Three hours. Ace, due to his insomnia, which he figured might be the definition of irony. He had exactly three hours of sleep last night and no more, no matter how he tossed and turned. So when the question comes, it's what he blames when he doesn't answer with the usual.
"Haven't you ever wished you had a father?"
Thatch had asked when he explained he never had a father, nor did he need one. He half expected Marco to give him pity or for Thatch to roll his eyes and walk off. But instead they had looked at each other, mentally coming up with the stupid question.
Ace wanted to shout no. He want the tell them to 'fuck off' and show how the very thought of a father made his skin crawl. Ace was angry and hurt, he had fell weird after his morning attack and he was completely exhausted and not up for this. But when he opened his mouth, words just spewed out.
"Of course I wanted a dad!" Teeth clicked when he slammed his mouth shut. He wanted to stop there. To just walk away but of course he couldn't. Damn exhaustion.
"Doesn't everyone grow up without their dad wish they could have a moment with them? But it's kind of hard to hold that stupid wishful thinking when the world around you is so damn ready to tell you what a fucking monster he is. What a fucking mistake it is that you exist because of him." Hands ran through his hair and he just wanted to stop there. But a part of him wanted it out too.
"I use to imagine he was every bit the person they made him out to be." Ace turned to grip the railing. Looking out over the sea but keeping them at the corner of his sight. "I use to imagine him sailing in. It didn't matter he didn't care about me, he just took the island and wrecked it, brought theses people to ruin."
Ace huffed feeling the old anger swell but also something else he pushed down deep. The longing. He turned his back to the sea and dropped to the floor, with his back against the railing and knees drawn up.
"I use to imagine he'd appear one day and was the opposite of everything they said he was. I'd imagine that the people got everything wrong about him and that when he sailed in he took me and just sailed away from that hell hole."
Drawing his knees up tighter, Ace sighed and grew silent. He heard Marco kneel down in front of him, saw his sandal covered foot inches from his boot. "I'm sorry Ace, it was not in our place to pry."
Ace couldn't help but snort. "It's just a stupid child's dream. I learned quickly that nothing comes from those sort of dreams. If you want something then you have to take it. Cause life sure as hell won't give it to you." They grew silent and it stretched on until Thatch quietly excused himself. Saying he needed to get started on preparing dinner.
Just left with Marco, Ace stayed quiet, knowing the other had to leave shortly as well. Something he picked up on in the months spent here was that the first commander kept himself awfully busy. And as predicted, with a sigh, Marco stood to leave. Only he hesitated a moment.
"I understand, you know, the feeling of everything having to be fought for. You're right, most of the times you have to take what you want." He was silent a beat before he turned around. "I hope someday soon you'll take one of the things you want here, Ace. It's being offered freely and it's willing to wait for as long as you need." With that Marco turned and left Ace to himself.
Ace curled up tighter because he knew. He knew that he wanted it. He knew that it was right there for him. And he knew that if he let it, it could be something he always dreamed for.
Maybe if he wasn't so tired he could think of the reasons he still fought against it.