So if you are a follower of OBE I am working on it, about 5.5kish written so far, and it is coming along rather well~ This is because I have been having some issues with my depression again and this helped me power through it this time~
So enjoy it I guess~
Dedicated to InspiringLight and AlucardLovesSteakCakes for being so very helpful in letting me talk things out~ and to Setsu, my darling as always, cause she is always there~
Until Next Time
Marco didn't know why he was here.
Well he did know, but he didn't know why he constantly allowed himself to be swallowed up by what this place meant, what it was.
He knew the crew, his brothers and sisters, were worried about him. Knew that Haruta had taken to wearing more red, knew that Izou took to only wearing kimonos with red or yellow in them, knew Kingdew and Blenheim stood where his chair still is and just looked up at it, one of the few things they had to look up to.
Marco knew that while they had their methods, this was his. He'd visit every time they were near, even the times when they weren't near, he'd feel a need and he'd change course. His siblings stopped asking him why after the fourth trip.
Just staring at the markers, the elaborate beautiful pieces of work that marked the resting place of two loved people now gone, made him consider staying here forever. Nothing felt right after that battle, after that war. Nothing was good, nothing was right, nothing was worth it.
More often than not he'd be speaking to them. He knew it was ridiculous, knew they weren't listening, knew that it was a horrible attempt at making himself feel like it wasn't his fault.
At first he blamed Ace.
If the kid had just left Teach alone, had just listened to him, and stayed with the family, then maybe none of this would have happened. But every time that thought train started he remembered. Remembered who was at fault.
Marshall D. Teach.
The fake D.
It was his fault. He was jealous, petty, arrogant, selfish, and a whole slew of other things Marco didn't feel like thinking about. Teach's greed, his desire for power was what started this whole mess. Him and Thatch finding that damn fruit.
He'd blame the fruit but it wasn't its fault. It was Teach, all Teach.
"Things haven't been the same since you left, Pops."
Marco heard his own voice wavering. It was only a matter of time before he completely broke. Despite this place being his safe haven, his shelter from the world that had given them the worst hand.
Sometimes he felt it was all a dream. That he'd wake up and Thatch would be telling horrible bird jokes, Ace would be falling asleep in food or helping with the latest prank, and pops…Pops would be laughing his unique laugh, happiness pouring from his entire being.
Those were the worst sort of dreams.
He woke up crying so many times, that he gave up trying to sleep. He only slept when he crashed, when he simply couldn't stay up anymore. It wasn't healthy, the nurses had told him loads of times that he needed more sleep, but he didn't want to see those things.
"Ace…"
The younger was so vibrant.
He was like a flame, and the rest of the world were all moths, drawn by his light but burned up by his fire. But a few, a few lucky ones were let in, they weren't burnt like the others were, not even singed. They were accepted by the fire, caressed and loved, and not turned away.
Thatch explained it to him once.
Told him that people were drawn to him because of his charisma. Even though the kid was a little stupid, too proud, and headstrong, people wanted to be near him, wanted his attention. Marco was pulled in like the waves on a beach.
Ace. Thatch. Pops. Three people who meant the world to him. All taken. All stolen from his grasp by the same man. A man who would one day feel the phoenix's wrath.
"I miss you…"
It had been so long. He had seen the sunrise and the sunset since he sat here. Saw the clouds darken then pass overhead without a single thunderous boom.
He should go back to the ship.
Everyone would be worried. Wondering if it was the day he decided to just jump off the cliff and leave his bird trapped inside him as he drowned.
He had tried once.
On the fifth trip.
He had been lucky. Izou was walking up to see him, to ask about going to an inhabited island to restock, and witnessed his attempt. Saved him mere seconds after he hit the water.
Marco wanted to hate him. Wanted so badly to tell him off for taking away his decision. But one look into Izou's eyes, just a single glance, and he knew he was in the wrong. It wasn't Izou's fault, it was Marco's.
He had caused his family so much pain in the past two years.
The clouds had darkened again, only this time water pelted him from above. That's why he couldn't tell. Couldn't decide if it was rain or if it was tears that started to trail down his cheeks.
"Pops…Thatch…Ace…I miss you."
He stayed up there, a few more hours, maybe. When the rain stopped was when he rose from his spot sitting in front of the two graves.
They were slightly messy. The flowers ruffled, Ace's hat had flown onto Pop's grave, and the flag was somewhat separated from the spear.
Marco went about fixing them up. More to keep his mind off of the fact that he had to leave than for any other reason. He hated leaving. It felt too much like Marineford, of leaving his old man's body there as they sailed away, Ace's little brother in critical condition.
Tears cascaded down his face as he fixed the graves, even as he stood to look at them. He smiled, sort of, as he kissed his fingers and touched each marking. He'd be back. Probably a few weeks from now, maybe even a few months, but he would be back.
"Until next time, Pops….Ace…."
So there you go~ short little drabble thing~ a few words under a thousand but it gets across what I want~
Thank you for reading~ feel free to comment, question, or concern at me~ I love getting messages~