"Chip, Chip! Wake up, already!"

Ten-year-old Chip awoke to his brother Dale vigorously shaking his shoulders. He stirred in his bottom bunk bed, rubbing his eyes. "What is it, Dale?"

"You promised we would play pirates first thing in the morning. Last one down the tree is a scallywag!" Dale said, rushing out of their room.

Chip perked, wagging his tail. He sprung out of bed and chased his little brother, calling, "Arg! You better run!" in a pirate voice.

Saturday mornings like this felt like they would never grow stale. Although Dale was three years behind Chip, they still felt close in age, like they were on the same wavelength, connected brains that would never sever. Not only were they brothers, but they were the best of friends. It was Chip and Dale against the world, and to the kids, the world was their massive playground. For now, though, they'd settle with the park.

Dale made it down first, grabbing a leaf and wearing it as a pirate hat. He eagerly grabbed a stick and awaited his brother. The little pirate looked up the tree with a longing buck-toothed smile that gradually wavered. Chip wasn't running after him like he thought. Cocking his head to the side and his tail wagging ceased, he circled the tree with a frown.

"En garde!"

Dale turned around. Suddenly, Chip burst from a patch of weeds wearing a grass eyepatch, lunging his sword at his little brother with a determined smile. The sound of sparing sticks and giggling chipmunks were heard around the park. They continued play-fighting for a while, eventually moving on to making a pirate ship out of newspaper by the pond. Well, Dale made the ship. Chip supervised.

It astounded Chip how his little brother could fashion together a boat out of newspaper without blueprints. His imagination awed Chip sometimes.

"Okay, she's ready to sail," Dale said, wiping sweat from his brow.

Chip's tail stopped wagging. He nervously looked beyond Dale to the pond and back at his brother. "Sail? You mean on the water?"

"Yeah. Are you okay, Chip? You look scared," Dale said.

Chip shook his head with a nervous smile. "Me, scared? Heroes are never scared. Especially of…drowning." He finished with a gulp.

"Then let's go, you scurvy dog," Dale said in his pirate voice, tugging his brother on the boat.

The little brother got behind and pushed the boat to the edge before hopping on, hooping, and arg-ing as they glided across the clear pools. Chip stood frozen, shaking like a tree branch in a windstorm, refusing to look at the water. Suddenly, beneath his feet grew cold, and he looked down to notice that their boat was seeping with water.

"Dale, we have to go back!" he squealed.

"Arg! That's captain Dale to you!" Dale replied with a giggle.

Chip grabbed Dale's fur and shook him. "The boat is starting to sink!"

"Yeah," Dale shrugged, "it's paper."

Chip's eyes widened. "Why are you so calm?"

"Because it's part of the game. Abandon ship!" Dale yelled before leaping off the ship and splashing nearby.

Chip watched Dale, his chest crushing like a soda can under a big foot. He froze in pure fear as the water rose to his stomach. No longer had he control of his little body. The shock had seized him. Dale's head popped from the water with a smile, looking to his side for Chip. Once he noticed he wasn't there, he looked back to the boat in confusion.

"Captain Chip, you're supposed to jump!" he called.

Chip said nothing, his gaze held to the water. Dale watched as the waves overcame the paper boat, and his brother crumpled to the water with closed eyes, almost as if he had fallen asleep standing up. Before Dale could start swimming to his brother, Chip's head sunk under.

Dale gasped. "Chip!"

Dale held his red nose and dropped under the waves, swimming to his brother in a panic. He found his brother floating there lifelessly, encased in bubbles. Dale grabbed him by the arm and hoisted him, which was effortless given how light people are underwater. It was pulling him above the surface that was his issue. Dale groaned as he struggled to keep Chip's head above water. He lifted him over a lily pad and pushed with all his might to the pond's edge, where he lay his brother down with tears in his eyes.

"Chip? Are you dead?" Dale cried, shaking his brother.

Abruptly, Chip awakened, coughing up a bit of water and holding his head.

"Chip!" Dale tackled his brother with a hug, his tail uncontrollably wagging. "I thought you drowned."

"No, I only passed out. But I would have drowned if it weren't for you," Chip said, patting Dale's back.

"Why did you pass out instead of just swimming?" Dale asked as he let go.

Chip frowned, looking away and rubbing the back of his neck. "I-I don't like the water. It's scary. You can't see the bottom and never know what's in there."

"Why didn't you ever tell me this?" Dale asked.

Chip knew the reason deep down. He didn't want his seven-year-old brother to think of him as a scaredy-cat. As the oldest, he wanted to set an example for Dale. This involved never exhibiting his fears and getting too emotional with him. Softly, he could only reply, "I don't know."

Dale studied his brother, his lips pulling into a sympathetic smile. He gently touched Chip's shoulder. "It's okay to be scared of things, Chi—"

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," Chip blurted begrudgingly, turning away with his little arms crossed. Things were getting too touchy and emotional, not to mention he was embarrassed; he had to cut this exchange short.

The brothers sat there in silence for a while. Dale finally sighed.

"I'm afraid of rollercoasters," he said softly.

Chip turned to him, his eyebrows rising from being cut down. "You've never even seen one, goofy."

"Yeah, and you've never swam before," Dale returned with a smile. "You can be afraid of anything with no right or reason."

Chip looked at Dale for a long time. Ultimately, he grinned. "You sure are something, Dale."

Chip woke up in his bed, the morning rays streaking across his face. The second his eyelids fluttered open, the memory evaporated to the back of his mind. Memories like that helped him realize how much he'd grown—as well as Dale. His little brother helped him learn how to swim, although the fear of the dark depths below still freaked Chip out. He was forever grateful for Dale when they were kids. Things were so different then. Dale was different then. His love for fantasy manifested into an obsession that consumed his entire thought process these days. Yet his bravery stayed the same. The fact that Dale went from saving his older brother from drowning to saving multiple animals a day as a Rescue Ranger made Chip so proud of him.

…Maybe he was harsh on him yesterday. He couldn't take back what he had done, though. This punishment was for the best. He'll learn to stop nearly killing himself and his friends. What were Rescue Rangers anyway if they were too busy saving themselves?

After that thought, Chip got dressed and met his friends in the main living space where Dale was just waking up. He was so upset with Chip that he didn't want to sleep in the same room, so he crashed on the couch. Chip figured that was fair; he'd be angry too if he didn't understand.

"Morning, Dale. You want some breakfast?" Chip asked.

Dale didn't turn to face him, his arms crossed in defiance.

Chip released a sad sigh. "Suit yourself, then."

Instead of joining the others at the table, Dale flipped on TV and started surfing channels without a word. Monterrey frowned at this as he served cheesy eggs on Chip's plate.

"At least allow the lad to ride with us today," he begged quietly.

"He's not leaving the park so he can get himself killed, no," Chip rejected in the same tone.

"It's so sad to see him like this. I haven't seen him this disappointed since he found out his TV hero was just an actor," Gadget said, placing a hand on her cheek.

Zipper sat on Gadget's head, looking out to Dale and releasing a dramatic sigh.

"Would you guys stop trying to make me feel guilty?" Chip groaned.

Dale's channel surfing landed him on the morning news. He hated the news. But a picture of a missing animal poster caused him to halt his search for cartoons.

"This morning on the six o'clock news, numbers of pets missing in the Hudson Yards has escalated to a concerningly high number. Fifteen pets have been reported missing in two weeks, leaving very distressed owners nothing to do but hang up missing posters for their animals, hoping they'll return soon."

The Rangers fell silent upon the word "missing," watching the news with worry.

"Golly, did they say the Hudson Yards?" Gadget asked.

"That's one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in the entire city," Monterrey added. "But why are pets only from the Hudson Yards going missing?"

"I'm not sure yet. But this looks like a worthy case to look into. What do you say, fellas?" Chip asked, throwing on his fedora.

"Yay!" Zipper buzzed.

Dale turned back around, sinking into the couch with his arms crossed. He held a determined scowl as he struggled to focus on the TV but couldn't fake his emotions for too long. He wasn't mad; he was sad. His eyes welled with tears as his friends prepared for the day behind him, quickly finishing breakfast, washing dishes, and gathering tools. He'd never missed a case before. It felt so odd to just hang back, not even knowing what kind of danger his brother and his friends would get into. It troubled him.

Suddenly, the cushion beside him moved, and Chip was in his peripheral vision. The oldest went to say something but faltered at the sight of his brother's tears. He looked back to ensure the other Rangers weren't paying attention, then soothingly rubbed Dale's shoulder.

"Don't cry, Dale. This is only temporary," Chip eased.

Dale refused to look at him, his eyes hurting from blinking away the tears. "You've never done a case without me. What if something happens?"

"Nothing's going to happen, I promise. We'll be extra careful just for you," Chip said with a half-smile, nudging Dale's shoulder. "Hey, about we watch one of your favorite fantasy movies when we get home?"

Dale, still unmoving, squinted his eyes. His tail began slightly wagging at hearing this, but he pretended not to notice. Chip noticed, on the other hand, his smile turning into a smirk.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said, wrapping an arm around his little brother and giving him a tiny squeeze before getting up.

"Chip?" Dale asked, halting Chip where he stood. "Please be careful."

Chip tipped his hat to him. "Always."