"I'm telling ya –Aachu!- I'm fine!"
"…"
"Ya have ta –cough!-believe me! I know I'm not sick!"
"Yeah…right…"
"Look –Aa..atchu!" There was a startled gasp and a few seconds later a loud splash signaling contact with the ocean below.
Seconds passed.
"He's not coming up. Why is he not coming up?"
A (seemingly) delicate lady glared. "Well, maybe it's because he is not fine. What the hell are you waiting for? Go fish him out!"
As demanding as all the ladies on Whitebeard's crew, she resulted to violence; a strong heeled kick to the back sent her companion sailing downwards as well.
"Not sick my ass," Hannah mumbled, patiently waiting for her new patient to be dragged back on board.
When two then the third was never far behind.
Just from standing in the cabin as he was, Marco would have never guessed they were currently sailing through a winter ocean.
It was hot, way too hot even with the window open and breezes frequently refreshing the air.
It was desert like even.
The nurses though didn't seem to be bothered; running back and forth between the three beds, carrying chunks of ice that were melting in their arms and wearing nothing but bikinis.
It was the dream of every sick man.
The exception being of course when said nurses were either your siblings or when you were too dense to notice the opposite gender.
Both cases were true here and Marco judged by the feverish glint on all three faces that they were too far gone to notice anything around them anyway.
He never thought he'd see the day. Now he regretted ever looking forward to it.
"How are they?" He asked quietly stopping one of his scarcely clad sisters as she hurried past him to pick fresh ice out of the sea.
"Could be much better," she replied grimly, opening the door and stepping outside.
The door fell shut behind her just in time, muffling her voice as she cursed vividly and colorfully.
Marco almost smiled as she continued yelling until her voice faded away from distance.
But he wasn't in smiling mood and he wiped sweat away from his face instead, moving closer to the source of said heat just as another nurse exchanged the blankets covering him after she had to throw a bucket of water on the previous ones because they had started smoldering.
"Hey Ace," he greeted, and was severely put out when the younger boy didn't acknowledge him at all; his eyelids didn't even flicker.
Never had he thought he'd have to worry about anything other than the next prank or overprotective fit with them.
Marco really wished this was only a prank as well.
But it wasn't and his heart twisted painfully at the thought.
"Move it, move it." Shoved aside as one of his sisters bent over Ace and searched for any change he swallowed.
A thermometer stuffed into his mouth, an eye peeled open and a hand to the wrist counting heartbeats.
Marco wondered how they knew what temperature was good and which was bad as Ace was made of fire.
Looking at the other two brothers (or rather at the mountains of blankets and blocks of melting ice) in the room he decided not to go and try talking to them; he didn't want to see unresponsive faces (because they weren't meant to be lifeless).
"Here, wash these." Startled out of his gloom, an unknown number of more or less wet (from sweat or water) covers were thrown at him and Marco caught them, a lump in his throat. "We need them again," he was told.
"And visiting hours are over, Marco," Hannah told him as she tried unsuccessfully to force some liquid down Sabo's throat. "You can tell Oyaji we got it under control, but it will take a while."
With both his arms full he used the chance to leave when the door opened for Hana (presence outside announced by much yelling and cussing) who was carrying an ice block almost the size of her body.
"And?" A watery voice asked in the corridor outside and Marco twisted his neck to see anything past his package.
Thatch stood there, a dripping wet (not from sweat or water) tissue in his hands, eyes red and puffy with rivers flowing from his eyes, his hair (alarmingly) not styled as perfectly as usual.
"And?" Echoed the entire hallway filled with pirates, all looking more or less like Thatch.
Marco's finely honed instincts (that were not hampered by his emotions) spotted a chance to upload work on others and he promptly threw all the blankets into the crowd. "We are to wash these."
Surprisingly (or not given the situation) no one complained and the hallway quickly got a little bit more spacious when some of his siblings set to work.
"And?" Asked Thatch again.
Marco smiled. "They'll be fine."
The crowd (it was probably the majority of the crew down here) cheered loudly, not stopping until one of the nurses poked her head out and told them in no uncertain terms to be quiet please or well skin you alive.
Marco had never seen so many of his siblings shut up so fast.
A terrifyingly slow and (dare he say it) boring week full of strange jumpiness and even stranger (impossible) silence later Ace, Sabo, Luffy and Thatch were back.
They promptly announced it too (with food fights, crashes and another incident).
Marco might curse them, might hit them and might find them more irritating than Chicken Jokes on a bad day, but he (naturally) wouldn't trade them for the world.
He loved them too much.
Thanks to wolfsrainrules for giving me the idea.
This is another part of my Mobby Dick's Tales series with, as always, slight AU setting.
Please let me know what you think and comment.
Though this story isn't really fitting for today's date I still wish you all a Merry Christmas. :)