Archive of Our Own ^beta

The way the door opened was all it took for Ace to know something was wrong. 

Zoffy stood in the doorway, frame unnaturally still as though all his energy had gone into opening that door. When Zoffy had died to Birdon, he’d still somehow looked less defeated than he did now. His words were more clipped than usual, even for him: “We lost Taiga.”

Ace’s mouth went very, very dry. “I don’t suppose you mean he jumped into a universe we can’t track him through?”

“I mean we’ve lost him.” A datapad clattered heavily on the desk, playing a single video clip on loop. A  clip of a boy—a familiar, slightly gangly boy, flanked by two friends closer than his own shadow. And as Ace watched, a mutilated, bound figure—Noa’s wings, was that Tregear?— gathered a sickly darkness into himself, and one by one the three boys shattered into particles of light. 

The footage looped. Taiga and his friends disintegrated again. And again.

A fourth loop started before Ace could turn the datapad face-down and fight down the bile rising in his throat. Taiga—his nephew, the baby he’d held on his lap countless times; the boy who couldn’t sit still; the youth who had just started to make friends and been so full of feeling and fire and life—reduced to sparks and stardust in an instant.

“We think…Hikari thinks they aren’t fully gone,” Zoffy offered: a poor comfort, but Ace would take what he could get. “He’s reviewed the footage and says their light might have been forced into another universe; where, we don’t know.”

 When Ace was confident he could open his mouth, he managed: “Was…anyone else..?”

Zoffy shook his head, sitting in the empty office chair and putting a hand to his temple. “The two other boys you saw, Titas of U40 and Fuma of O50, were the only other victims. The other New Generation Ultras have all returned for treatment at the Silver Cross, they seemed banged up but no worse for wear. Ultraman is debriefing them now.” A quiet sound of frustration (or pain) escaped him, and his fingers pressed a little tighter against his forehead.

Ace lowered his voice. “Do Mom and Dad..?” 

“Mother and Father were watching from Garrison headquarters when it happened.” Zoffy’s voice was icy with painstaking control. “Taro was there in person to watch his friend tear his child apart in front of him.” There was a quiet, cold fury under the words—an angry guilt that he hadn’t seen this coming, hadn’t prevented it from happening.

Ace didn’t have words for that (What could he even say?). Eventually he managed: “Is his wife with him?”

“Yes—blessedly they didn’t see it happen. I’ve cleared both their schedules. I was hoping you’d—”

“Of course,” Ace affirmed. “Send me Taro’s work and I’ll make sure it gets done, don’t try and run damage control solo on this.”

Zoffy nodded shortly, then fell into silence. Eventually, he asked, voice brittle in its chill: “Can you make sure Mother doesn’t do anything stupid?”

That wasn’t something Ace ever thought he’d hear. Mom was one of the only reliably sane Garrison members, so the idea of her doing something stupid would have been laughable if not for… “I’ll make sure she doesn’t stay late and that she eats something,” Ace promised quietly. 

Zoffy nodded again, a touch less curtly. “Thank you.”

Ace leaned forward in his seat. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Don’t give me that, big brother. Can I do anything for you?”

He gave a quiet, sharp exhale. “Taking on that extra work is plenty. I’ve contacted the Silver Cross director about clearing Mother’s workload, which will—”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Ace reached over and clasped Zoffy’s arm. “We both know Mom isn’t the only one who’s gonna cope by keeping busy.” Zoffy avoided his gaze, and Ace’s tone grew sharper. “And you’re Taiga’s family too—”

“Don’t.” A quiet, shuddering exhale, dangerously near a sob, escaped Zoffy before he could stop it. Ace could hear his brother forcing his breathing back into a carefully moderated rhythm. When he spoke again his voice could almost have been mistaken for impassive. Uncaring. “We both know we can’t afford to think like that right now. When people are at less of a crisis point, maybe, but right now the entire upper structure of the InterGalactic Defense Force is unable to function because they just watched their grandson die, and the rest of us need to keep it together.”

Light, Ace hated this. Technically Zoffy was right, he knew, but… “Nuh-uh. C’mere.”

“Ace.”

But Ace had already taken vaulted over the desk, cornering his brother and pulling him into a tight embrace. Zoffy went rigid, but Ace tightened his grip. “No. You need this, brother, don’t be a baby.”

“I’m not being—Ace, I just said we can’t afford—“

“You can take ten damn minutes to feel this,” Ace snapped. “Taiga’s gone, the least he deserves is a moment. Get the tears out, you’ll be able to think better after.” Reaching back to memories of Mom, Ace flared his light field in pulses—an old Silver Cross trick for comforting a frightened child.

It was stupid. It was all Ace could think to offer. But Zoffy must have recognized the pattern; he gave a quiet, damp scoff of amusement. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t quite relax either, only lifting one hand to pat Ace’s head. “I…should be the one comforting you, little brother.”

His voice was thick, and Ace didn’t need to see Zoffy’s face to know what he’d see if he looked. Grief, bemusement, guilt…gratitude.

Ace let his own grief wash over him, and if not for the anchor of his brother, it might have swept him up. He tried to respond, but he choked on the words.

That sound snapped Zoffy into action; an immediate, knee-jerk response to his brother’s distress. His reserve evaporated, and he put his arms around Ace, and held him.

And for long moments, it was so very close to silent.

At last Ace released his brother, swiping at his cheeks with a palm. “Better,” he asked wetly.

Zoffy took longer to reply. He shook himself, pulling away from Ace, but Ace felt a tiny squeeze on his shoulder as Zoffy’s hand left him. When he did speak, he didn’t acknowledge Ace’s question; only that brief contact told Ace how much the gesture had meant. “We should focus on what we can do right now,” he said horsely.

Ace exhaled and tried to realign his thoughts. “Got it. I know a family counselor I can have check in with them, and yesterday Mom mentioned having a new batch of nursing undergrads, so the Cross staff can shift things to keep Mom from overworking.”  He frowned. “You’ve already…”

“Set up a rough structure for a search plan? Drafting one now, will need Father’s approval. I…” Zoffy broke off, wiped again at his face, and continued with something nearer his usual cool demeanor. “I’m uncertain how soon he’ll be ready for that…”

“Have him do what I know I’ll be doing after this,” Ace offered; “the orphanage can always use extra hands, and it should help Dad. Maybe Mom too, I’ll check in with her. Taro…” he paused. “Taro I’d maybe wait on, I could see that being painful right now. You said Hikari knows?”

“His Space Science Technology Bureau hasn’t gotten any detailed intel yet; I imagine they’re looking over the footage now. I filled Hikari in on my way here.”

Ace frowned. “How’d he take it?”

Zoffy paused, and Ace realized his brother must not have realized the connection. “What do you mean?”

“Hikari was Tregear’s superior—Taro talked about him a lot—and he seemed pretty messed up when he learned what the guy did to himself. I think he felt responsible, Light knows why. Learning that Tregear just disintegrated three kids…”

Zoffy swore under his breath and got to his feet. “I’ll go check on him. You make sure—“

“I got this. I’ll hold the fort here and send you anything else I think of. Now go.”

Zoffy’s footsteps, always so steady and sure, paused at the threshold of the room. “Is there anything I can do for you, Ace,” he asked, so quietly Ace barely heard him. “I apologize, I should have asked.”

If Ace could have smiled at anything in that moment, it would have been that. “You’re here, and you’re taking care of the family. I’m good. We can talk more soon, but now we need to lock in.”

“You know I don’t know what that means.”