(Why is that title so me right now)

Hello yes i am sure you are sick of me, but i am here with another pwp (kinda, because they pwp is in chapter 2) because i still have writer's block and cannot deal with real life right now. I think in a way i'm kind of channelling myself into this fic, hence this very non pwp first chap. Ha.. ha?

A comment on one of my fics got me thinking, and while this is probably not what they had in mind, it gave me muse nonetheless. You'd find out what i mean on the next chap, i guess, but i'm pretty sure my tag already gave it away somehow.

So uh, sorry for yet another story and hope you'd enjoy...?

Even after he left the infirmary, ignoring the old doctor's sympathetic glances, Marco still feel suffocated.

The news about Pops' declining health wasn't new - in fact, it's been like this for years now - but it seems that as time goes by there was nothing they can do to improve it. Medicines and treatments could only go so far, and no matter how much they're supposedly make him better, none of them ever do. Every week, the report always seems bleak, the doctor regretful for the temporary relief he can give their captain and it took all of Marco's entire being not to throw tantrum, unable to accept reality like a child would knowing their father is slowly fading away.

But he wanted to, oh so much.

He leaned against the now closed door, wanting to massaged the growing migraine on the top left of his temple, but he could hear footsteps coming and know there will be people here soon. It won't do good for the ship's morale if he goes around all downtrodden like this, so the blonde commander took a deep breath before straightening his back away from the wooden surface. He walked away just in time as 3 crew member pass him by, giving them a quiet greeting when they saluted him.

Once they were far enough, Marco let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair and made his way over to the deck. He needs to go over to Kingdew, to coordinate their next stop in the big port town on the edge of West Blue. There, they could hopefully replenish Pops' medicines and other medical necessities, as the doctor also added as a footnote before he left.

What else is there? He quietly mused, head running through his list of objectives for today. Ah yes, completing the ledger for this month's expenditure, collecting every division's report, overseeing the progress of the restoration on the workshop - that's the last time he's going to allow Fossa and Rakuyo do any unsupervised and unreported experiments ever again - start a report on the ship's supplies, prepare a scouting team for recon on that new Eternal Pose Jiru's division found from their latest exploits, go and check the— Oh wait, did he already make a list on the recon group yesterday?

Marco never get the chance to finish recalling whether or not that list existed when he arrived on the deck and was soon accosted by a jittery crew member that he only vaguely recall was one of the new recruits in Atmos' division, "C-commander Marco! We just got word that a couple of marine ships are spotted northeast from us and is advancing,"

That's barely anything new and nothing to be so concerned about, but then, this is a new recruit. They over exaggerate everything, "Anything else?"

"Yes, Commander! One of the ships seems to have an Admiral on board. Admiral Aokiji, sir,"

Fuck. Okay, maybe not that good.

Still, saying that in front of this obviously panicking man is not a good idea, "Get second and third division's commanders to be on standby. They'll be our first line of defense,"

The man - boy really, since he estimate him to be barely older than Ace - scurried away, shouting his orders. How energetic.

Once crew members and commanders began to take up arms, Marco transformed himself to his Phoenix form and flew up high, reaching the crow's nest where he saw Curiel watching the incoming armada through a long telescope. The helmet wearing man gave him an acknowledging nod, relaying the coordinates through the Mini Denden Mushi in his hand to the people below before turning to Marco, "There's 6 ship all together, 2 of them advancing faster. They're ram ships,"

Marco gave him a nod, "On it," and with that, he left in a blur of blue and yellow.

Ram ships were designed to attack first by ramming it to the hull of the enemy ship, and those are the ones with the least defense as well. As proven the moment he hovers above them, there's nothing stopping him from picking out one marine at a time, throwing them off to the sea to be picked out later by Sea Kings and sinking the entire ship after puncturing through the persistent ship captain. The second ship had put up a bit more of a fight, after seeing the sister ship's fate, but it was rather stress relieving to see the cocky commodore turning pale at the realization that bullets cannot even touch Marco.

Defeating and sinking marine ships were easy, but Aokiji was a different matter entirely. Marco returned to Moby to find him on board and parrying Jozu and Ace's attacks, dodging one of Ace's full powered fire punch with ease and sending a blow to the newly minted Commander's middle as retaliation. One of the Admiral's arms turned into ice, and he was about to deliver another blow to Ace when Marco landed just between them, kicking him away from his fallen comrade.

It was blocked, he had expected no less from Aokiji, but his arrival caused the afro haired Admiral to raise a brow, "Hmm? 3 against one? Hardly fair, is it?"

Behind him, Marco could see Ace dusting himself off and standing up, grunting at his own carelessness, but before he can attack again, Marco halted him by raising an arm in front of him, "It was 6 against 1 to your favour earlier," he told the man, glancing back to the other side of the ship, where he heard Curiel's cannon exploding and found one of the marine ships downed, "Ah, well, at least ship-wise, we're even now,"

Aokiji pursed his lips in displeasure, "My new sun chair was on that one,"

"Won't reimburse you for it,"

"Ah, no need, it was kind of stiff and the tanning table wasn't even installed right. Never trust too eager salesmen,"

"That so? I'll keep that in mind next time i'm out shopping,"

"Uh, hello?!" Ace yelled impatiently, one arm already flaming as he looked bewilderedly between Marco and Aokiji, gaining both men's attention, "We were fighting just now?"

On their opposite side, the afro haired admiral rubbed his head, still flatly watching his own men drown inside of the downed ship, "Eeh, don't feel like it anymore. There's more of you now, and i need to take some of those men back so they can do their report. Or else, Sengoku will make me do it," he curled his lips in disgust, as if the prospect of doing reports of all things was something extremely taxing. Marco guessed there is something marines and pirates alike have in common, "Also, i need to shop for a new sun chair. Don't suppose you'll let me go?"

Ace looked at him as if the man has lost his head, "Are you crazy? You attacked us first and you want us to—"

"Just don't leave anymore mess on your way out," Marco waved him off, already inspecting the damage on Moby's side. There doesn't seem much to the ship, but there are wounded men around and as the doctor has said earlier, they're running quite low on medical supplies. Shit, he'd have to look for a new destination to dock soon and change course. Hopefully Kingdew won't be too preoccupied, "You got your bike or is that in the same ship as your sun chair?"

"Marco, what the fuck—"

"Not to worry, the old girl's durable, i bet she's fine," As he uttered that, the Admiral started to walk away towards the ship's edge, aiming his arms down to made a pathway using his ice before climbing up the rails. He paused briefly, before glancing over back to them, "Say, Phoenix, that kick was rather weak. You not getting enough sleep or something?"

At this point, Marco didn't need to turn to see that Ace is seething, so he puts a hand down on a literally fiery shoulder and lets his own flame flare up to protect him from the heat, "Not everyone can sleep at the drop of hat, Admiral. It's called working, i bet old Sengoku would love for you to know that word,"

The Admiral hummed in bemusement, "True. But then there's also the word 'overworking'," at this, his eyes glint knowingly, "You may want to be careful there. Anything could happen if a man of your position is not alert,"

"Are you seriously threatening us, you—"

"I'll keep that in mind," He gripped Ace's shoulder even tighter, preventing the young commander from advancing, "You might wanna make your exit soon though, don't think my men will leave any of yours left to do your report at this stage,"

"That's what i get for sailing with a bunch of rookies," The Admiral sighed before jumping off, effectively disappearing from their sight. It didn't take long until there's another series of ruckus and the announcement that the marines are retreating, and as the sound of celebration began to pick up, Marco made his way over, his mind running through the damages he saw earlier.

He didn't get very far, when Ace's voice reached him again, "Why'd you stop me? Jozu and i almost had him,"

The migraine on the side of his head began to increase in size. It always does whenever Ace started to sound that indignant, "No, you don't, he was toying with you. Any seconds later he could've actually hurt you,"

"I'm a logia, he can't—"

"And he is too, what's your point?" Ace still looked indignant, but he's silent now, frown deepening in that way they always did whenever he's angry about something but couldn't think of any further argument to make his case. Before he can find one, Marco immediately added, "Go check up on your division and do a head count. You too, Jozu. Need to find Kingdew and change course of our sail,"

With a harsh scoff, Ace stomped away, but at least he seems to be doing what he was told. Jozu has yet to move, however, and when he did, it was to turn to Marco from silently watching the direction where Aokiji had disappeared to, "Is he right?"

Marco paused, and shrugged. He didn't need this right now, and rather disliked Aokiji's observation, "Anyone who didn't sleep at least once every hour is working too hard for him. Between him and Garp, it's a wonder Sengoku hasn't develop his first white hair,"

He left before Jozu can say anything else. He wished he didn't look like he's running away, but Marco knew he didn't fool the other man a single bit.

That night, Marco felt like he had closed his eyes forever, but when he glanced at the time, he knew he had only laid down for 5 minutes tops.

He tried to sleep again, but his body won't cooperate, running thoughts after calculations through his brain non-stop. The ledger had been imbalanced once he was done with it, meaning that either someone's report was incorrect or someone had been untrustworthy, and the infirmary was indeed out of supplies, yet the nearest island he could find was a day away. Right now, there's a couple of men who has only been treated minimally, and the nurses told him they can only hope those men won't develop infection until the can be treated properly.

At least with this attack, the expedition for the new Eternal Pose's location had to be halted for a while, and that had been Pops' direct order. Marco still can't shake off the feeling he had done the list for the recon group, but Jiru told him he hadn't been told or receive anything.

With a sigh, he quickly disentangled himself from the sheet and Ace's arm, carefully so he won't wake the younger - then again, Ace sleeps deeper than the dead sometimes. True enough, his jostling had only made the dark haired youth to turn around in his sleep with a grunt, now facing away from him with his back and Pops' jolly rogers tattoo stark against the white sheet. His earlier disgruntlement about Aokiji was still present when he came in, but it seems minimal at best and only because he didn't get to finish off the Admiral.

Chuckling softly, Marco leaned back to press a kiss to the back of his head before retrieving his shirt from the foot of the bed, and some reports he wanted to double check on. With one last glance to the bed and Ace's figure, he made his way out.

There's hardly anyone out this late at night, exempting the night guards and lookouts. They seemed quite confused to see him wandering about but greeted him nonetheless, some even made a small talk asking if there's a problem they can help with. The sentiment was nice, but Marco waved them off to go back to their post, before making his way over to the treasury. Out of everything not in order right now, the ledger is his topmost priority, considering that there will be another large purchase to the island tomorrow.

He spent hours there, counting bellis and matching up account books after account books, and as the sunrise hits the small window on top of the small window above the room and his lantern died, he finally matched things up. With great relief he found that there hasn't been any mutiny or dishonesty going on under his nose, but it was with some degree of frustration that he berated himself for miscalculating for days on end. He never made that sort of mistakes before, what could've happened if he hadn't caught himself.

Stretching his stiff back, Marco made his way out only to nearly collide with Rakuyo on his way out. The bandanna wearing commander quirked his brow, glancing from him, to the ledger in his hand and to the burnt out lantern in the other, "Have you… been here all night?"

Marco shrugged, thinking that it must be even later than he thought if Rakuyo is already on his way to work, "I made some counting mistake. Need to fix it before we land and buy supplies,"

His fellow commander scoffed, "You, made a mistake? Get real," he grinned, but the smile slowly grew dim, "Hey, you sure you're okay?"

"Peachy," he muttered, "Why?"

The flail-slinging commander looked apprehensive at first, "Heard from Ace you've been to bed late the last couple of days, and seems like you weren't even in bed at all last night. Said he woke up alone this morning,"

A pang of guilt ran across Marco's chest. He and Ace had a habit of spending a couple of minutes in bed in the morning or just before they sleep, just to spend some time together since their daily responsibility hardly gave them time for each other at any other time of the day. But it's true that for the past days he had come in to his room to see Ace already passed out, despite the obvious attempts to stay up to wait for him.

The blonde wiped his hand through his face, sighing, "I'll apologize to him later during breakfast,"

"Breakfast is already over. We didn't see you at all,"

"Lunch then,"

Rakuyo gave him a doubtful stare, but stay quiet as Marco passed by and left the treasury.

With the ledger taken care of, he thought that it's one worry off his mind, until he barely reached his next destination - the navigation room, to see how far they are from their destination - when Fossa approached him, "We're out of wood for repairing the damage from yesterday. A cannonball got through and left a hole up in the observatory,"

Fuck, their next destination could at least guarantee more general items like medical supplies, but the materials for reparations are much more specific, "Is it that urgent to repair it now? We won't be reaching another port for at least 4 days,"

"The roof not so much, but there's a hole on the flooring. We managed to support it up now, but f we leave it any longer, it might cave in to the lower floors and that's where some of the barracks were placed,"

Marco felt more migraine coming his way, "Have that place evacuated first in case it really does cave in, and i'll see what i can do about our route. Worse comes to worst, i'll have to send out a squad to buy the supplies we needed for the wounded while we change course," He hated out of plan circumstances like this, but then, they had been sailing for far longer than usual. Their latest exploits in Grand Line had been a big news, after all, and they can't land on just any ports that they don't have allies in with the marines on high alert for them. Aokiji's attack yesterday had been one of the examples of said alertness.

And as if it wasn't enough, the moment he arrived to the quarterdecks, his own division had a bad news for him, "Seems like there's storm coming our way, Commander. Maybe it is best that we land and lay low on the upcoming island,"

Storm. The roof of the observation is damaged and the water would surely seep in to the broken floorings, "If it's storming, then we need to purchase more wood and materials for the shipwrights to fix the observation deck,"

His right hand man gave him an apologetic look while pointing at the map, "Well, they'd have to find some other way to contain that. We won't have enough time to leave to the port town and arrive before the storm hits,"

The messenger he had to send this new over to Kingdew and Fossa's division and the helmsmen came back with Kingdew and Fossa themselves in tow, frowning at each other and making a beeline to Marco, "Look, we need to get those supplies too, that roof isn't going to last long if there's a storm coming," the cigar smoking commander said the moment he entered the navigation room, his posture and Kingdew's signing that they had been arguing for a while, "Why can't you just bring us over from this island and to the port town? The storm's still days away,"

"Because this island had goddamn coral reefs around it and navigating through that without making your work harder is difficult," the robust blonde commander retorted, before turning to Marco, "He kept insisting we should keep on sailing to the port town for his materials. I can't bring us to two different places that fast, especially when Moby's damaged,"

"We don't have enough space to move the boys on the top barracks. If that roof cave in because of the storm, that's more things to fix than just the roof and the flooring and it'll take more time,"

"Then put a tarp on the roof or something, i've seen you do it before,"

The speed of which Fossa's cigar began to burn was a testament to his temper, "You think it's that easy?! What do you know about keeping up this ship's maintenance?"

"As much as you do how i helm the ship, apparently!"

The entire navigation table and the crew surrounding it jumped as Marco slammed his fist on the top, making quills and ink bottles jump along with other tools and a log pose to almost roll out to the floor, "Enough! You two are acting like kids," he berated, "Fossa, i know we need to fix the roof quickly, but we have wounded men down in the infirmary that needs the medical supplies we're getting from this island," Plus, they need to buy more medicines for Pops because they need to raise his dosage since he's getting worse, but he's not telling them that, not when the atmosphere is this tense, "We'll land on this island and dock for a while, alright? We'll move some of the crew over to the inn until the storm pass and see if we can find anything for a temporary fix,"

Then he turned to Kingdew, noting brief gloating on his features and felt slightly irritated by it. This isn't supposed to be a contest, this is they life and wellbeing of their ship and crew, "Kingdew, you and your men better keep your word to not cause any damage to Moby on your way to dock. The moment the storm pass, you are to bring us out and to the next port town," he glared at the two, mouth pulling into a scowl, "Now for fuck's sake, stop acting like kids and be an adult. You guys are commanders, what kind of example do you think you're making to your men?"

It took a while, but finally, the two commanders nodded, murmuring their agreement and apologies before finally leaving, hopefully to do what they are told and not to bicker some more.

Once they were out of sight, the side of Marco's temple suddenly throbbed and he hunched down, groaning. It's the adrenaline, he told himself, because even if fights and disagreement like that wasn't uncommon in such a big ship, right now, they're at quite the predicament, several of them in fact.

He waved off his right hand man's quiet question about his wellbeing, and trusted them to know what to do next. In the mean time, he needs to tell the doctor that they're nearing their destination and collect the list of items to purchase.

In the midst of managing the situation in the infirmary, Marco forgoes lunch, and didn't remember until he realized he also forgoes dinner.

He came back to his bedroom that night to Ace already asleep again, sitting at his work desk with a full plate next to him. It was obviously meant for Marco, according to the small note on the side from Thatch, scolding him for not coming to eat anything for the day, for working too much and that as a chef, he felt slightly insulted. There's even a footnote there that said he better make sure Ace didn't eat any of it, and judging from the lack of traces of food on the younger's lips, he had been obedient.

Marco carried Ace to the bed, letting him roll over in his sleep after he was laid down, and ate as much as he felt like eating. He barely had half of it before he decided to leave it, and crawl to bed right behind his slumbering lover.

He opened his eyes to see that he barely slept a wink again. The blonde dressed himself up, reach over for his list and reports, and started another sleepless night of working.

The island was an uncharted one on the map, due to how small it is, and only reachable by an Eternal Pose. It was also one of the smaller areas under Whitebeard Pirates' protection, and that at least, ensure some safety for them. Buying supplies for the infirmary was easy, even if there's less items than Marco's comfortable with, and to his relief, they managed to get everything they needed for Pops.

The old captain was asleep by the time he came over to deliver the new concoction, waving off the nurse's offer to deliver it instead. He hadn't checked on his captain in a while, and the sight of Whitebeard slowly opening his eyes in a hazy and bleary way gave the blonde a sense of bittersweet melancholy.

Yet, after he finished listening to Marco's various reports of their current situation and after taking his medicine, instead of giving orders, he frowned and asked in a sombre tone, "Are you alright, my boy?"

Marco paused from his reading of the amount of wounded crew, "Well, obviously. None of the commanders were injured - at least, if you don't count Ace's pride, somewhat - and the crew members got their treatment now—"

"I don't mean about this attack," the older, larger man cuts off, expression turning even more concerned, "I mean you. You look tired, Marco,"

He huffed, looking back down to his report, "I'm fine, Pops. You got other things to worry about—"

"Son, i don't want you to overwork yourself—"

"I'm not, Pops, i'm fine. You have other things to worry about,"

Whitebeard seems like he wanted to argue more, but eventually relents, flicking his wrist in a gesture to tell him to continue with his report. Marco continued, ignoring the glances and concern practically shining from the old man's eyes.

When he finished his reports and was on his way out, the captain calls for him again, "This island is one of the safest in our territory," he rumbled lowly, "Why don't you go and tell everyone to have it easy while we're here? Have some time off, relax, maybe take Ace with you and go explore a little. The village is quite nice to take a stroll in,"

It would've been Whitebeard's more subtle jab to him, if it wasn't for the comment about Ace. Marco opened his mouth, wanting to tell him he still has a lot of work left for their eventual departure and journey to the port and reparations, but kept it to himself and nodded silently before leaving. Pops' words did sound nice, and he needs to make it up to Ace somehow. They hadn't seen much of each other lately, or even seen each other this last 2 days, let alone talk, so maybe he could—

He had just ascended the stairs from the captain's cabin when a crew member found him, and said in a grim tone, "Commander Marco, we have a problem over at our division. Commander Blamenco told me to come get you,"

So much for that idea.

That late night, none of Marco's duties brought him out of his quarters, only to his desk, with a dim lantern accompanying him and Ace's quiet snores.

The storm was brewing outside, coming much faster than their navigator and lookout had anticipated, and he already dreaded the reports tomorrow from Fossa's division about the wreckage up on the observatory. The worry had kept him from sleeping, and calm himself down he promptly write down the recon team for Jiru's expedition, still wondering why he felt like he had written it all down before.

He's already halfway through, still considering the distance between their current location and the area the eternal pose pointed to when he felt arms slithering down his shoulders. Marco jumped, heart leaping to his chest in his shock, and only calming down when he heard Ace's voice, "Oh, sorry, sorry, i thought you heard me,"

It didn't even register to him that the white noise that was Ace's snores was gone until the man himself was behind him, "It's fine. I was too deep in thought, i guess,"

The hand was back on his shoulders, kneading softly. He felt Ace's head on his shoulder, mumbling, "You haven't been sleeping for the last 2 days, Marco. Just leave it for tomorrow,"

The hands were pulling him gently, but the urging to get him back to bed was still there. It was tempting, especially with Ace's heat on his shoulders seeping out some of the tension, but he looked down on his list, to the stack of reports in front of his desk and knew he won't feel like sleeping again, "After i'm done with this one,"

But of course, Ace wouldn't listen to him. The younger man popped up in front of him, eyebrows creased in concern as he cupped the side of his face, "Marco, you look tired. You haven't been eating regularly, haven't been sleeping," his thumb ran down the patch of skin underneath Marco's eye, which made the older squeeze his eye shut and shook his head lightly, "You're starting to have eyebags too. Please just sleep for tonight. I'll help you with whatever it is tomorrow, okay?"

When Marco kept his silence, Ace sighed, turning his attention to the paper he had been scribbling on, "What are you working on, anyway? What's this list for—" he trailed off all of the sudden, squinting his eyes, "Oh hey, this is the same list,"

That caught Marco's attention, "What do you mean, same list?"

Ace looks alarmed, and that already made dread and irritation pool in the blonde's stomach, "Uh, s-same as the…," he bit his lower lips, lowering his eyes to avoid Marco's gaze, "T-the one that i… spilled on a couple of days ago?"

Marco could barely hear his voice's volume raising, "What?"

"I'm sorry! I was waiting for you, but then my narcolepsy hits and i spilled the water in my hand. I cleaned it all up, but that paper was already ruined and it's barely legible so i… i threw it away,"

"You threw—" He had done it! He had done it and the reason why it was gone wasn't because he had only imagined doing it because— The migraine was back in full force, and as Marco shouted, he felt eyes felt dazed, the sort of anger that gets to your head and made it spin, "Did it even occur to you that it might be important?! Why didn't you tell me?! It's important and i've been looking for that!"

"I did try to!" Ace defended, taking a step back with his eyes wide. He looked startled, as if he hadn't been expecting Marco to get this angry, "But you were always gone when i woke up, so i—"

"Then look for me! You have legs, don't you?! You all went out your way to look for me for every menial fucking things, but when it comes to the things i needed, you can't even be bothered to find and tell me?! Am i supposed to just know everything?!"

If possible, Ace looked even more shocked, though some parts of his attitude return with a small frown. Any other time, Marco would've thought it was cute, but right now, he felt headache coming and there was nothing but anger in his mind, "I did, okay? But i can never find you and i have my own duties to do—"

"What the fuck do you think i'm doing then, Ace? Kick back and relax?! And you can't find me?! Everyone in this goddamn place doesn't seem to have a fucking problem to!"

Even with the loud and thundery storm outside, there is no telling that his voice hadn't reached other rooms. But as Marco stood up and kicked his chair back, all rationality, all thoughts of calming down to be more considerate to other people sleeping in the ship or even that Ace looked actually apologetic didn't even cross his mind, "In the span of time i kept worrying about this list, i could've been thinking about other things! Because you know what, when you're me, you don't get to stop thinking!"

He didn't even notice that his shouts has moved away from Ace and the apparently ruined list, nor did he realize the look on Ace's face. In the moment he took to slam his palm on his desk and shouting even more, he didn't realize Thatch and Jozu, the two with their rooms closest to theirs had burst into the room, bleary eyed and confused, "I don't have time to be worried about you unable to agree with someone about how you do your fucking job, i don't have time for stupid mistakes, i don't have time to be worried over you wanting to kick the ass of someone's stronger than you and probably ended up getting hurt because none of you are apparently capable to sit back and fucking think for yourselves!"

He slammed his hand down again, cutting his palm on the edge and making Thatch on the doorway yelp. The cut heals instantly, but his anger has yet to dissipate, "You all kept asking 'Marco, are you okay?' No, i'm not fucking okay! Pops is getting sicker! We're being hunted down by marines harder than usual! Moby's top half is probably going to crash down because of this fucking storm! All of that, and you think i'm fucking okay?! You think i have the time to sleep?! So i'm so sorry Ace, for having some fucking responsibility and choosing to do that instead of being in bed with you because apparently, that's the only place where i'll find out who's been fucking up my work!"

Marco realized how vindictive he sounded by the end, but he barely cared. His throat felt raw because of all of the screaming, his eyes hurt and his head is spinning from how high his blood pressure must've risen during his tirade.

But as it all slowly wore down, he began to notice other things. Like the crowd that was now gathering in front of his door, behind a wide eyed Thatch and Jozu, a collection of commander and crew members alike, and that Ace's posture has turned stiff, with his head bowed down, making it hard to see his face. His shoulders hunched, and they were shaking slightly, just like his balled hands.

Without any warning, Ace suddenly turned on his heels and pushed past the group of men, walking and disappearing in the crowd. Thatch followed after him after an apprehensive glance to Marco, calling after him until his voice faded in the middle of the hall. It left Marco panting in his own quarters, eye wild and heart thumping on his chest, staring uncomprehending at the people in front of him.

Taking a deep breath, he flicked his wrist to their general direction, "Leave me alone,"

No one moved. Not a single muscle.

"I said fucking leave me alone!"

In an instant, his doorway was vacated. Just as they dispersed, he caught sight of Fossa and Kingdew from the back of the crowd, glancing at each other before turning their silent gazes to Marco. The door was closed on their faces, and as it made a clicking sound, he slumped back down to his desk, slamming his chair back in place and burying his head in between his hands. Marco pulled on his hair harshly from both direction, letting out a strangled cry.

He stayed in that position until morning comes, when the storm brewing outside has slowly turned calm once more.

Stress relief in the form of writing fics is probably not on my therapist's list of recommended hobby to distract myself, and yet its working great for my health as a whole. Or maybe it's just the placebo effect on works.

Let's hope it's gonna be one of my fics that's updated next instead of a new story, shall we?

Sorry for rambling. Hope you liked it!