Sometimes, the world is a nightmare.
A cruel and terrible place, where children are judged for sins not their own and loyality only matters when it is time to count the number of dead. Where good men will do horrible deeds because it is their duty. Where innocence means nothing and the only justice is power.
Sometimes waking up is the best thing, when it was all just a bad dream.
His hands had been trembling, he shouldn't have been here. But they had still been clutching his pipe in desperation as he had jumped from the deck onto the broken remains of the Moby Dick. He can not remember who has brought him here. But it had hardly mattered, when all he had seen was the break in the towering walls.
And behind it, the execution platform.
He had stumbled then, legs unsteady and still weak and the bandages had been itching under his coat, but he had forced himself onward regardlessly.
He has to get to the Plaza before it is too late, he has to!
Already he had been breathing hard as he had weaved between the fighting fractions of Marines and Pirates, avoiding them as much as he could. He had not come here to win a war (no matter how much he had wanted to), he had come to save his brother. So he had bitten his lip and had sliped unnoticed around the blond tyrant king of Dressrosa, had ignored Kuma and the sorrow he had felt for his former comrade.
He did not have enough strenght left to destroy the Pacifistas anyway.
It had chafed at him, but he had skirted around the edges of the Plaza, where his brothers stubborn (loyal, dying men still trying) nakama had been raging against Marine Captains and Vice-Admirals.
The cap on his head had shaded his eyes and still he had shivered with every wave of battle heat that had blown over his arms, left bare by a simple Marine uniform. His fists too, had been bare and vulnerable like they hadn't been since he had been a child full of dreams. He had first learned of Haki, back then, and the cruelness of this world he lived in.
This cruel, corrupted world that is trying to take his brothers from him.
His eyes had found the platform where his brother's hunched form had been chained down and a flicker of hatred licks at his heart, like the first spark of a terrible inferno. His dear, dear brother who had just wanted to be free. Jaded, but still naive in his own way.
His eyes had narrowed in determination, even as his injuries had protested. No matter, he can rest after he died.
A commotion before the platform had drawn his attention then (his and the whole Plazas, really) when a bridge had cut itself from the ground and risen up towards where the executioners had been standing (he recognizes Inazumas abilities, even if he hadn't met...wouldn't meet the freed revolutionaries until it was all over).
Sweat had made his blonde hair stick to his neck, but his insides had felt frozen when he saw just who had been storming up the bridge.
His heart must have been hammering in his chest but he couldn't tell while fear had been a deafening rush in his ears.
Foolish, foolish baby brother!
Up there had been enemies he could not have won against, Luffy had been far to weak to go up against the damned fleet-admiral! Should have been far too weak, but his breath had rushed out of him when Garp fell, from a punch that should not have been enough to beat him.
Shitty, foolish Gramps.
But he had been moving again, even if his knees had been shaking from exhaustion and fear and injuries not given time to heal. Still, he had still been moving. Because after all, he had always been just as stubborn as his brothers.
His pipe had creaked from the tightness of his grip when bright, burning and living fire had erupted and his lips had twitched.
Foolish brothers.
Nearly absent-mindedly he had whacked a few Marines and had nudged some Pirates out of his way.
Luffy is alive. Ace was free.
But the desperation had still been churning in his gut.
Wrily he had thought he propably wouldn't find peace until he had both of his idiot brothers in his arms.
And then Ace's fire had not been the only thing burning and Luffy had fallen. He could see it.
Luffy's will had always been the strongest of them. Ace had been the powerful one. But Sabo is the smart brother, the one who thought when he fought, who understands tactics and he could see it.
Ace had been overwhelmed and the imprisonment had left its marks on him. But it had been Luffy who had stormed the impenetrable Impel Down and had broken out again, only to walk straight into the great war of this age. The war where he should not have lasted even a moment, never mind succeeding.
It had been Luffy who had proven more dangerous than previously thought, who had been the first since Roger to inspire ally and enemy and bystander alike. The son of the Revolutionary, who cares nothing for the order of the world.
Ace had been the stronger one, the more feared, Whitebeard's son and Roger's blood, but Luffy had been the unknown variable.
Luffy, who had falllen.
And Sabo had seen Sakazukis plan, maybe even before the man himself.
But unlike the Admiral, he had known his brothers. Had known Ace.
And in that moment he had known, there could only be one outcome.
He had imagined he could feel the warmth of Ace's back through his coat, even as the edges of his broken pipe had dug into the leather of his gloves. His Haki had been as weakened as he himself and the magma-coated fist had broken his enforced pipe. Smashed into it just at easily as it had went right into his ribs.
His lips had twitched into a full smile, even as a thin trail of blood had splattered to the ground. It had been enough, he was here, he had been in time. His brothers were alive and free.
Luffy screamed in anguish. Ace was silent.
Huh? No, this was not right. Luffy hasn't been hurt. Ace should never have been silenced.
It couldn't be, it cannot... his brothers are saved, hisbrothers should have been saved!
Sabo opens his eyes and stares blindly ahead. All he sees is the deep dark wood of the ceiling.
Luffy is scarred. Ace will forever be silent.
And he is forever uncertain if he could have made a difference, had he been there. He doesn't care, because he should have been there regardless.
Sometimes reality is more cruel than the nightmare.
Sometimes, waking up is the worst thing.