Blood on his hands.
That is the first thing Luffy remembers when he wakes, beyond the indefinable, bone deep ache that has seized his entire body. It's all overwhelmingly physical; the faltering, sickly beat of his heart; his heavy limbs, weighed down by layer after layer of loss and failure.
Sticky, drying blood that adhered to his skin like glue. A familiar sensation given new meaning as his brother burns and dies.
Because he is not strong enough.
The indifferent drone of machinery is a steady reminder that he is alive, if only at the cost of Ace's own. Luffy gazes at the ceiling without blinking, curls his bandaged hands into fists (it cannot hide the phantom blood he will never be able to wash away), and screams.
A/N - I actually wrote this at 4am yesterday, before reading 582. When I saw the page with Luffy (loudly, violently) remembering Ace's death and staring down at his hands, I cheered a little, because my Luffy characterization is apparently not as far off as I'd imagined, and this is my very first contribution to fandom.
I think I might write a whole series of One Piece drabbles, mostly because lots of little!Ace and Luffy is coming up. I'm dying to see if the way Luffy wins Ace over is anything like how it went down in my head.
