an Osprey met his ears. 

Relief and apprehension struck him mute as the Monarch chopper landed ahead of them on the street. Their dad leapt off before it’d even finished settling, running straight for them with a stricken look on his face. 

Whoops. Andrew's little disappearing act probably contributed quite a bit to that expression.

An arm went around each of them, tugging them both tight against his chest just as Andrew had done minutes ago to Maddie. Neither complained about the bruising grip, nor did they mention the desperate little gasps leaving their dad’s mouth. 

“Hey!” someone from the chopper yelled. Peeking around his dad’s shoulder, Andrew saw Barnes frantically gesturing them closer. “We’ve gotta go!” 

“Are either of you hurt?” Dad asked them as they hurried to the Osprey. 

Andrew shook his head. Nothing worse than pebble-sized debris had touched him. Maddie shook her head too, but his brotherly sixth-sense told him she was lying. Something in her eyes…

“Have you seen Mom?” she asked as they reached the ramp. Inside, Barnes was hunched over Griffin. Other than the pilot, they were alone. 

There were several things Andrew expected his dad to say. That no, he hadn’t seen her. Yes, but she’s fleeing the city. Yes, she’s on a different ship. Why would I have seen her? 

But what came out was a bewildered, “She was just here.” 

The rev of an engine pulled their attention away from the Osprey. Distantly, Andrew noticed several things at once. 

One, Ghidorah’s heads were emerging from the distant smokey rain, and all three were facing them. In fact, he was coming toward them. 

(Somewhere in Andrew’s head, something small and prey-like was screaming in gibbering terror at the sight. Later, he’d be both petrified and impressed when Maddie told him how she’d given Ghidorah her best human roar when he’d been about to fry her. 

“Weren’t you afraid?” he’ll ask. 

“Yeah,” she’ll say with a little shrug, as if it really wasn’t that big a deal. “But I was more angry than I was scared.”)

Two, the ORCA’s obnoxious whomp-whomp noise had started back up, practically right on top of them. 

Three, the person in the truck was his mom. She was saying something, something that sounded an awful lot like a goodbye. 

The truck peeled away with a screech of tires on pavement. Maddie screamed after her, and then Dad was wrestling her up into the Osprey. Andrew followed without thought, staring almost dumbly after the taillights as they disappeared into the haze. 

He nearly lost his balance when the floor shuddered beneath him, the Osprey rising into the air with the ramp still down. He did lose his balance and plop down onto his butt when reality came howling up behind him, rushing blood in his ears, as he watched Ghidorah change his course to follow the truck. To follow Mom. 

A wave of heat made him flinch, and suddenly he could hear Maddie screaming and crying beside him on the floor, trapped against their dad’s chest as all three of them looked out over the ruins of Boston. 

Godzilla, glowing a highly ominous molten-red, stormed after Ghidorah, melting everything in his path. 

Lightning shot down to the road. They were too far away to see what, if anything, it hit. 

Not that it mattered, Andrew realized numbly. Godzilla roared, the charging whine of his spines audible despite the distance, and emitted a blast of what looked like pure boiling radiation. 

It wouldn’t matter if Ghidorah’s shot hit her, because his mom wouldn’t survive this final showdown anyway. 

A hand found his and squeezed. He followed its pull like the moon to earth, like gravity, the way he always did when his baby sister needed him, even when she wasn’t really a baby anymore. 

Scooting over, he leaned against his dad’s shoulder, keeping Maddie’s hand locked in his, and together, the three of them watched Godzilla finally triumph over Ghidorah. 

Chapter Text

Maddie grinned as she chased her brother through the halls. “Andrew, slow down! Aunt Ling said we had plenty of time!” 

“Yeah, but I refuse to get stuck behind an adult!” he called back. 

Finally catching up, she smacked his back. “You’re as tall as most of the adults around here, doofus.” 

“Mm, but you’re not!”

Maddie drew up to a halt, having seen what her brother didn’t. She laughed at him as he tripped over himself to avoid running Aunt Ilene over. She stood in the doorway she’d just emerged from, looking rather unimpressed. 

“Hey, Aunt Ilene. Almost didn’t see you there,” he panted. Maddie elbowed him as she came up beside him.  

“I noticed,” she said dryly, though Maddie could tell she was trying not to smile. 

“So?” Maddie bounced up on her toes, too excited to stand still. “She’s hatching today, right? For sure?” 

“No false alarm this time,” Aunt Ilene promised as she turned to lead them down the short corridor to the observation room outside Mothra’s egg chamber. 

“—to simply stand back and observe,” Aunt Ling was just finishing saying to the group of personnel when they arrived. 

Maddie went and tucked herself beneath her adoptive aunt’s arm, leaving Andrew to pester Aunt Ilene about the next time they could visit civilization. 

Aunt Ling smiled down at her and asked, “And why is that, Maddie?” 

“Because we’re guests,” she answered. “And it’d be really rude if we tried to interfere in her process.” 

“Exactly. Thank you.” She dropped a kiss on top of Maddie’s head before steering her to the window to join Andrew and Aunt Ilene. Everyone else returned to their tasks. 

She nudged her brother in excitement. “Can you believe we get to watch this?” she whispered up to him.

“Sometimes it still feels like a dream,” he said, shaking his head. “I wish Mom and Dad were here to see this.” His hand brushed her wrist, and Maddie unhesitatingly took it in her own.

Their fingers interlocked. It was a feeling they often sought out for comfort, mostly because of memory association. They’d survived San Francisco like this, holding tight to each other as they ran. Even though Andrew remembered the whole thing better than her, she could still picture with horrible clarity the smoke and darkness and fires. And in the midst of it all, her brother, refusing to let her go. 

Mothra’s egg started to pulse and wiggle, and Maddie cast aside all thoughts of the past. 

• • • 

“Vivienne called dibs on you two for the next few weeks,” Aunt Ling told them at breakfast three days later. “She’ll be stationed at Castle Bravo for most of that time—”

“Yes!” Maddie and Andrew said together, sharing an excited grin. 

Aunt Ilene shook her head as Aunt Ling continued, “So pack accordingly.” 

“What about you guys?” Maddie asked as her pig of a brother stuffed nearly half a pancake into his mouth. 

“I’ll be remaining here,” Aunt Ilene answered, “to finish organizing our notes, and to see when Mothra leaves, and whether she returns. It will be interesting to find out if the temple is merely a birthplace, or a home.” 

“And I will be with my normal family,” Aunt Ling said. It was a joke between them, started accidentally by a much younger Maddie, that Aunt Ling had a normal family and a Monarch family, since those descriptors were apparently opposites of each other. “I believe I was promised a vacation.” 

“She means a vacation from us,” Andrew whispered loudly to Maddie. 

Aunt Ilene rolled her eyes as her sister swatted at him. “There will be an Osprey here tomorrow morning,” she said, mostly to Maddie, “so make sure you say your goodbyes today.” 

Andrew ended up getting suckered into moving some old equipment, so Maddie went on without him. She bid farewell to the people she usually hung around with, and found someone to water the plants she kept in one of labs. With the humans taken care of by the time lunch was over, Maddie slipped outside and ran down the path to the nearby cliff face where Mothra had gone into her cocoon. 

She waved at the group monitoring Mothra before climbing the rocks to get closer. Seeing her up close after hatching had been absolutely amazing, and Maddie was even more excited to see her with wings. Given that they expected her to take off after emerging from the cocoon, there was no telling when that would be. 

Maddie said her goodbyes from the tall rock she sat on, wishing Mothra well and promising to be back at this base in a month if she felt like stopping by. 

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly as she and Andrew made sure everything they definitely couldn’t live without was packed and ready to go. The Osprey touched down the next morning and they were off.

• • • 

Such was life for a pair of orphans who, lacking any living blood relatives, had been taken in by a small army of family friends. Maddie could still remember sitting on an uncomfortable chair in some hospital or another, mute with shock and covered in ash and sticky with blood. Andrew hadn’t been much better off, but for both their sakes, he managed to answer the questions they were asked. 

The same questions, over and over and over. The same answers, and Maddie had watched her brother’s shoulders sag more and more with each repetition. 

Yes, our parents were with us. Yes, we got separated. No, we don’t know where they are. No, we don’t have any other family. Seven and twelve. Seven and twelve. Seven and twelve. 

The nurses had whispered sadly to each other after bandaging their cuts. They hadn’t whispered very quietly. 

They spent three days in that hospital, sleeping on couches and the occasional spare bed. A new face brought them food for each meal. They waited, all of them, in hopes of hearing about a Mark or Emma Russell found in the wreckage. 

(They were. Found, that is, eventually. Long dead. Neither she nor Andrew were allowed to see their bodies.) 

It was on that third day, when Andrew was just about ready to join his sister in dead-eyed muteness, that they’d heard their names being frantically called from across the large waiting room they’d been sitting in for hours. They hadn’t touched the toys or picture books.

Vivienne Graham had been the one to spot them first, but as fast as she was in getting to them, it was Dr. Serizawa who beat her. They’d both been close family friends for years—for Maddie’s entire life, and for a lot of what Andrew could remember. Still, Maddie was surprised by the ferocity of Dr. Serizawa’s hug when he pulled them both against him. 

Aunt Viv had been but a few steps behind, and it was as two familiar, much-loved adults held them for the first time since tragedy had begun to slip into their lives, that both children cracked. Andrew began to shake as he cried, finally, and Maddie’s voice was rough with disuse and lingering ash when she quietly pleaded, “I want to go home.” 

They took them home. Deprived of their birth parents as they were, neither could claim a lack of love in the years that followed. Aunt Viv had been the first to step up, and any barriers between her and legal adoption had quickly fallen. Shortly after, Aunt Ilene and Aunt Ling had demanded they be added as guardians. 

Dr. Serizawa, fondly referred to simply as Doc by both Andrew and Maddie, had just sort of appeared on the list. No one was sure when. 

And they were all only the official ones. Though no one ever took the place of Mom and Dad, the two of them had no shortage of honorary aunts and uncles.

There was a lot of travel, going back and forth between different bases and civilian homes, but their family was Monarch-made, and for Maddie at least, it helped her grieve and recover. Trying to play house with anyone, well-meaning or not, would only have further reminded her of what they had lost. 

• • • 

“Doc!” Maddie cried before bursting into a run. She managed to avoid crashing into anyone between her and him, and only careful practice with putting on the breaks last second kept her from bowling him over. 

He laughed as he always did when she greeted him like this, and knowing how stressful the past few days of important meetings had probably been, she was glad to provide even temporary relief. 

Andrew wasn’t far behind her, and because he had the audacity to be tall, he squished her between the two of them when he hugged Dr. Serizawa. “Hey, Doc. How are things with the monsters?” 

He stepped back, releasing Maddie in the process. She elbowed his stomach. “Andrew,” she said in a falsely chiding tone, “it’s not nice to call politicians names like that.” 

They snickered at each other as Dr. Serizawa chuckled fondly and shook his head. 

“The meetings go better with each session,” he told them, placing one hand on Maddie’s nearest shoulder and the other on one of Andrew’s. “Thank you both for your help.” 

Andrew bashfully rubbed the back of his neck and Maddie shrugged. “We don’t do much, Doc,” she said. “But we’re glad to help however we can.” 

“Yeah, don’t go getting all mushy on us,” Andrew added. “Family helps family, y’know?” 

“I do know,” Dr. Serizawa said. “You two remind me of that every day.” He made the effort to hold each of their gazes, entirely serious and needing them to know that. Maddie was used to it, and knew Andrew was too. Doc was good at conveying the unspoken. 

He dropped his hands and looked over to the side. “Now then, how does lunch sound? You can tell Dr. Stanton and I all about Mothra’s hatching.” 

• • • 

It wasn’t until some time later that Maddie returned to her favorite room in Castle Bravo: her bedroom. It hadn’t always been—she used to have the room right next to Andrew’s on the civilian residence floor—but she’d been moved to this one over a year ago now. 

It was on a lower level than the rest of the bedrooms, and had used to be a seldom-used lounge area, one of the few without a kitchenette, which was probably why it was rarely occupied. No one had been inconvenienced by the switch, at least. 

There was exactly one thing in this room that made it better than her last one, and that was the giant window taking up almost an entire wall. It left the space chillier than any of the proper bedrooms, but it was nothing an extra blanket or two couldn’t fix. The view out into the ocean more than made up for any possible inconvenience. 

Armed with a blanket and a pack of cards, Maddie plopped down on the floor cushion she never bothered moving away from the window. Outside, the endless dark of the ocean stretched, with the water around the glass lit up by the lights positioned around it. 

Letting a slight smile take up residence on her face, Maddie absently shuffled the deck of cards as she thought about her day. It was always great to come back here, to Castle Bravo. Though she loved Mothra’s temple, it hadn’t been home long enough to compete with this outpost. Any other place in between felt like nothing more than a pitstop. 

She was just wondering how much longer it would be until Mothra left her cocoon when there was movement outside. 

Maddie dropped her hands into her lap, her legs criss-crossed, and looked up. Mere feet in front of her was the King of Titans himself, Godzilla. He lightly tapped the glass with the end of his snout, as he always did. Smiling in welcome, Maddie reached out to fist-bump the window, as she always did. 

“Okay,” she said, because with a Titan there was no need for small talk. “I’ve been practicing this one, and I swear I’ve got it. Growl when you want me to stop.” 

Making sure Godzilla could see what she was doing, Maddie shuffled the deck of cards. Once she was sure she’d proved the randomness of the cards’ order, she tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling. 

One at a time, she thumbed through the cards until Godzilla growled. Taking the card she’d landed on, she picked it up with one hand and used the other to cover her eyes. Making sure the suit was facing out, she pressed it against the window and told him, “Remember this one, ’cause I’m gonna find it again without seeing what it is.”

She made sure to hold it there until she heard a huff. 

Continuing to keep her gaze averted, Maddie returned the card to its original place. She finally looked down and made the magic happen. Countless practice attempts with Andrew would finally pay off tonight. Godzilla waited patiently.

“Is this your card?” Maddie asked, slapping the end product up to the window. 

Godzilla tossed his head back and roared, sending a cascade of bubbles rushing upward. His spines flickered as he wiggled his body. A four-hundred-foot-tall Titan who could convert radiation into laser breath, and he was unfailing impressed by sleight-of-hand magic tricks. 

Maddie laughed as the current his movements caused made her room tremble lightly. This was their ritual of sorts, always performed on the first night of her return. She had no idea how he always knew just when to show up, but he hadn’t missed a day since the first time he saw her do a trick for Andrew near the window in the hub. 

She’d switched bedrooms on that same visit, and her first night back was spent just like this one, with her sitting on the floor, showing off the new cheesy magic trick she’d learned.

After setting the cards aside, Maddie gave him an update on Mothra and talked until she was yawning every other minute. At that point, Godzilla jerked his chin in the direction of her bed. She rolled her eyes as she stood up, with a snarky “Yes, dad,” thrown in between yawns, and bid him goodnight. 

• • • 

Andrew burst into her bedroom the next morning with a tray full of breakfast food. Since this was as normal as Godzilla’s visits, Maddie had made sure she’d be awake before he arrived. 

They ate on her bed and didn’t bother with the don’t talk with your mouth full rule. They were just finishing up when the base shook lightly, and a moment later, Godzilla zipped by outside. He circled back around, easily seen with the way his spines were glowing, and this time, swam by more slowly. 

Maddie scooted to the edge of her bed and had only just stood up when he rumbled loudly and twisted to head for the surface. She looked back at her bewildered brother, and when Godzilla didn’t return, the two of them left the room. 

Both still in their pajamas, they ran into Rick near the hub, and he waved them upwards with a wide grin. 

“The hell is going on?” Andrew muttered as they entered the elevator that went all the way up to the top deck. 

The answer was self-evident the moment the doors slid open. For a second, Maddie thought she was staring into the sun, but then the light dimmed and the shape at the center of the blinding brightness resolved into Mothra. 

“You’re here!” she cried, rushing out of the elevator. “And, holy—your wings!” 

Mothra’s wings were beautiful, and still glowing, and Maddie was only interrupted from staring up at them in awe by a huge spray of water that shot up beside Castle Bravo. She left Andrew to run over to the railing. Down below, Godzilla tossed his head and roared. He twisted sharply, in a very particular way, and she watched his tail raise and slap down before she could even think to retreat. 

She yelped as the cold water rained down on her. Godzilla rumbled loudly, laughing, as Andrew joined her with a snicker of his own. 

“Hm,” he said, holding his hand out, palm up. “The forecast didn’t mention anything about rain today.” 

“I will push you over the railing.” 

“Maybe we should’ve brought an umbrella.” 

Maddie bent down and wrapped her arms around her brother’s knees. He shrieked, tightly gripping the railing, as she started to stand up. Godzilla huffed and slapped his tail again, getting the both of them wet.

She only released him when Andrew called, “Mercy, mercy!” And then she ran before he could return the favor. At first, she didn’t have a plan on where to go to defend herself, but then she spotted Mothra dipping below the edge of the base with a trill, and, well…

Beating Andrew to the other side of the platform with time to spare, Maddie climbed over the railing and jumped. 

She was disoriented for a second after landing, but it passed quickly, allowing her to sit up and turn around. Mothra had gained a little bit of altitude while she’d been distracted, so she was left with a lovely view of her brother standing on Castle Bravo below her. 

After having a good laugh about it—and having extracted a promise that he wouldn’t shove her off—Maddie didn’t protest when Mothra swooped back down to collect Andrew. Once they were both secure atop her, she began a slow glide over the ocean, Godzilla trailing along right below her. 

It took a few minutes before something occurred to Maddie. She laughed, turned to Andrew, and said, “We probably should’ve told someone we were leaving.” 

Realization crossed his face. “Ah. Uh, they’ll… figure it out?”

“Oh, for sure,” Maddie agreed, leaning back on her hands. “Doesn’t mean there won’t be a bit of panic first.” 

“What if,” Andrew said slowly, “we argue that we’re allowed to leave the base with our guardians.” He tilted his head at her meaningfully. 

Maddie nodded. “You have a point. Aunt Ilene doesn’t have to tell Aunt Ling that she’s taking us somewhere, after all. Why would this be any different?” 

“No difference at all.” 

“We were following the rules.” 

“Exactly. We’re obedient little angels.” 

They caught each others’ eyes and immediately lost it. When their giggles finally petered out, the two of them slumped against one another, they found Mothra had landed. Not on actual land, naturally, but on Godzilla’s chest, as he was floating on his back. 

Maddie scooted closer to the edge of Mothra’s body, away from her wings. With the way she was settled, they weren’t too high above the water anymore. 

“We’re in our pajamas, Maddie,” Andrew half-heartedly protested, because of course he saw her intentions as clearly as if she had them written across her forehead. 

“Yeah, and?” 

“And nothing, that was my only argument.” 

She grinned. “Glad we’re on the same page, then.” Popping up to her feet, Maddie took the last step or two and leapt off Mothra’s back, managing a decent flip before splashing into the ocean. 

• • • 

After over an hour of swimming and jumping off various Titan limbs, Maddie and Andrew had finally flopped down, exhausted. Any lingering chill was chased away within moments of them sprawling across Godzilla’s scales. Mothra hadn’t moved from her original perch, which put them close enough for her to lean down and nuzzle. 

Maddie was on the verge of giving up on trying to stay awake when Andrew snorted suddenly. 

“What?” she asked. 

“Nothing, just—do you think we could convince our small army of aunts and uncles to include these two in the ‘who’s got the kids this week’ rotation?” 

She laughed a little, just imagining that conversation, and lifted her head up to peer over at Godzilla, who gazed back at her. She was no expert, but she’d say he looked pretty happy. “How about it, big guy? Feel like applying for partial guardianship?” 

“It’d have to be a team effort,” Andrew added, waving up at Mothra, who chirped in response. 

Godzilla, by all accounts, appeared to consider it for a second before letting his head drop back into the water. And then his chest rumbled and grew warmer beneath the siblings, and a bright beam of blue light shot into the sky. It held for a few seconds, its hum crackling around them. 

After he swallowed his atomic breath back down, he capped it off with a relatively soft roar.

“Sounds like a yes to me,” Andrew said, grinning widely. 

Mothra, not about to be outdone, raised her wings to show off the eyespots on the ends and proceeded to upstage the sun with the sheer amount of light she emitted. 

“How ’bout that,” Maddie said once she finished with a trill. She knew she smiling uncontrollably. “Two for two. Looks like we’ve got ourselves a new pair of guardians.” 

Chapter Text

It was a tragic thing, they whispered. How sad, that in the wake of her brother’s death, young Madison Russell created an imaginary friend out of her brother’s memory. Her parents discouraged it in the beginning, of course, but they were hardly handling his death any better. She barely took any time to mourn, according to the rumors. The same day as he was laid to rest, a week after the tragedy, Maddie was seen giggling, whispering, smiling at thin air. 

It wasn’t right, they said. 

Her claims that she was playing with Andrew were not received well by her parents. It wasn’t long before she learned to stop bringing her brother up, though if one were to watch her closely, they would see that her silence did not equate to her losing her imaginary friend. 

Her mother and father, rather preoccupied with other matters, didn’t pay enough attention to her in those early months to notice any of her tells. Or any of the strange things that happened—or, in some cases, didn’t happen—to their daughter. 

Maddie developed an odd habit of looking off to the side during conversations, of smiling when no one had spoken, of laughing when no joke was made. She could tell a well-crafted lie from an absurd truth without fail. Whenever she tripped, she miraculously seemed to catch herself, and anything she dropped, no matter how fragile, never broke. 

It was impossible for her to get lost. Her scrapes and bruises healed overnight. Sickness couldn’t touch her. 

By the time her parents were not so quick to put her aside, Maddie had grown subtler in her unusual habits, though she never quite lost them. It never occurred to them to wonder how Maddie went year after year without getting so much as a sore throat or a sniffle. Certainly, even if it had, they could not have guessed the cause of her unnaturally good health was her imaginary friend. 

Ah, but the truth was, Maddie did not have an imaginary friend. On the contrary, she had a guardian angel. 

It just happened to be her brother. 

• • • 

Little seven-year-old Maddie had woken up exactly one week after San Francisco and found her brother sitting on the end of her bed in Boston. He glowed a little around the edges, as if he was backlit by a strong white light, and a pair of silvery-white wings speckled with red jutted out from his back. 

She stared at him. He frowned. 

“Am I dreaming?” she finally asked. It was a pretty cruel dream, if it was. The past few days had been nightmarish enough. 

Andrew straightened up with wide eyes. “You can see me?” 

Nodding slowly, Maddie sat up and scooted closer to him, bunching her covers up in her lap. “Is that bad?” 

“No,” he said after a moment of internal debate. “I just don’t think you’re supposed to be able to.” 

“Oh,” Maddie said, and then she nearly sent herself tumbling off the bed in a rush to hug him. 

For a stomach-dropping second, she was terrified that her hands would pass right through him or something, because that usually seemed to happen in movies with ghosts. But she slammed into him, sobbed with relief, and pressed her face into his shoulder. 

She didn’t leave her room for a long time that morning, but that was okay. It wasn’t like her parents were going to get up before noon anyway, even with the funeral later, and she had adopted a similar habit. If her absence was noticed, it certainly wasn’t surprising. 

But how could she even think of leaving her bed when her brother was back, was right there, whispering that he was all right, really, Maddie, I promise—and wrapping his wings around the both of them. 

By the end of the day, she knew two things: her parents couldn’t see, hear, or touch Andrew, and they didn’t believe that she could either. 

It made her sad for them, that they couldn’t have him back too, but Andrew had patted her shoulder and said, “There’s nothing we can do for them, Maddie. They’ll just get more upset if you keep pushing.” 

“You won’t leave tonight, will you?” she asked quietly as she trudged up the stairs to her room.

“Nope!” Andrew said, cheerfully fluffing his wings. “I’ll never leave you, Maddie. I’m your guardian angel now!” 

She gasped. “Really? They’re real? How come no one ever talks about them?” 

“’Cause people aren’t supposed to see us, duh. I don’t know why you can.” 

“Well, I don’t care about how or why I can see you. I’m just happy you’re not gone gone.” She sat down on her bed and kicked her feet back and forth. “So do you just watch over me?” 

“Kinda, I guess. I dunno, maybe I can do more since you know I’m here.” 

A pair of curious children, one of whom was a guardian angel with special powers, lots of questions that required testing, and no parental supervision. What could go wrong? 

• • • 

Since acquiring a guardian angel with healing powers—who knew, angel kisses actually did make everything better—Maddie had only gotten one scar. 

It was from the beginning of Andrew’s return, before he really had a handle on the healing thing. 

They’d been testing stuff out. Could he touch real world things? Could he communicate with other people at all? Did dogs or cats know he was there? Eventually, the question of whether he could heal her came up.

Maddie, in a bout of seven-year-old wisdom, jumped off a chainlink fence at a nearby park—only she didn’t jump far enough out from it. A broken bit of metal had stuck out, snagging her shirt and slicing through her back as she fell. 

There’d been enough blood for Andrew to panic, despite Maddie’s insistence that she was fine, it just stung really badly. 

Thoroughly alarmed, he’d lifted her torn shirt and shoved his hand against the middle of the thin, long cut. Maddie had yelped and lurched away, shocked by the horrible burning sensation that had washed over her injury. 

In his zeal, Andrew hadn’t quite tempered his powers, hadn’t quite guided them right. The cut had vanished, but right where he’d put his palm was a perfect imprint of his hand. It wasn’t raised, it didn’t hurt. It was just a small section of her skin that was slightly puckered around the edges, and nearly completely white. 

The next time he tried to heal her, nearly two weeks later, he was much more careful when approaching her scrapped knees. They didn’t leave a mark. The Handprint Incident was never repeated. 

• • • 

They discovered after a year or so that Andrew kinda-sorta grew with Maddie. He aged at the same rate as she did, despite being dead, so when she was eight, he was thirteen, and when she was nine, he was fourteen. 

But sometimes, when he was distressed or frustrated, or distracted by some other arguably negative emotion, he went back to being twelve. It seemed like that was his default form, which he found irritating, never mind that no one but his sister could even see him. 

It was the principle of the thing. He was her big brother, and now he had the ultimate opportunity to protect her. He couldn’t be younger than her.

• • • 

Maddie’s twelfth birthday messed Andrew up a bit. He didn’t want to admit it to her, but he was suddenly terrified.

His little sister was officially the same age as he’d been when he died. 

She had to beat him, had to live longer than he had. She just had to. 

Luckily, as her ever-watchful guardian angel, he was in the perfect position to ensure she did exactly that. 

• • •

Andrew waited until Maddie had fallen asleep. He slipped out of the room by passing straight through the wall, a trick he’d learned long ago. He flew through the night and touched down to navigate the familiar hallways of Outpost 61. 

The base was silent. If there was anyone still at work, he didn’t encounter them. 

Just like he had for months now, Andrew slipped into the chamber holding Mothra’s egg and took a seat right on top it. Stretching his wings out, he listened to the calming pulse coming from below him. 

Finally, he felt ready to speak. “I’m so scared for her, Mothra. Mom’s gone crazy, and Dad’s not taking the hint. She’s trying to clue him in that something is wrong without tipping anyone else off. I could strangle that awful man for invading her privacy like that, checking emails and monitoring calls.” 

He balled his fists up. There was a lot he could do as a guardian angel. But there was also a lot he couldn’t do. Directly hurt people was one of the latter. Sure, if he focused, he could mess with someone—trip them up, knock their stuff over, open their door to spook them. Unfortunately, though, as much as he wanted to toss Alan Jonah and his terrorist followers off the nearest mountain, he couldn’t. His purpose was to help Maddie, and while he would argue that taking them out would be helping Maddie, he wasn’t meant to cause harm. 

Stupid rules. Stupid limitations. 

“Take a bite out of them for me, will you?” he asked the egg. “From one winged creature to another?” 

Ranting to a Titan’s egg like this was odd, but very therapeutic. 

“And Mom,” he continued after calming himself down a bit. “I just… I can’t believe her. She says she’s doing all this for me. To make my death not be pointless.” 

Of course, if you asked him, he would say that death had been one of the most fulfilling things that had ever happened to him. He was a guardian angel, for goodness sake. He couldn’t be more full of purpose. 

As great as it would be to not have died, Andrew had long since come to terms with it. He didn’t need someone spending their life trying to give his death meaning, or destroying the world in his name. He only wished he had some way of telling his mom that. 

She hadn’t listened to Maddie. And it wasn’t like she would have believed Maddie if she told Mom that Andrew was standing right there. 

They’d been down that road before. Everything was either a coincidence or her imagination. It didn’t help that his abilities short-circuited on the rare occasion he actually tried to reveal himself. 

So they were on their own, especially since Dad was holed up in a cabin somewhere in the wilderness. 

“We can’t stop her,” Andrew confessed, forever at least a little angry about it. “Maddie’s tried to talk to her. I think she’s about ready to just run over the stupid ORCA a couple times, and I’d let her, if I thought there was some way she could avoid being found out.” 

And there wasn’t, because of Jonah. Jonah, who had quickly become the bane of his existence. If ever a guardian angel had to face off with a wicked human, this was that. Because, as fate would have it, Jonah was the only person on the planet who clearly suspected that something wasn’t quite right around Maddie. 

Obviously, he couldn’t see Andrew. No one but Maddie could. It was a truly cruel joke on the universe’s part that he actually might have believed Andrew existed.

He made both of them uncomfortable for that reason alone. Everything else about him just made it worse. 

So, because he was suspicious, Jonah kept his eyes open. He kept careful watch over Maddie. He invaded her privacy. He asked her questions that the two of them knew were traps. And he was standing in the way of Maddie getting help or escaping.

Andrew lived in fear of what he might do to her someday. He absolutely could not allow her to piss him off.

“Our hands are tied. Neither of us can do anything,” he said, patting Mothra’s egg. “So it’s up to you guys to fix this. If only we could actually tell you that.” 

• • • 

Andrew had been itching to pull Maddie out of the temple from the moment Mothra started hatching. His gut was telling him everything was about to go wrong, and he knew to trust his angelic gut instincts. 

Everything just… it all happened so fast. He practically blinked and his baby sister was suddenly out there, in the same room as the angry Titan. 

(He was only slightly ashamed to admit to himself that he hadn’t freaked when his mom went out there. Something angry and vindictive in his core was almost pleased about it. Whoever said angels were pure beings of pure thoughts were wrong.) 

Maddie was on the catwalk, Mom was fiddling with the ORCA, and Mothra was about ready to bring the whole place down. No way was he letting an overgrown moth kill his little sister. Andrew phased through the glass window, planted his feet behind Maddie, anchoring her with his hands on her shoulders, and flared his silver-white wings behind him. 

“Enough!” he shouted, his voice booming in a very not-human way. The pulse of the earth skipped a beat, and light flickered for a moment in the chamber. Maddie pressed back into him, warm where he was only ever room temperature these days. 

His wings reached high above them, a shield and warning both. The feathers curved inwards the slightest bit, and if anyone other than his sister could have seen him, he knew he would have looked terrifying. 

Mothra froze for a second before screeching in their direction. She stopped thrashing, stopped attacking, and just seemed to stare. 

“Can she see you?” Maddie whispered wondrously. 

“I don’t know,” he whispered back. Sure, he didn’t need to worry about staying quiet like she did, to avoid looking crazy, but siblings were meant to whisper back and forth. A technicality like being dead wasn’t going to stop him. 

Their mom twisted around from where she was kneeling before the ORCA to stare back at them—er, at Maddie. “What did you do?” she asked. Her tone bordered on accusatory, which made Andrew’s blood boil on principle. 

“Nothing!” Maddie said, holding her hands up in a pacifying gesture. 

Mothra swayed back and forth a little before bending forward with a trilling purr. Mom scrambled out of the way with the ORCA in tow, but the Titan didn’t make any aggressive moves. 

While their mom was distracted with her stupid device, Maddie slipped by her, which made Andrew choke a little, because while he was sure Mothra was nice and all, those moments where she’d freaked out were playing on loop in his head. 

He glared up at her, daring her to even try harming his sister under his watch. Though there was no way to tell exactly where Mothra was looking, he felt her gaze like a sparking wire across his skin. It faded only when Maddie’s hand pressed against Mothra’s face. 

So. Titans could see him. The jury was out on whether or not that was a good thing. 

• • • 

It was a good thing. It was a very very good thing, because if he hadn’t been able to threaten Monster Zero, he—well, Andrew didn’t particularly want to think about what ifs. 

His eyes stung oddly in the immediate aftermath of Antarctica. Before now, being dead meant a rather nice lack of aches and pains. To feel hurt again was jarring. 

Maddie was curled up on the bench, hiding the way she was clutching his hand between hers. They were ice-cold, and Andrew wished he had body heat to offer. There were shiny tear tracks on her cheeks, and every time she opened her eyes, she stared in a way that was both distant and focused. 

The ice exploding, the catwalk warping. Monster Zero writhing around too soon, while the underground base was still full of its invading humans. Electricity, yellow and sharp and poison to his senses, latching onto anything and everything. 

A bolt arcing through the air toward Maddie. The catwalk buckling, breaking apart, falling down. Maddie falling down. 

Andrew rubbed at his eyes with his free hand and tried to picture something else. Anything else. 

The three-headed monster, poised above the bright snow, deciding the fates of the humans scurrying across the ice like ants. A flash of teeth, the coiling of muscles like a snake about to lunge. 

He’d been fast enough, Andrew angrily reminded himself. He’d caught her; he’d pulled her out of the way, and no one was the wiser for his interference. It’d seem like sheer dumb luck to any outsider paying attention. 

He’d shrieked wordless rage at the approaching head, his wings straining higher than ever. Something had clicked, or popped, in his head, just behind his eyes. And Monster Zero’s teeth had missed their mark. 

Godzilla had arrived soon after, and then Monster Zero’s hissing, wriggling confusion had turned into an ancient wrath. 

So Maddie was bruised, and cold, and her ankle probably hurt from the awkward landing, and maybe the shower of broken ice had hit her head—but she was alive. 

(She was still only twelve. She had to see her thirteenth birthday. She just had to.)

He’d heal her as soon as possible, once they were behind closed doors and Jonah’s watchful, narrowed eyes couldn’t find proof of his suspicions, whatever they might be. By tomorrow, Maddie wouldn’t have so much as a scrape. Big brother’s prerogative.

In the meantime, Andrew let her clutch his hand as he tried to figure out what exactly he’d done to make Monster Zero fling himself away, radiating pain of his own. 

• • • 

The less said about what happened in the bunker—seeing Dad, hearing Mom’s explanation in full, watching her wake Rodan, and witnessing the conversation between Maddie and Mom afterwards—the better for Andrew’s fraying temper. 

He tried to ignore the little voice in the back of his head, wondering if a guardian angel could kill a human. That was a dangerous path to go down, for his own sake more than anything. He didn’t particularly want to be the type of person—dead or alive—who would kill someone else. 

For Maddie, though… that pesky little voice whispered. 

But there was no time to argue with it, or succumb to it, or even worse—prove it right. Because his little sister, his brave, stupid sister who still managed to find trouble even with a literal guardian angel hovering over her shoulders, was making her move. Maddie wouldn’t stay idle any longer, and Andrew knew there was nothing he could say to change her mind, even if he wanted to.

Because Maddie was grabbing the ORCA and getting ready to make a run for it, and really. Andrew, all fury and wings and protection, followed. There was only one way this was going to go.

• • • 

Monster Zero’s blast blinded him, and Andrew lost sight of his sister. Worried she was still too close to the crumbling building, he kept his focus there, searching, until it was too late. 

Those devil heads had her in their sights and he was on the other side of the field and he was about to watch her die and there was nothing he could do—

Maddie roared up at them, and while it was no guardian angel’s shriek of protective fury, Monster Zero hesitated and that. That was all Andrew needed. 

“Don’t touch her!” Lightning that didn’t belong to Monster Zero streaked through the clouds and a brief shudder rolled through the ground. 

By the time Godzilla stormed across the city, atomic breath pouring from his maw, Monster Zero had already been howling in pain. His distraction cost him. 

And Andrew’s vision was white at the edges, his eyes burning. Maddie grabbed his hand—she didn’t need to and that she did it anyway warmed him down to his soul—and ran from the clashing Titans with him in tow. 

He took to the air once she had escaped the immediate danger, and he flew over her as she darted through the streets. More than once, he deflected airborne rubble from her direction, batting chunks of concrete and scorched cars down into the street like one would spike a volleyball. 

When Mothra and Rodan arrived and started taking out entire blocks with their wrestling, Andrew dared stray closer in their direction, intent on putting a stop to them before they could kill his sister. At least Godzilla and Monster Zero were tussling ever-further away. 

Rodan did a double take as he soared by, and Andrew wasn’t quite sure what happened, because he went entirely blind for an agonizingly long thirty seconds or so, and when his vision returned, Rodan was a speck fleeing into the distance. Andrew’s skin felt tight.

Mothra trailed closer with an inquisitive trill. The edges of her wings were singed, and a sort of tiredness radiated from her. 

A thought crossed Andrew’s mind. She could see him like Maddie did, so did that mean he could heal her too? It was worth a shot. 

He flew closer, up to her face, and when she didn’t recoil from him, he laid a hand on her forehead like Maddie had done when Mothra first hatched. A little shock traveled between them, but he could almost see her surprise when Mothra straightened up, her wings once again in pristine condition. 

Andrew stared into her eyes—one winged creature to another—and wondered whether he would’ve seen something different had he been human. 

She bowed her head slightly before flapping her wings harder, sending her shooting away. He dove down, searching for Maddie in the ruins. She stood in the street outside a familiar building, her face upturned into the rain, looking for him. 

All roads lead home, he thought as he dropped to the concrete beside her. It was only then, standing face to face with her, that he realized he’d returned to his default age of twelve. They were the same height, and for all their differences, Andrew felt like he was looking into a mirror. 

Her face was dirt smudged and her shirt was ripped. The city was dark and burning around them, and of course, of course, it would all come down to a cruel parallel of the day he’d died. He hadn’t had a guardian angel to protect him then. Today would be different for Maddie.

He herded her inside even as she asked where he’d disappeared to. Andrew didn’t get the chance to answer. The ground shook, and a too-close roar sent him into a panic. 

He looked into Maddie’s eyes even as he felt his power expand, press at the seams of his skin, surge from the feathers of his wings, and he choked before he could warn her to close her eyes. 

• • •

When Mark and Emma Russell arrived at their old Boston home a few minutes later, it was the only sliver of the building—of the block—still standing. Wall to wall, ground to roof, it was untouched. 

• • •

In the months after the great fight between their King and his would-be usurper, a whispered rumor had crossed the world twice over. All the newly-awoken Titans wondered at the presence of this newcomer the rumor told of. None could say whether it was one of them; it certainly hadn’t responded to any alpha call, of the true King or otherwise. Those who had seen it spoke of its unusual appearance.

It was a twisted, fearsome thing with enough limbs to rival Scylla. It possessed some form of camouflage, for it was so difficult to see when it wasn’t baring its fangs or flaring its wings. It was easy to forget it was even there, until it screeched and shrieked loud enough to send pain pulsing through their heads. 

Its limbs were long and thin, knobby in a way, but corded with muscle. It was most often seen crouched on its haunches, curled protectively over the small human it constantly followed. When it stretched to its full height, straightening out its backwards knees and cracking its bony spine into place, it towered above its surroundings like any true Titan.

The creature’s face was smooth and bone-white, the surface only broken up by a dozen blazing eyes, eyes that burned like the hearts of stars, and they froze with the same chill of space. Ghidorah could attest to that, had he not been dead. 

Yet, it had healed, too. Mothra’s wings had carried her to the end of the battle, and beyond. 

Its jaw was segmented and split apart in the center when it screamed, a forked tongue flicking amongst rows of razor sharp teeth and wicked fangs. It had sunk those fangs into Rodan, leaving wounds that bled black.

It guarded its human with wrathful protectiveness from humans and Titans alike. The human child, oddly enough, seemed entirely aware of the creature—odder still, she appeared wholly fond and familiar with it. No other member of her kind interacted with it in any way. 

The creature, great and terrible as it was, expressed little interest in dealing with anyone of any species, with one exception besides its charge: those who threatened harm to the human child. 

• • •

Andrew ceased to be for a while. He was dispersed, formless, exhausted. It’d been a long day, and even a guardian angel’s seemingly infinite well of power apparently had a bottom, and he’d been scraping it. 

That last, truly conscious thought—not instinct, not wordless need or command—rang through his nonexistent head, serving as an anchor. Better yet, a tether.

All roads lead home, and exactly twelve days after he prevented a Titan from leveling a particular section of a building, he opened his eyes to find himself standing right in front of Maddie. 

When her arms wrapped around him, an angry-relieved cry bursting from her lungs, his wings curved forward as he hunched over—his seventeen years of height beating out her twelve. The feathers brushed against her spine and kept going until his wings overlapped, completely engulfing her, and he sighed as he listened to her heartbeat. 

Maddie was okay. He was okay. He was back. 

He was home.

Chapter Text

A day after her seventh birthday, Maddie was woken from her sleep by a loud thump and familiar groaning behind her. “Go away, Andrew,” she muttered into her pillow, refusing to open her eyes. 

There was a long pause, where she couldn’t even hear him breathing, before he made a choked, sobbing sound. 

It was so out of the ordinary for her brother that Maddie wrestled her sheets to roll around to face her room, and in the dim glow of her nightlight, she made out his crumpled silhouette on her carpet. He was shuddering terribly, crying and heaving for breath. 

“Andrew?” Panicked, Maddie scrambled out of bed and knelt beside him. He shook his head, curled in on himself, and didn’t answer. “What happened? Should I get Mom and Dad?” 

“No,” he rasped, voice scratchy and weak. One hand unwrapped from around his stomach to gently latch onto her wrist. His palm felt wrong. “Don’t.” 

As her eyes adjusted, Maddie frowned over the state her brother was in. Instead of his pajamas, he was wearing jeans and sneakers, and a t-shirt with a rumpled zip-up sweatshirt. And he was filthy. There was dust or something staining his hand dark gray, and his clothes looked as if he’d rolled around in the backyard. 

He lifted his head, allowing her to see his face. She gasped and recoiled backward. There were cuts across his cheeks and forehead, leaking blood, and his eyes were glassy. Maddie looked down, suddenly intent to spot other injuries, and found his hand to be an angry red with burns pressed into his palm. 

“I’m getting Mom!” she cried, starting to stand up. 

“No!” He kept his grip on her wrist, nearly tripping her. 

“You’re hurt!” 

“I’m—” He seemed to choke on his insistence that he was fine. “Just… I don’t want you to get Mom and Dad.” Andrew wiped his other sleeve across his eyes, swiping away his tears. Blood and dirt streaked over the rise of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. 

Maddie wavered, poised on one knee. “But…” 

Andrew tugged her closer and wrapped his arms around her. She automatically lifted her own to grip at the back of his sweatshirt. His forehead pressed against her shoulder, and he shook beneath her hands. 

Reluctant and confused, she settled down and held him tight. “Are you okay?” she whispered after a long minute. 

He pulled back enough to give her a broken smile. “No. But you don’t need to worry, all right? Mom had you, I saw her. I saw her. And I… I think I heard Dad. So they’re okay, and you’re okay, and that’s… that’s it.” 

She shook her head. “I don’t understand. What are you talking about?” 

“I don’t understand either,” he said with a short burst of hysterical laughter. “I was there, and now I’m here.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to get Mom and Dad?” 

With a sigh, Andrew fully leaned back. “I’m sure, Maddie. It wouldn’t help, anyway, I don’t think.” His eyes frantically flitted over her. “I want you to promise me something.” 

Maddie fidgeted anxiously. “Okay.” 

She eeped when he suddenly reached out and gripped her shoulders. “Promise that you’ll always get back up, no matter what happens. Promise me that you’ll never let the monsters win.” 

Thoroughly freaked out, Maddie could only hastily nod and say, “I promise, I promise.” 

He released her like he was a puppet whose strings had been cut. “Good,” he said, staring blankly into space. “Good.” 

Maddie wasn’t quite sure what happened after that, because everything went kinda swimmy, and the next thing she knew, she was opening her bleary eyes in bed, sunlight seeping in around her blinds.

She almost thought it’d been a dream. But there were dark smudges on her carpet, and she had no explanation to offer her worried parents about the large, dried blood stain on her pajama shirt’s shoulder. Especially not when Andrew looked as confused as them, and didn’t have even a single cut on his face.

• • •

Mark was drunk. He knew that, but didn’t particularly care. His new home in Colorado was dark and smelled musty. His belongings were scattered about the place, some unpacked, some still sealed up in cardboard boxes. 

The armchair he was slumped in had come with the house and was worn thin. The fabric was torn beyond repair. A suspicious stain covered the left armrest. He’d get rid of it soon. Just, not now. 

He fidgeted with the neck of the nearly-empty glass bottle dangling from his right hand, limply hanging over the armrest. 

The numbness was nice, but it wouldn’t last. He’d dream about his son tonight, he was sure. It’d been one of those days, and no amount of alcohol was going to help. 

Didn’t stop him from trying, though. 

A nearby thump roused him from his dismal thoughts. It sounded like someone had tripped over something, and had resorted to stumbling awkwardly to catch themself. 

It would be just his luck for someone to try and rob him on his first official night in the house. Like with his drunken state, though, Mark couldn’t quite bring himself to care. If anything, he probably looked more like a trespasser, with his six-day-old clothes, unchecked facial hair, and his drunkenness in the dark.

His eyes were well-adjusted enough, if a bit blurry from drinking, to spot the apparent intruder. To his surprise, they were approaching him, slowly and clearly hesitant. The silhouette was small, like that of a child. 

It was too good of a match for Andrew, so much so that Mark wasn’t surprised when the apparition—for how could it be anything else?—spoke in his son’s voice. 

“Dad?” 

“Not bad,” he muttered, saluting the hallucination with his bottle. “You really sound like him.” 

“Are you drunk?” Andrew asked, sounding horrified. It really was an impressive recreation. 

“What’s new?” Mark asked himself. He stumbled to his feet and very carefully made his way to the light switch for the single lamp he’d gotten hooked up earlier. He flinched at the sudden presence of light, squinting his eyes with a hiss. 

He turned back to the figment of his imagination and nearly vomited. 

Andrew was ashy and streaked with blood. His clothes were torn and filthy. Tears morbidly left their trails down his cheeks. He was clearly pale beneath it all, and his eyes were wide and shiny. 

It probably wasn’t far off from what his son had actually looked like just before his death. 

Mark laughed hoarsely and leaned back against the wall. Sliding down to sit on the floor, he squinted at Andrew, taking in every detail. “’S probably appropriate,” he mumbled, lolling his head back and forth against the wall behind him. “Couldn’t save ’im, so I see his last moments. A punishment for my failure.” 

“Dad…” Andrew said, devastated. He slowly got closer and knelt down beside him. “I’m not a punishment, Dad.” He sniffled. “I think I’m just here to say goodbye.” 

“G’bye?” 

Andrew nodded with a twisted, sad smile. “I just got done with Maddie. It’s happened, then, I guess. I’m already dead.” 

“I almost didn’t go t’your funeral,” Mark confessed. It was the first time he’d admitted that to anyone, but a ghostly hallucination brought on by too much grief drinking wasn’t going to judge him. “Too scared to see the coffin. ’S empty.” 

His son’s face crumpled. “You never find me, then?” 

Mark shook his head. “You were just… gone.” A hysterical little noise exploded out of him, and hot tears trailed down his cheeks and into his unkempt scruff. “I lost you.” 

He cried for a while, eyes squeezed shut to avoid looking at his son’s face. At one point, he felt a gentle, warm touch on his hand, and the bottle was pulled from his unresisting fingers. 

Exhaustion, grief, and drunkenness dragged him into sleep. He woke with a crick in his neck, an ache in his back, and a throbbing head. The memory of his illusion was muted and dull, the details unclear. 

Bizarrely, as he suffered through his hangover, he discovered every last bottle of alcohol in the house sat in a group beside the kitchen sink, each completely empty. It was out of character for him to try and deal with his alcoholism while drinking—he was a grieving drunk, not one who sought to better himself.

Only the faintest impression of Andrew’s face remained from that night, and it was a memory he was quick, and glad, to dismiss. 

• • • 

“She’s right,” Emma heard behind her. She turned and felt a numbness spread through her whole body. Andrew stood there, ashy and twelve-years-old, blood streaked across his face. 

It was the most accurate visual and auditory hallucination she’d ever experienced. 

“What?” she absently asked, distracted by the impressive details. 

“Maddie called you a monster,” he reminded her. Though the hallways was silent but for the two of them, Emma imagined she could still hear the echo of Maddie’s accusation and her angry footsteps as she retreated. “She’s right. You’re hurting people in my name. I don’t want that.” 

“Is this a last attempt by my conscience to reach me?” Emma asked curiously. She contemplated doing a quick medical check on herself, just to see if her heart rate and brain waves were normal. 

“I don’t know what it is,” the hallucination of her son said, sounding bitter. “I just know I should be dead, but I’m not.” 

Emma ducked her head to better examine the state of his clothes. If she had to guess, they were modeled off his last moments alive, in San Francisco. “Fascinating,” she mumbled. “Why would my subconscious play you as if you weren’t yet dead.” She considered him. “Perhaps to try and appeal to me, convince me that you can still be saved if only I put a stop to our plan. Or… as a punishment?” 

“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Andrew said, ignoring her just as she ignored him. “You and Dad were always so similar.” 

Her phone beeped before she could attempt to parse out what her subconscious meant by that. She turned away, already distracted, and made it a few steps before thinking to see if her hallucination would be accompanying her. 

But the corridor behind her was empty, and Emma was left with both her children’s voices in her head, telling her she was a monster.

• • •

Andrew stood in the grass, wet with early morning dew, and stared down at his own headstone. 

Though years had passed—five of them, as far as he could tell—for his family since that day in San Francisco, it’d been a mere hour since he had expected to meet his demise. 

At first, when his ears popped and his vision went dark, he’d thought that was it. He was dead. And then, when Maddie’s bedroom had slowly filtered in, he thought he was having one of those “my life flashed before my eyes” experiences. But Maddie had touched him, hugged him, had been concerned but not shocked to see him. 

It was enough for him to realize he wasn’t dead for her. Not yet, evidently. 

Time travel was impossible, until it suddenly wasn’t. Until he’d stood in his sister’s bedroom only days before he died. 

By the time he’d found himself standing before his mother, the truth had settled within him. It was a goodbye tour of sorts, allowing him to see each of his family members for the last time. Why or how it was happening, he didn’t know. He almost didn’t want to know. 

It made sense, then, in a morbid way, that he’d end his journey saying goodbye to himself. To his body, if it was even down there. Based on his conversation with Dad, he didn’t think it was.

Andrew wasn’t an adult. He was just twelve when the fires and ash and rubble came for him in the streets of San Francisco. There was so much he hadn’t done. 

The world around him seemed peaceful, at least, which hopefully meant someone had stopped Mom. He could take that with him—the brilliant sunrise cresting over the cemetery, the earth still intact. He didn’t know where he was, where his family had buried him. 

It was quiet, empty. Mist hung in the air, making him feel very, very alone. 

Shrugging helplessly to himself, Andrew crouched down and reached out. His fingers dragged over the stone, tracing his name etched into it. It wasn’t old and worn yet. Barely even dirty. Maybe his grave had been moved, or the stone replaced. 

How many people got to touch their own headstone after it had been set in the cemetery? 

“Well,” he whispered, hesitant to break the calm silence. “Goodbye, I guess.” 

A tight feeling lodged itself inside him, like a cord pulled taut. He almost wished he could cry—to mourn himself, mourn the person he might have been, the person who was living on borrowed time—but he felt like he’d gotten the worst out between Maddie and Dad. 

Mostly, he wished he had someone to extract a promise from, one his corpse certainly couldn’t help with. A promise to watch out for and take care of his family in his absence. 

Andrew shakily stood and closed his eyes, not wanting to have to watch his vision fade out again, for the last time. 

The tight feeling tugged. The sound of the breeze and the early birds chirping went muffled, like someone was pressing pillows to his ears. His fingers tingled and his breath caught in his lungs. 

It was a kinder death than the one he should have had. Instead of a falling piece of concrete bigger than a car, it was a sunrise imprinted on the inside of his eyelids. His body felt heavy, but in a peaceful way. 

For a split second, there was nothing, as if he’d nodded off for a quick moment, and the next, a sharp yank had him snapping back into awareness, stumbling over his own feet. 

“Andrew!” 

Life slammed into him in a burst of sound and color and smell and touch. A warm hand was wrapped around his, that fresh smell of dawn woke him up like a cold splash of water, and the golden light of the sun glowed brightly on the person in front of him. The birds were chirping again, and leaves rustled on a nearby tree. He blinked, disoriented. 

“Maddie?” he asked quietly, bewildered. 

“What, don’t recognize your own sister?” she asked, grinning. She wiggled his hand. “Were you about to fall asleep standing up, doofus?” 

“No!” he cried indignantly, straightening up. “I was dying, thank you very much!” 

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Well, it’s a good thing I stopped you, huh? Only a moron would just stand there and die.” 

It made him realize the tugging was gone. He was breathing freely, and the heaviness had lifted. 

But it seemed too good to be true. “Is this the afterlife?” He looked around. Everything sure looked normal, but how was he supposed to know? “Did—did you die?” 

Maddie scoffed and set down the bag he hadn’t noticed her carrying. “I had a pretty close call,” she admitted. “But I made it.” She seemed to waver for a moment, which was all the warning Andrew got before she had lunged forward. 

Her arms wrapped over his shoulders, and he automatically clutched at her back. They were the same height—and, it occurred to him, technically the same age. 

Instead of sobs, like he expected, she burst out laughing, hysterical with joy. “I knew I wasn’t crazy!” she said, squeezing him. “I knew something was up when you appeared in my bedroom like that!” 

“You remember?” 

“Of course! It bothered me for ages afterwards, but then—when the attack happened, I suddenly remembered what you’d been wearing that night. It was what you had on that day. So obviously something happened.” He felt her press a smile against his neck. “I knew you weren’t dead.” 

Andrew exhaled slowly. Because that was right, wasn’t it? He wasn’t dead. He should be—they were standing on top of his grave!—but he wasn’t. 

His eyes went hot with tears, and he took in a shuddery breath. Once he started crying—shaking with the force of it, overwhelmed and in shock—it seemed like it’d be impossible to stop. Maddie gracelessly lowered them to the ground and held him while he sobbed. 

“It was time travel,” he whimpered eventually. “I was supposed to die today, for me. I don’t think it’s even been an hour since I…” 

She nodded, brushing the sides of their heads together, and tightened her grip, but otherwise didn’t respond. 

It took a few minutes for him to start to feel better. A question slipped out of him before he could really think about it. “What are you doing here, anyway?” 

“Y’know,” Maddie said, leaning back on her hands as he shuffled to sit up on his own. “I have no idea. I woke up earlier, felt really restless, and decided I might as well come say hi.” She nodded at the bag she’d brought. “There’s food in there, if you’re hungry. And a book and a blanket to sit on.” 

He wasn’t hungry, not then, when he was still a tiny bit nauseous from the truth. But the mention of the blanket made him very aware of his dew-wet pants, and the filthy state of the rest of him. Some of the ash and not-yet-dried blood had transferred to Maddie, too. 

Again, he thought with a little private smile.

“You’ve missed a lot,” Maddie said quietly, apologetically, as the sun gradually rose behind them. It warmed Andrew’s shoulders. “Like, a lot, a lot.” 

He nodded. “Yeah. But I… I have time, now.” Pressing a hand to his chest, he added, “It’s gone. The—I mean, nothing’s trying to take me anymore.” 

Maddie nodded, too, looking pleased. “We never did find your body,” she said, casting a glance at the headstone. “Maybe this is why.” Staring into the distance, she inhaled deeply. “I have a time-traveling brother. Cool.” 

“I’m glad my sudden, unexplainable, uncontrollable ability amuses you.” 

“It does, so long as you don’t do it anymore,” she replied, unnecessarily snarky, before standing and offering her hand to help him up. “Now, c’mon, let’s go give Dad a heart attack.”