MarcoAce Broship

One Piece

Summary: couldn't think of a title; Marco says something different to Ace to get him to join. He sees something in Ace, and he tells him of his past, of the Phoenix, whose eyes begged his death.

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Marco silently stared at the hunched form, a silent flashback of a similar situation rushing through his head, before he turned away. It would seem it was a lost cause, after all.

"Why…" Marco paused and glanced back. "Why do you guys call him your father anyway?" Ace asked quietly, not quite looking at him.

Marco grinned. "Because he calls us his sons," Marco replied, "To the rest of the world we're outcast, people not worth looking at. It's just a word, but it makes us happy!"

Ace bit his lip and hid his head again, his shoulders shaking a little as he tried to control his emotions. Marco was silent for a moment before he smiled, and then invited himself to sit next to the fire-starter; Ace didn't say anything or move so he relaxed a little.

"I was like you once," Marco started quietly, "Or at least I think I was."

Ace allowed his eyes to peak over his arms and his eyebrow rose in question. Marco chuckled and nodded in agreement; his explanation hadn't been the best. Marco was then silent for a moment, lost in thought.

Marco hummed. "I am a mythical zoan, I ate the Ho-O, Ho-O no Mi*," he informed, and allowed the teal flames to lick his hand for a moment.

Ace's head lifted and he stared with awed eyes. "A phoenix," he whispered.

Marco chuckled again. "Yes," he replied, then was silent for a moment. "Most don't know it, but mythical zoan are few, not because they're hard to find, but because they last a while."

Ace paused and tensed slightly a she felt the seriousness of the situation. "A while?" he questioned carefully.

Marco kept his eyes on his hand as he nodded. "I've seen them go- family, friends, two wives, everyone. Soon, I just learned to- to- prevent it. I made myself unlikable; I pushed everyone and everything away. Those who saw me or my other form marked me; the phoenix who eyes beg for death," Marco murmured.

Flashbacks flew through Marco's head, remembering those horrible years alone. There were so many.

"What happened?" Ace asked gulping. This conversation was making him slightly uncomfortable but he wanted to know.

Marco smiled to himself. And yet so many bright, new one to replace them.

"Oyaji found me," Marco grinned, and glanced at the old man, who was seating in his throne with Izou on the arm.

He looked back at Ace. "Oyaji had just left his captain to start his own crew and journey; he had no one when he heard I was on the island. By then, everyone knew me and was trying to make me join them; I thought Oyaji was the same; boy was I wrong," Marco smiled, reminiscing.

Marco glared at the blonde before him from his perch in a tree. "Piss off," he hissed.

The man, who had introduced himself as Edward Newgate, stared at him with sad eyes. "So it's true," he began quietly.

"Go! Leave!" Marco shouted; he hated those eyes.

Edward's shoulders seemed to droop more. "Your eyes truly do beg for death," he whispered.

Marco flinched. For some reason, this man was different from everyone else who stated the same; he almost felt like crying. He had to make the man leave.

"I have only one dream," Marco shot up, staring at the man who grinned. "I wish for a family."

Marco gasped silently. A family? Edward held his hand out and his grin turned into a smile.

"What do you say brat? Would you like to sail the sea as my first son?" he asked.

Marco was frozen, staring at the blonde's face. That smile. It was one he recognized. A smile, showing understand, and warmth, and undying, familiar love. It was a smile Marco received from his older brothers when they were alive, one he used to give to his children.

Marco snorted. "I told him that I would outlive him many times over, as well as any siblings we picked up," Marco snickered, "And he said so what, when is it ever right for a father to bury his son? I joined him, and we've been traveling ever since."

Ace was almost trembling at the story; he could almost compare himself to Marco, but he was supposed to be alone. He wasn't meant to have family, love; it just wasn't right.

Ace tried to give Marco an uncaring look. "That's deep and all, but why are you telling me this," Ace questioned, trying to push the other away mentally.

Marco smiled and gestured to their right. "Look at them," he murmured, and Ace complied.

The crew was on deck, partying as they celebrated their 'father's' seventieth birthday. They were being mushy in Ace's pov, and yet he couldn't help but compare them to himself and Luffy.

Marco nodded, like everything was right in the world. "I almost missed out on this," he whispered. "After I gave myself Oyaji's mark, and it caught on, I saw a family on our little ship, and I swore I'd never let anyone miss out on this chance."

Ace stared longer and choked; he hid his head and said in a rush: "MyfatherisGoldRoger!" he jumbled.

He hunched in himself, expecting punishment; he deserved it, he had too. A verbal lashing, a beating, maybe even killed, but was surprised when an arm went around his shoulders.

Ace looked up and Marco was silent a moment. "Any man can be a father, but it takes a special man to be a dad," he looked at Ace, "Oyaji taught me that, and so much more; now I try to tell everyone else."

Ace stared. What that true? Could he decide who his father truly was?

"Marco!"

Ace jumped while Marco calmly turned to the red-haired chef. "What?" he asked lazily.

Thatch grinned. "You coming or what?" he asked, "Oyaji only turned seventy once!"

Marco snorted and stood, "Only turns sixty-nine once too," he said, "and seventy-one."

"You know what I mean!" Thatch pouted.

Marco chuckled and turned back to Ace; he held his hand out. "What do you say? You coming?" he asked.

Ace stared in quiet awe, before slowly he took the outstretched hand. "Y-Yeah," he said.

Thatch grinned at him. "Come on, everyone takes turns telling Oyaji about their year today and you two are left," he informed.

"Right," Marco nodded, putting his arm around Ace's shoulders.

"Our year?" Ace asked curiously. "Me?"

"Oyaji tells us how his year went and then we reciprocate," Marco explained, leading him.

"And I'm sure Oyaji wouldn't mind learning more about you," Thatch said.

"Oi, Oyaji!" Marco called.

Whitebeard looked up from his sake and smiled. "My sons," he greeted, and then looked at Ace. "Hello Ace."

Ace looked at him for what seemed like forever before he hesitantly replied. "Hey… Oyaji."

Whitebeard smiled. Finally.

End.

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*Ho-O – phoenix

I believe the idea that mythical zoan are possibly immortal, if against their will. Marco being a phoenix, wouldn't surprise me at all.