This is my piece for opbigbang! Thank you to my amazing partner jocos-ity and the lovely lunarshores for being my beta! It's been a long six months, but we're finally to this stage and I'm super excited.
Story Warnings: Violence, Mentioned Death, Explicit Sexual Content
Enjoy!
Marco
"Are you sure? We can send someone else, son."
"I'm sure, Pops. I need to do this," Marco replied, staring straight back into Pops's eyes with firm determination. "I know what could happen to Ace if he is left alone. You know that as well."
There was an uncharacteristically dark look that lurked behind Whitebeard's eyes. Of course he knew what could happen, and he would do anything to prevent it. That's why they needed to go after Ace.
"I know that you don't want to lose another son, especially Ace," Marco continued, smiling fondly, but this gesture was not completely genuine. Danger still lurked, and he could not afford to relax and reminisce over memories of Ace first joining the crew. "I don't think the others could handle losing him either.
"And what about you, son?" Pops asked, raising an eyebrow.
Marco's smile faltered and eventually, it dropped away completely. Apparently, Pops had noticed that his statement left out one particular person: Marco himself. He was foolish for thinking that such a thing could get past their father- his father. They had known each other for a long time, and Marco was his first son, after all.
He opened his mouth, unsure of what to say. "I can't lose him either," he finally responded. He really could not, but he was not quite sure why he had been so hesitant to answer. Something in his heart questioned his own words. Why had he separated himself from the others in his speech? It was strange considering his relationship with Ace, which was probably why Pops noticed.
"I thought so," Whitebeard voiced, though it seemed as if he was not disclosing everything he was thinking, though whatever it was, he was not choosing to disclose it. "Even if you were doing this of your own accord, I doubt I would be able to stop you anyways. Gurarara!"
"And why would you say that, yoi?"
"People of your attitude are unstoppable."
"It's my job to do this."
"That's not what I meant."
Marco tuned out his surroundings, giving himself a moment to think. Attitude? He was acting as he should be: responsible. If Pops was not speaking of this, then what was he speaking of? Something began nagging Marco in the back of his mind, telling him that he was inadequate. If he truly was Pops's son, then how come he could not decipher his cryptic words? Asking once more would be useless because if he knew Pops well enough…
"You wouldn't give me an answer even if I asked again. Would you?"
"You know me in that respect, I see," Whitebeard grinned. Marco glared, much to Whitebeard's amusement. "Leave when you must, my son. But say goodbye to your brothers and sisters first."
Marco nodded in respect to the request. "I will, yoi. I don't want to worry them, especially Izo and Haruta." He turned around to leave the room, but was stopped by Whitebeard's words.
"Just a moment, Marco," Pops said. Marco took his seat once more. "If you encounter Marshall D. Teach, I do not want you to face him. Understand. We will face him together. Understand?"
Marco nodded, noting how formally Pops referred to their former family member. "I understand."
"Good. You may leave now. And do not worry, my son." He paused, expression softening. "You will find your answer soon enough."
"You're leaving?" Haruta had been standing right outside the door, waiting for Marco to finish his conversation with their father.
Marco reached out to ruffle her hair. "I need to get Ace back," he explained. "I need to protect our family."
"Yeah, yeah," Haruta said. "Because you're the responsible one. Right? But who'll do all the paperwork when you're gone?"
Of course Haruta would ask about that at a time like this. "Since I'm leaving so suddenly, paperwork will be split between the remaining division commanders," Marco stated bluntly. Most likely Haruta was trying to get out of work, which was to be expected from her.
"Aw, but-"
"Haruta." One stern call of the name was enough to get the younger pirate to stop. "Alright, alright. I'll stop. Be safe. Okay? Bring Ace back home for us."
He nodded. "Don't worry, yoi." Her concern was only natural since she was close to both Thatch and Ace (they had been quite the prankster trio). "I'll be back soon."
"Just as I expected."
Marco raised an eyebrow at the crossdresser.
"Now, don't give me that look," Izo chided, pointing into his face. "You're quite predictable, I must say."
"Thanks."
"Ever the sarcastic one."
"Why is everyone expecting me to leave?" Other crew members had made similar remarks when he told them of his mission.
Izo shrugged, but Marco figured that he already knew the answer. "True, it would be more predictable if you were to stay and handle your responsibilities, not everyone appreciates the extra paperwork, you know, and by that I mean nobody."
Marco rolled his half-lidded eyes. Complaints, complaints, but they were inevitable.
"But let's just say you're the biggest worrywart in our family, especially about our little flame."
Marco didn't comment about how ridiculous that nickname still was.
"Besides, let's not forget about your… disagreement in the infirmary earlier." Judging by Izo's tone of voice and his glare, he was still mad about the incident. He and Ace had been fighting in front of their brother's dead body after all, which was incredibly disrespectful. Marco could not apologize enough to Thatch, and he wasn't sure how well an apology would go over right now with Izo considering his feelings toward Thatch. Well, he might as well come out with it.
"You're still mad. Aren't you?"
"Very."
Marco sighed. What was he expecting?
"And I'll still be angry until I hear the apology from both of your mouths."
No doubt he was talking about Ace.
Suddenly, Izo began shooing him out of the room. "Wait, Izo! I-"
"Yes, yes. You came to tell me not to worry, hm? Now go and get our little brother, Marco, if you really wish to apologize."
Marco wanted to leave quietly, but such things were not possible on the Moby Dick. News of his departure spread rapidly, leaving a significant number of crew members to see him off. Pops had moved to his usual seat too, but no words were exchanged between them. They had already said all they needed to say.
Some were worried for him as well as Ace, but they had faith that Marco would be able to carry out his mission efficiently. Some gave him sly looks, and he could guess what those were about.
Marco did not know how long this would take, but he would carry it out as soon as possible. And he would start in Paradise.
Ace
Ace drew his dark coat around his muscular body to protect himself from the frigid air of one of the Grand Line's winter islands. He was never much affected by the cold, but nagging words ran through his mind, preventing him from foregoing the winter gear, though gloves and a scarf remained absent from his attire. The only thing that stood out from it was his obnoxious, orange hat that sat upon his head as always. His torso still remained bare under the coat, exposing his proudly inked skin to no one at all.
"I don't care if you're made of fire and that you don't get cold because temperatures don't affect you. Put on a coat, or you'll catch a cold, yoi," he heard in his ears.
"I'm fine, Marco! Calm down," he shot back instinctually. Then, he snapped his head up in realization. Marco was not there with him. If the man had been here, he would have nagged Ace more. If the man had been here, he would have draped the thickest blanket he could find over his shoulders. Marco was far away. Marco was in the New World. Marco was back on the Moby Dick with Pops and everyone else. Everyone else except Thatch.
And Teach as well. Couldn't forget about him. Not at all. He was the whole reason that Ace was away from the ship and the crew. And once again, he could hear Marco's voice yelling at him to stay, pleading with him not to go.
God, he missed Marco.
Ace shook his head, denying the very thought. He didn't know why he missed the man so much. He was supposed to be angry at him. Ace was the one who wanted to leave so badly, especially after everything that happened along with Thatch's death. Facts were facts. He had to do this. Teach killed Thatch, his brother. Teach was a dirty traitor, a backstabber. Furthermore, Teach had changed his name to Blackbeard: a disrespectful and disgusting rip-off of their father's name. How disgusting.
Ace had done what he could to obtain information on the bastard's whereabouts. He had several different trails he could follow (thanks to some of Whitebeard's informants and a few other things he heard along his journey), and he already debunked a few of them. And unfortunately, this lead in Drum was just about ready to run cold. Ace laughed bitterly at the pun.
There were still signs that Teach had been to the winter island though. Even with the Striker, a vessel built for speed, Ace had been too slow to catch him. Drum had already witnessed Teach's destructive power (no doubt obtained from that Devil Fruit) when Ace arrived. He had cursed when he saw the wreckage. Though some time already passed since the attack, the inhabitants of the island were still recovering. Maybe if he were faster he would have been able to prevent any form of the tragedy. Then again, the king of this country was cowardly enough to run away from this country and abandon his people, so his disgusting behavior is what was really at fault here.
Still, Ace couldn't help but feel responsible for everything happening surrounding the traitor. Teach had been a member of his division and one of the members, and sadly, one of his closest members. They often talked over dinner about small things. Ace would listen intently. It was always interesting to hear about his brothers' lives. Teach would smile and laugh, exposing the gaps in his teeth and spraying bits of cherry pie everywhere. One could say it was disgusting, but no one minded aboard the Moby Dick. The two had been friends as well as brothers. Teach showed no signs of malice or betrayal before, but his true nature revealed otherwise. He was a power hungry bastard through and through.
That's why Ace was doing this: going after Teach to capture him. Or kill him (he would prefer the killing part after what he did to Thatch). Pops and all of the crew (especially Marco) tried to hold him back, but they had no reason to. Ace was merely taking responsibility. This was rooted in his division, so it was his problem to deal with. It was his job to see to Teach's punishment- the revenge for his crime- through to the very end. He would not rest until it was over. He had already lost enough.
Why did Whitebeard insist on holding him back, insist on him staying aboard the ship? Did he not want the traitor to be brought to his rightful place? The very idea of it was just absolutely ridiculous! Teach broke the most important rule of Whitebeard's fleet: do not kill another crew member. Do not kill one of your brothers or sisters. Do not kill. Do not kill. By driving that knife into an unsuspecting Thatch's back, Teach committed the most dishonorable sin of a pirate.
When Ace closed his eyes, slowly and without much thought, he could still see the image of the other man's lifeless corpse, lying on one of the flimsy infirmary cots. Thatch's abdomen and back were covered with blood. The knife was still stuck all the way through him when they found him face down on deck. The nurses had taken Thatch in there for emergency medical attention, but there was no point to it. Their actions were meaningless. Thatch was already dead when they found him. The nurses and doctors had tried at hope but only succeeded in making more despair. They had failed in their task.
Speaking of tasks, the crew probably cleaned Thatch's bloodstain off the deck by now: the thing marking Teach's betrayal.
'Stop, Ace,' he told himself. 'Don't think of the morbid things like that.' He opened his grey eyes and looked up at the surprisingly clear sky. From what he heard from the inhabitants of the islands, it was usually always cloudy or snowing in this season (Ace hadn't bothered to ask which one). It still made sense. This was a winter island. A chuckle escaped his lips, dry from the cold. Maybe his fire powers were having an effect on the island, which would have been pretty cool, but it would be nice to see some snow. It was a shame. He could be catching snowflakes on his tongue, or making snowmen and snow angels.
Oh well. His time was up here on Drum, and there would be absolutely no snow where he was headed next. There was not much reason for him to stay on this island any longer. He needed to jump on the next lead before it too ran dry. There was just one last thing he needed to do. It was another reason that he decided to travel to Drum.
Drum Island was along Luffy's path.
Luffy had just started out on his journey, and he would be reaching the Grand Line soon if he had not already. Ace grinned in brotherly pride. He had faith that Luffy could accomplish his goal, his goal of becoming the King of the Pirates. That was no longer Ace's ambition. He had Whitebeard's crew now, and they were family to him. It would still be nice to see Luffy though. Now, he didn't have any concrete proof that Luffy was going to come to this exact island, but there was something he felt that was right. There was something he felt that was instinctual. It never hurt to trust your instincts. Right? But enough of that. He had a message to leave. He also wanted to find some food to eat. That would be nice.
He arrived in one of the villages of the island. Ropel it was called. The place didn't look as destroyed as some of the other parts of Drum he had seen, so he was thankful for that, but the streets still remained relatively empty. He would have to search for someplace to go into if he wanted to find anyone. Maybe he would be able to find a good tavern here. It would be a good place to get some food and information though he was probably more excited for the food than anything else. You can't do anything on an empty stomach after all, especially if you're a D.
He strolled down the street, taking his sweet time as the snow turned to slush under his boots with a crunch noise. There were a few shops here and there. He passed a trinket store and pondered buying something for Luffy. He dismissed the thought. The markets would probably be more interesting at his next stop anyways. He continued down the street, footsteps never quieting.
He wondered if he was leaving an obvious trail of melted snow behind him. Marco had told him that this happened once when Ace was unaware of it. They had been on an island in the New World, one with some rather beautiful winter fauna. Ace's heat exposed the dirt beneath the snow. Ruined the scenery, Marco had said. Ace found it rather useful. He should have used it to clear the path when he visited Shanks on that snowy mountain.
A sudden smell wafted over to him, and he grinned. 'Food.' He followed his nose (his sense of smell could rival a zoan user's if it meant food), leading him further until he reached what appeared to be the tavern he had been looking for (there was a sign above the door that he didn't bother to read). He entered, pushing the door open without hesitation.
The place was pretty empty. There were few other customers besides a couple sitting in the corner and another man sitting at the bar. Despite being indoors, they were all still bundled up from the cold. Ace didn't mind the emptiness. Though it was nice to eat with company, it would be best if less people knew of his presence.
So he sat down and politely placed his order, amused when the man behind the bar's eyes widened at such a large amount of food requested for just him. To pass the time, Ace decided to talk to the man next to him. His lead on Blackbeard may have been finished here, but there was no harm in asking someone again.
He turned slightly, placing his elbow on the bar. "Hello," he greeted. "Nice day outside, isn't it?"
The man set down his drink. "You can say that again" He smiled. "Good to have a sunny day! 'S usually all dreary and dull 'round here."
"I've seen my fair share of rough weather. It gets a lot worse in later islands."
"You a traveler?"
"Yep." Ace held out his hand. "Ace."
"Joshua." Joshua took his hand, responding with a firm shake. "So, what are ya' doin' here on
Drum, Ace? This isn't really a popular tourist destination."
"Looking for someone," Ace replied. He took a sip of the water he was given, as a way to ready for the possible tension before continuing. "I'm looking for a man named T-" he stopped, quickly correcting himself, "Blackbeard. The trail is pretty dry here. Is there anything you might have heard?"
Joshua was quiet. His smile turned into a frown, as he picked up his drink and chugged. The couple in the corner could be heard whispering at their topic. The man from behind the counter walked
"I apologize," Ace said. He started digging into his food in an attempt to break up the tension.
"Er-No. It's fine," Joshua replied, a bit wide eyed from the sight of Ace eating. "It's just that, that man was a monster. Bad memories and all. We didn't stand a chance. And on top of that, the idiot of a king ran away to play pirate. Coward," he spat bitterly.
Joshua wasn't telling Ace anything new. He had heard most of these things before in some of the other villages around the island. It seemed pointless to continue, but Ace decided that it wouldn't hurt to since he found Joshua a nice enough person.
"I knew him. That's why I'm looking for him," Ace explained, casting his eyes downward in a silent apology. "If I had gotten here sooner, maybe I'd have been able to do something about it."
Joshua shook his head. "It's not your fault, man," he said. "What's past is past. We're getting up on our feet again. Besides, things have been pretty good without the king around. He was kind of a dick."
Ace could agree with that. Whoever this king was, he had not only abandoned his people, but he went to "play pirate". This man was besmirching piracy. He had no real ambition or freedom. It was likely that he was acting as a pirate to get people to fear him. Disgusting.
"I haven't really heard anything about that Blackbeard guy, by the way," Joshua continued.
"That's fine. I was about to get going soon anyways."
"Where you headed?"
"Alabasta."
"I see," Joshua nodded. "You should be careful there too. Heard that there's been some fixing for revolution over there."
Ace had almost forgotten about that, but he would not let it hinder his search for the traitor.
"Thanks. And oh," he set down his fork, finished with his last plate. He reached into his bag and pulled out a piece of paper, sliding it over to Joshua.
"What's this?" Joshua asked. He unrolled it, raising any eyebrow. "Strawhat Luffy? Haven't seen him around either, but he must be dangerous if he's got that bounty on him."
Ace shook his head. "He's not bad. Just a little… accidentally destructive sometimes. He won't attack you, so you have nothing to worry about."
"Why are you showing me this?"
"Because I am asking you, if you would please deliver a message to him."
"Excuse me?" Joshua didn't sound offended, but he sounded more surprised, shocked. "Would you really trust me with that message? How do you even know he's going to come 'round here?"
"Just a feeling," Ace grinned.
"Why not?" Joshua shrugged. "Fire away."
Ace mentally snickered at the unintentional pun. He sat up straight. "Tell him that I will wait for him and his crew in Alabasta for two weeks and no longer."
With the raise of an eyebrow, Joshua asked, "Why are you entrusting such a message to me? What makes you think that the guy's even going to come here?"
Pushing his stool away from the bar and stood. "Call it a hunch," he replied mysteriously with a sly grin.
Joshua gulped nervously.
Ace pulled his hat over his eyes and faced the doorway. "Well," he started. "Gotta go!"
And Whitebeard's second division commander sprinted away, listening to the distant shout of, "He didn't pay!" with a grin.
Maybe nothing had really changed with him, despite all he had to worry about now.
Marco
Marco spread his ignited wings out, covering an unsurprisingly large span. This flight was what he lived for. He was a phoenix, and this feeling of freedom was only second to the pride of wearing Whitebeard's mark. The blue cross burned brightly across his avian form, reflecting beautifully off of the seawater rocking precariously below him.
He would have to pace his flights carefully, lest he fall into the water and his journey be for nothing, and that would only be precipitating more senseless deaths that could have been prevented. Marco just couldn't help the constant thoughts pulsing through his mind about what would happen if he didn't make it in time or at all.
"I'm fine, Marco! Calm down."
God, he missed Ace.
Marco flew faster now, so he could reach Ace sooner and speak with him to bring the him back to his senses. Ace's swift departure from the Moby Dick was enough to tell Marco how he felt on the inside, though he had a feeling that he would never admit it.
Marco could only imagine the pain Ace would feel if he or any of the other Whitebeard pirates died since he would be losing another family member. Ace's brother Sabo died years ago, Thatch was gone, and now Teach had abandoned them all as a traitor. Marco wasn't sure if Ace could handle another tragedy in such a short amount of time. The shine in his eyes was so bright, and Marco did not want to see that shine vanish again.
Ace suffered so much, but he was a resilient pirate, as exhibited by his many attempts on their father's life. How could Marco have forgotten that? After all, he had been the one who finally convinced Ace to join them. Suddenly, he noticed his flight pattern had sunk along with the guilt swimming in his gut. He corrected himself by flapping his majestic wings and bringing his form closer to the fluffy clouds high up above him.
Marco inhaled the fresh sea air to give himself energy, which was never as effective as a cup of coffee, like the one that Ace brought him every night, and on missions, he would have members from his division with him, so he would have someone to talk to.
It also helped that he would have been traveling by ship. He would not have had to expend his own energy on flight, and he would have been able to sleep in a bed between islands. He was going it alone this time without a ship, hopping island to island before getting any rest. He had to stay motivated, so he had to keep flying.
"You work too much, Marco!"
Marco's flight came to an abrupt halt. There was no way that Ace had just spoken to him, yet there was truth in those hallucinated words. Marco used to be working 24/7 with few breaks in between with his hands full as second-in-command of a fleet of over 1600. Not only that, but he also had to manage the second division, which lacked a commander before the time of Ace's arrival. Ace changed all of that, his spontaneous personality breaking his hectic routine.
Ace might have known how to comfort Marco and make him relax with his words and gentle touches, but he also knew how to get on his nerves. The damn brat. Thinking back to Ace's disrespectful and rash words gave Marco a headache. He kept telling himself that Ace was not thinking straight at the time because of his explosive and volatile anger, much like his abilities. It must have made him call his own crewmembers, his own family, weak.
They were not weak. The Whitebeard Pirates were one of the strongest crews sailing the New World, and of course they wanted revenge on the traitor that had killed their dear brother. Teach, or Blackbeard as he was now called (a disgusting copy of Whitebeard's name that made Marco scowl by even thinking of it) would pay in due time. Charging in, guns blazing would only bring disaster, which was the last thing any of the Whitebeard crew wanted. So much was at stake for all of them right now. Why was all of this happening?
He already knew the answer to that though: it was undoubtedly Teach's fault.
Marco should have known that something was wrong. Ever since Teach handed him back the Devil Fruit's Guide (which were rare in it of itself), he had been acting rather strangely. Marco had not even noticed that a page was missing, no doubt torn out by the traitor. If only he realized it sooner. If only he recognized the fruit. This was his responsibility.
That's also how Ace felt though, wasn't it?
Ace was mad, and that was likely his reason for leaving, but he had his excuses. Marco could still remember what happened when Ace left the Moby Dick.
They were in the infirmary together, but neither of them spoke. Ace was sitting next to the rickety cot, which usually made noise when its occupant shifted on it. It was occupied with Thatch's body, so the cot remained silent. Ace was whispering something. Marco could not quite tell exactly what, but he could tell that there was grief in that quiet voice. There was grief mixed with anger.
Marco remembered that a few hours before this, Ace had been in shock at seeing Thatch's body. He had been the first out of any of the commanders to see the body, Marco right behind. He saw Ace drop to his knees, covering them in the blood that was spilled across the deck. Ace might have screamed, attracting the other crew members, but Marco's world had gone silent. He was shocked as well, his usually sharp ears tuning out the sounds of cruel reality. His hearing faded back in sooner than he thought, for he began to hear shouts for help and the scrabbling of footsteps. Everyone had been awake by then. Some of the nurses burst out on deck to retrieve Thatch's body, one they had hoped was still alive.
Marco vaguely remembered Pops bursting out onto the deck as well, dropping his bisento in his own shock and barking orders to search the ship. But the traitor was long gone. And they (at least the crew members that were good with observation haki) knew already. Teach's presence was no longer on the ship. Teach had abandoned them and murdered Thatch.
There must have been something that Marco could say right now, anything. He had to say something to comfort Ace, to reassure him. And yet, he did not know who needed more comfort right now. He did not know who the words would be more assuring to: Ace or himself.
He found himself approaching the whispering pirate, laying a hand on his shoulder. Ace was warm, as if he raised his body heat. "Ace…" Marco whispered.
He barely reacted to the touch.
Marco looked down and found the reason as to why Ace raised his body temperature. Ace was holding- clutching- Thatch's limp, lifeless hand. Marco moved his other hand over Ace's so that Ace was in his embrace. He felt Ace tense in his hold, but he brushed it off. He was probably uncomfortable because he was still grieving. Marco knew he preferred not to be coddled, even in times of need. He might not have wanted intimate contact right now. Thatch's body was still cold despite Ace's attempts to give it some warmth, some sign of life. Obviously, his attempts were in vain.
"Ace…" Marco whispered once again, tightening his grip around Ace in a gesture of comfort. "It'll be okay, yoi." They stayed like that for a few seconds, but Marco noticed that Ace was still tense. Maybe there was another reason for this. Maybe it was because-
Before his thought process could finish, Ace stood from his seat, smacking Marco's arms away.
"Ace?"
"Is that all you can say? 'Ace… Ace…'?" he snapped. "What's wrong with you? Thatch is dead, we'll never see him again, and all you're trying to do is comfort me? I'm not a baby, you know."
Marco flinched. Ace spoke this way before when he was not an official member of the crew, but this spiteful speech now was unsettling. Ace's personality completely turned once he realized that he belonged, so Marco had not been expecting Ace to snap at him like that. Today's terrible events was obviously messing with his usual cheery disposition.
"You know very well that's not what I mean," he said, hoping that his words were chosen as carefully as he so thought. "I did not intend to treat you like a child, Ace. We all need some sort of comfort right now. Losing him," Marco's voice almost broke, but he kept his demeanor, "is hard on all of us, especially Pops. And you know how close Izo was with him. Me too."
"So it's about you now?"
A tense silence hung between them.
"I never said that." Marco didn't understand why Ace was being so his words like that. No. He would have to be patient with Ace. They were all going through hardship at the current moment. "I'm just telling you that I- all of us- know what you're going through, yoi. We're all in this together. We need to support each other right now."
"No," Ace denied, firmly shaking his head. "What we need is revenge. What we need is to go after that bastard."
"Think about this rationally, Ace!" Marco commanded, voice escalating in volume. "If he was able to…" he paused, not wanting the word 'kill' to pass through his lips, "do that to Thatch, a commander, than he's been hiding his strength from us this whole time, yoi! We have to stay here for the time being. Facing him would be unwise!"
"Unwise? You're calling me stupid now!"
"I do not know why you keep jumping to these conclusions, yoi."
"I'll do whatever I want to do! And what I want is revenge!"
"You sound so childish right now."
"I told you that I'm not a kid! I'm plenty responsible, and I'll prove it!"
"And how do you plan on doing that, yoi?"
"How do you think? I'm going after the bastard right now."
Marco shook his head. Unbelievable. It's as if the young man had not listened to a word he had said. "Didn't I just tell you why that was a bad idea?" he asked. "You're staying here. No arguments."
Ace's scowl deepened. "He is- was- a member of my division. It's my responsibility. You on the other hand?" He stepped closer to Marco, jabbing his index finger into Marco's tattooed chest. "Just because of what we have- whatever it is- you still don't own me."
"Are you really bringing our relationship into this? That is completely unrelated."
"Is it? Is it really?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You're so stupid!"
Marco breathed in through his nose, trying to stay calm. "You tell me you are not childish, and yet you say things like that! You have not proved yourself at all! Ace, you are not-"
The door slammed open, revealing a furiously glaring Izo. Marco and Ace immediately stopped their argument upon seeing the man's angered expression, his lips pressed together tightly into a thin line. "What do you two think you are doing!" he hissed. "Behaving like a bunch of absolute brutes!" Izo crossed his arms across his chest. "If you two are going to continue this lover's spat then I suggest that you do it in another room."
Regret pulsed through Marco's chest. His eyes briefly ghosted over his brother's dead body. 'Sorry, yoi,' he apologized silently, bowing his head ever so slightly.
A growl left Ace's mouth, bringing Marco's attention back to him. "It's not a lover's spat," he hissed back. "You're wrong. All of you are wrong."
"Still childish," he commented before he could stop himself.
Ace looked as if he was about to attack, and Marco was more than ready for him, but luckily, Izo stopped them, shouting, "Get out! Both of you!" Izo abruptly spun them around, pushing them out of the infirmary hastily. He shut the door, leaving the two to sit in an awkward silence. They avoided eye contact by looking away, yet for some reason, neither of them left. They continued to stand in the hall, stretching out the tension between them.
Marco was not quite sure of what Ace was thinking, but he had his own thoughts to attend to. How could he get Ace to see the danger of leaving? How could he get Ace to stay? There may have been one way, but in a sense, it was risky.
He stepped closer to the younger man and raised an arm. Gently he cupped Ace cheeks, feeling him tense under his touch once again. "We should stop this, yoi. Come to bed," Marco coaxed. I'm sure you'll think more clearly in the morning."
Ace slapped his hand away, acting similar to when they first started the argument. "No," he shot adamantly. "I'm leaving right now." He stalked off down the hall, and Marco did not have the heart to follow after him.
Both of them had been too busy yelling at each other to listen and understand. How would they be able to civilly talk when they finally met again? Would Marco find it in himself to apologize? Still, Ace felt responsible, and Marco would have to apologize for that since it was really his responsibility.
He would not have to feel that way if Marco had recognized the signs. Ace would not have to feel that way if Marco knew that the fruit Thatch found was the Dark-Dark fruit, a fruit that he consciously knew brought misfortune and despair. Ace would not have to feel that way if Marco had just done things correctly as the second-in-command of the entire fleet. Ace should not have to feel that way ever.
There were so many things that could have been prevented, and Marco knew it should have been his job to prevent them. Whitebeard may have been the captain, but he had no time to handle traitors like that man (Marco could not even bring himself to think the name anymore). Even though Marco held more than several responsibilities aboard the ship, none of them were more important than what was happening now. He should have gone first. He should have done his job. He should have been more responsible. He should have…
"You're thinking too much, turkey! Come to bed with me!"
Though Marco would have growled back, 'No. I am not a turkey, and I will not be addressed as such,' he was tired. Hallucinations of Ace's voice were a telltale sign. He would not make it to Ace if he was not able to fly fast and race across the skies of the Grand Line. Exhaustion would only slow his journey. Marco decided that yes, he would stop. He would stop as soon as he could.
He closed his eyes and focused his senses, activating his observation haki. He had a log pose with him, along with some eternal poses and vivre cards, but it was hardly useful in his phoenix form (no arms to use it with and such). Marco's observation haki was especially strong, honed for long flights such as this. It allowed him to sense signs of life over the expansive and lonely ocean. His heightened phoenix senses helped with navigation as well, but they were more useful closer to land.
Finally, he sensed signs of life from the corner of his range. The Phoenix turned immediately, increasing his top speed. The sooner he arrived at the island, the sooner he could rest. The sooner he rested, the sooner he could continue pursuing Ace before anything bad happened, and that was very much in his interest.
Ace
Steam and smoke rose around Ace as the flames from his Striker boiled the seawater below his vibrant skiff. Fire flickered and sparked around him wildly, igniting the night that surrounded him. The image of his light reflected beautifully off of the surprisingly serene ocean. Calm weather was quite a rare sight in the Grand Line. Ace had almost forgotten what it was like, though Paradise was much calmer than the New World. He took the fresh air in with a deep breath. It was routine for him to do this. It was a form of meditation for him. This deep breathing was a relaxing reminder. It was a reminder of his freedom, one that also brought him nostalgia.
When he was a child, he would stand at the edge of a cliff, right where the woods met the waves of the ocean that sloshed up against the land, and he would just breathe, slowly inhaling and exhaling to take in the fresh air. That time didn't even compare to now, being surrounded by the ocean on all sides. That didn't even compare to being on a ship with absolutely no land in sight. That didn't even compare to true freedom.
Memories were flooding back to him now. He remembered when he first set out from Dawn Island, waving to Luffy, who had also been eager to leave himself, though he agreed to stay since he wasn't old enough yet. That day, both he and Ace had been bright-eyed and wide-smiled right up to the moment that they couldn't see each other anymore. Ace continued to wave even as the island vanished. All he had with him was a small boat and minimal supplies (well, minimal considering his appetite).
He remembered that light feeling in his stomach that he felt when he was finally gone, when he was finally free. He was finally free to go anywhere he wanted. He was finally free to sail with no direction (though he did have a compass with him at the time). A joyous laugh had left his lips as he yelled to the heavens, "Look at me, Luffy!" Finally, he had fulfilled the promise between three brothers.
And now? Where had his bright eyes gone? They had been replaced with darkness. Where had that light feeling in his stomach gone? It had been replaced with weight.
'Stop it, Ace! Think about your happiness! Think about your freedom!' Ace felt ridiculous for reprimanding himself, but it's what he needed. He needed to think happy thoughts. 'Think about recruiting your first crew member! Think about getting your first ship!Think about making your own flag!'
These thoughts caused warmth to spread through his body. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards, and suddenly, he was smiling uncontrollably. The warmth paved way for even more wonderful memories: finally accepting to join the Whitebeard Pirates, getting his tattoo across his back in a display of his pride and joy to the world, Pops accepting him for his heritage. And from there, those wonderful memories led to blissful ones: Marco persuading him to join the crew, Marco being there for him when he got his tattoo, Marco holding him and comforting him when he was worried that Pops would reject him. Marco… Marco… Marco…
Ace shook his head, snapping himself out of his thoughts. He hadn't realized it, but the memories caused a blush to break out across his freckled cheeks. He guessed that what he felt for Marco was still as strong as it had been before, even now after all that happened between them.
Though Ace's thoughts made him feel less lonely, they had also made a part of him feel a stinging and suffocating kind of longing. What he had said to Marco caused a rift between them. That's why he hadn't listened to him when he tried to get Ace to stay, despite Ace being inferior in position- not that he would have been able to get Ace to stay anyways. Ace was free, so he would do as he pleased.
He didn't even know why Marco tried so hard in the first place. He didn't even want Ace with him there. Marco never told Ace directly, but Ace knew. He saw what Marco did that one night when he thought Ace wasn't around. Marco, the man he looked up to, the man he felt so strongly towards, didn't even have the guts to admit the truth to him face to face.
Disgusting. Dishonorable.
That's why he had no reason to listen to Marco's request. The request had been Pops's too of course, but Ace needed to do this. When he killed Teach and brought his head back to the Moby Dick, they would see. They would all see. Maybe Marco would have reason enough to tell Ace the truth then. Maybe Pops would finally tell him that he was right.
"You are not right. You are just plain stubborn, yoi."
"Shut up!" Ace cried out, voice echoing over the empty waves. He had stopped generating his hot flame abruptly, halting the progress of his journey to Alabasta. "Stupid, Marco," he muttered. "I am right. You'll see."
Marco of all people had no right to tell him what was right and what was wrong. If the man really thought that he had that right, then he should come clean about what he had done. Better yet- he shouldn't have done it in the first place. It was almost amusing that the first division commander not only partook in such an act, but also lied about it. 'A liar cannot say what is right and what is wrong,' Ace reassured himself. 'I am right. I am right,' he chanted as if he would lose faith in his own belief if he ever stopped. 'I am right.'
He ignited the fire in his feet once again, propelling the Striker forward. He needed to reach Alabasta before morning- well, it would be nice to at least. Too much travel by this personal skiff wore him out since it required the use of his Devil Fruit powers and all. If he got to Alabasta early, then he could get some rest before starting any investigation, though he wasn't sure how long it would take. It was possible that he would be in Alabasta for awhile.
He couldn't help wondering how hospitable the locals would be in Alabasta. There would probably be people welcoming him there and telling him to enjoy his stay, but there would no doubt be shady merchants looking to swindle a foreigner out of their money as well. He would have to take caution. Ace heard another motherly warning in the tone of Marco's voice shoot through his mind. Growling quietly, he shook off the thought, ignoring it. He already knew to be careful around shady salespeople. He didn't need Marco, especially a Marco that was a mere disembodied voice, telling him what to do.
A seagull cawed overhead, bringing Ace back to reality. He hadn't realized how far he had traveled in what seemed like such a short amount of time (maybe he had been thinking too much lately, stuck in his own mind). Birds, a sign of life above the expansive sea, indicated land. He would finally be arriving in Alabasta soon. His flames strengthened and he sped up, eager to reach his destination. Even though he would be there for a while, he was still excited. Alabasta would be where he would see Luffy after all.