i might continue this, i might not. for now, enjoy! sorry the quality isnt much to be desired...
Outsiders
Ace never really… fits in.
That's the first thing you need to know about Portgas D. Ace. It's not like he does it on purpose. People just seem to generally detest him and he's used to it – he knows when to step back and get out of their way and he knows when to pick a fight and he knows how to excuse him from a conversation before people start getting annoyed that he was ever there to begin with. He's a problem child, with no particular direction and nobody to guide him in one. God knows Dandan can't.
That's what drives him to the internet, he supposes. It starts slow. First it's listening, to everything and anything – podcasts, hour-long conspiracies, comedy videos, live music. Then it's reading; it's admiring writers, delving into any and all stories available. Then it's interaction; a shitty blog with a shitty premise and even shittier content, but people follow it and it's validating, in a weird way. Or maybe Ace is just lonely.
But it helps.
Chatrooms are a slippery slope. Ace listens to the government-supplied lectures in school about internet safety and it all goes over his head. Nobody gives out their full name, sure. There are unspoken rules. But 'don't talk to people on the internet' is bullshit, especially for kids like him, because it gets to the point where meatslu and marko are the two best friends Ace has ever had and he's never even met them. Adults are idiots for trying to stop that.
It doesn't get to the point where the internet is Ace's whole life, however, until he meets Sabo.
Ace is fifteen, with a face full of freckles after a long summer. School is back and tougher than other and the assholes seem to have it out for him even more than usual, if that was possible. Ace didn't think it was. He gets in and doesn't bother to greet Dandan, just going straight to his room and to his laptop. The hubbub of the rougher end of suburbia are muffled through the window as Ace punches in his passcode, plugging in his headphones and blaring an 80s classic he doesn't know so loudly that it's nothing more than ear-splitting noise. Hopefully he can drown out how much today sucked.
Luffy has only just woken up – timezones, man – and Marco is about to go to sleep, so there's not much going on online. Ace shoots Marco the usual message, asking if he's going to stream tomorrow, before responding to Luffy's picture of his breakfast with a swift, 'enjoy school, idiot'.
There's a new message in his inbox that he hasn't checked yet, and Ace raises an eyebrow as he reads it.
sab550: Hey, did you write Death to The Commander? I love it
Ace grins a little to himself. 'sab550' has the default profile picture and he's online, and he's apparently a fan, and that's about all that Ace knows about him. But he's still eager to reply, of course.
Firefist: yea that was me! Im glad you like it
It only takes a few seconds for the guy to reply, and meanwhile Ace turns his music down a little, slumping back against his chair.
sab550: Yeah it's really good! Your characterisation is so good and it flows really well
sab550: sorry I just really love it
Laughing a little, Ace types out a nonchalant response and then deletes it. For some reason, he's kind of nervous. He eventually settles on a reply.
firefist: ty! Yeah it was fun to write honestly though I haven't really written anything in the last year, srry abt that. Still its good to know people still read that shit
sab550: hey it's no big deal, I'll just carry on reading through your old stuff!:D
firefist: pffft that's good im glad you enjoy them
And just like that, Ace expects it to be over. Most readers hardly want to be best buddies – reviews are great, but nobody wants to commit that much.
But they carry on messaging.
It's slow at first. Sabo messages him again a few days later, about something inconsequential that Ace quickly forgets – but Ace is feeling alone, Luffy and Marco are both asleep, so he answers and they end up getting onto the topic of music. And wow, does Sabo know his music. Eventually Ace notices that he's not even talking out of obligation anymore; he's just doing it because he enjoys it, and because Sabo is interesting and funny and kind of awesome. And when he texts him again, the next day, Ace texts back again.
Sabo is easy to open up around, easy to talk to, and he's even in the same timezone. Eventually, checking in with him becomes a part of Ace's daily life. They exchange Snapchat URLs and when the snow comes in November, Ace sends the first video he has of it to Sabo. Sabo is always there, always available in his pocket, and they're the same age and they relate about a lot of stuff and Ace finds himself almost developing to a new type of constant in his life; the repetitive, comforting habit of messaging Sabo every morning and way into the night.
But there's still a level of caution there. Ace has never seen Sabo's face, or heard his voice. He has next to no proof that Sabo is even close to who he says he is. That is, he doesn't until Christmas day.
Christmas with Dandan is a dreary affair, with no cheer to speak of. It's kind of enjoyable in the morning, when Dandan gives him a new lock for his bike and tells Ace that there's a microwavable Sunday Dinner in the fridge and acts a little bit like a mother, but it gets kind of lonely when she goes out to the bars to get hammered and Ace stays in the house, watching Marco's stream from last night and occasionally replying to Luffy's relentless, affectionate spam. Sabo is nowhere to be seen and it's unusual to see the little grey 'offline' dot beside his username. Usually, he's on all the time.
Night crawls in. Marco logs off without saying goodnight. Luffy bugs Ace a little about Christmas and how awesome Canada looks in the snow and whether Ace is alright, and it feels nice that somebody cares. Ace doesn't realise that the little dot beside Sabo's name is green until a message pops through.
sab550: can I vc you please
Ace furrows his brow but replies all the same, sure, or you can video call me if you want.
There are a few seconds of nothing, and then the screen goes green and 'sab550 is attempting to video chat with you' flashes to life in bold black letters. Ace hesitates for a moment, straightening up a little in his seat, and then hits accept.
The first impression Ace has of Sabo is blonde hair. The boy is indeed around Ace's age, and his light hair is slightly overgrown and he's sitting against a wall, back pressed up against it. At first, nothing strikes Ace as wrong. Then he registers how red and puffy Sabo's eyes seem, even with the low-quality image. How pale he seems. The last thing he registers is the red handprint, patchy but obvious, on his cheek.
"Sabo?" Ace asks.
Sabo's head snaps up and the corner of his mouth quirks up a little. Ace can see him taking a moment to study his features, taking in the person he's been talking to for so long. "Hey, Ace, I'm… sorry, I just needed somebody to… be here. I guess. You can go if you want to-"
"What happened?" Ace interrupts, curiosity overriding any tact. "Are you okay?"
Sabo sniffs a little. "I… yeah. I guess. I'm okay. Yeah."
"You're not."
Sabo takes a moment to answer and Ace can't help but study every part of him – how he moves and how the camera's shaking a little in an unsteady grip and how he bites his lip and how very, very blue Sabo's eyes are. It's almost difficult to make a connection between the Sabo that Ace knows through messages and the real Sabo, the one in front of him. There's a low crackling noise in the background and Ace thinks he can hear somebody arguing faintly, rooms away.
Slowly, Sabo shakes his head. "I guess I'm not."
"What happened to you?"
"Christmas dinner happened to me." Sabo laughs bitterly and wipes his nose with the back of his hand. "Christmas dinner and me fucking up in front of all of my relatives."
Ace flinches a little. Sabo never swears – at least, he doesn't when he's messaging. "Shit…"
"That about sums it up." Sabo sniffs again. "I mentioned my mother's lawsuit and I wasn't meant to and she had me taken out and- Ace she's not happy and I don't know what to do."
"What do you mean, 'not happy'?"
"I mean she…" Sabo scrubs at his eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm being a baby. I mean she's locked the door and the window and I don't know when she's going to open them, and she yelled for a long time and I'm scared… I guess I'm scared of my dad coming home because it's gonna be hell, I know it is-"
"Sabo, Sabo!"
Sabo stops in his frenzied ranting for a moment, and a moment is long enough.
"Sabo. Try… try to calm down a bit. I promise it's gonna be okay. I promise."
Sabo laughs wetly. "How can you know that?"
"I just can." It's a lame answer but it makes Sabo laugh again so Ace figures that he must be doing something right. "And we're gonna work through this together. How long have you been in there?"
"About ten minutes, give or take." The sleeves of Sabo's sweatshirt are too long for him and obscure most of his hands. He's skinny, lean in stature. "My mother's still downstairs. I don't know when she's gonna let me out."
Ace feels abruptly helpless. "Is there anything I can do to help you?"
Shaking his head, Sabo tips his head back against the wall. "I'll be alright. This happens a lot. I guess I just…needed to hear somebody's voice." He glances to the side for a second. "It is getting late, though. If you want to go-"
"I don't," Ace says quickly. "Dandan's out, she won't be back tonight. I can stay up."
"Dandan?"
"My legal guardian." Ace, maybe childishly, doesn't want to call her an adoptive mother. "Though, not much of a guardian… we're kinda in the same boat."
Sabo wipes his eyes again. "I guess. It's… good to finally talk to you like this."
"Yeah. You look different than I thought."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I mean, I'd expected a crusty old 50-year old dude-"
"Hey!"
"It's true!"
Sabo chokes on a laugh. "Well… you never actually told me your name until we'd been talking for a while. I used to think you were a girl."
"Is that why you flirted so much?" Ace asks, heart pounding a little too fast.
Even through the low-quality image, Ace can see Sabo turn bright red. "I didn't!"
"Sure, sure."
Sabo laughs into his sleeve, and Ace feels warm inside that he was able to cheer him up. "It's just… so weird to see you. Like, you're real. You've got… freckles?"
"Yeah, I guess – I got them from my mum." Ace leans back in his chair. "You've got blue eyes."
"Yeah – though, none of us know where they came from. There's pretty much nobody in my family with blue eyes." Sabo goes back to studying him. "Black hair?"
"I don't know where that came from. Probably my dad." Ace finally decides to bring up the elephant in the room. "There's something on your cheek."
Sabo's face falls and his hand comes up to cup the handprint, as if he doesn't want Ace to see it. "My mother was pretty angry, I guess."
Once again, Ace feels horribly helpless. It's like watching a tragedy – there's nothing you can do to help and it's rude to stare but at the same time, it's hard to look away.
Sabo's shoulders are shaking and he reaches up and wipes his eyes with an unsteady hand. "I'm being a baby," he says again. "Sorry."
"Don't be." Ace wishes he could be there, wishes he could do something. "It's going to be alright. I know it."
"My father's going to be back soon," Sabo whispers. "Ace, I'm scared. I just want to get out."
"I know, I know you do." Ace bites his lip. "But I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
"You… you don't have to. Not if you don't want to." Sabo takes another shuddering breath. "But I've got an idea, for… for when he gets back."
"Anything. Anything I can do, and I'll do it."
Sabo puts down the phone - Ace's viewpoint clatters to the ground and he watches the blonde stand and move out of frame. There are a few moments of distant rustling and thumps, like somebody looking through drawers, and then Sabo comes back into frame with two small, black buds in his hand. He picks the mobile back up and fiddles with something on the screen again, before inserting the black buds into his ears.
"Bluetooth headphones," he explains to Ace. "If - when - I have to talk to him… could you please be there?"
"Of course." Something cold is washing over Ace, quick and painful but he ignores it, forces away the foreboding in his chest. The urge to ask Sabo if it's really going to be that bad.
They talk for a while longer, Ace mostly trying to calm Sabo down a little more. The time on the clock crawls forwards, minute by minute, unbearably slowly. Chills lace over Ace's skin. Sabo is so tense that his shoulders are up somewhere around his ears.
The time comes all too soon.
Sabo goes very very quiet all of a sudden and then puts down the phone, screen-down. Ace's view of the other side goes black. He can faintly hear Sabo's breathing.
"He's coming up the stairs," Sabo whispers.
"I'm here," replies Ace in a level voice. "I'm here."
Soon the footsteps get so light that Ace can hear them. Sabo doesn't speak. The footsteps stop. A pause. Then, the sound of a door opening.
Sabo's breathing hitches, and it starts.
Ace tries not to listen to the yelling. It seems to go on forever. Sabo's father's a voice like nails being scraped over a blackboard, heavily accented and very very loud and he spits every word like it's venom. Sabo doesn't say a word, doesn't make a sound.
"I'm here," Ace whispers, as Sabo's father rants. "I might not mean much to you. I'm just a stranger. But I'm here. You're gonna be alright."
Sabo doesn't say a word but Ace doesn't give up.
"Well? What do you have to say for yourself, boy?!" Sabo's father booms.
"I'm sorry." Sabo's voice is very small.
"You don't have to be," Ace whispers, "They're the ones who should be sorry."
"The ungratefulness! The lack of respect! After everything we do for you-"
Ace keeps his voice low and constant and soothing. "It's gonna be done soon."
"You useless, useless child-!"
"You're not useless, Sabo, I swear you're not-"
"No wonder you're a failure in school - lord above, a failure in everything-"
"If you're a failure than the whole world is; you're the furthest thing from a failure I've ever known-"
It doesn't end for a long time.
And by the end Ace can hear Sabo. He doesn't sound like he's crying but his breaths are quick and shaky and occasionally a little noise makes it out of his throat that he can't quite hold back. Sabo's father finishes with a final flourish, one last stabbing insult.
It hangs on the air, and then the door slams.
His father is gone.
There's no noise for a moment. Sabo doesn't seem to move an inch. Ace hardly dares to breathe. The screen is still black. Ace's head is reeling and he abruptly feels uncomfortable in his own skin.
"Sabo?"
There are footsteps, sudden and close to the phone. Then light floods the screen - the camera spins shakily for a moment and then Sabo's face comes into view, deathly pale. He sits back against the wall, looking hard into Ace's eyes. Neither of them speaks.
Then, very slowly, a smile quirks the corners of Sabo's lips.
"I didn't cry." His voice is small and croaky and Ace is kind of entranced. "Not once. He didn't make me cry."
"Is that a good thing?" asks Ace, a little lost.
"It means…" Sabo can't seem to find words. "Yes. It's definitely a good thing. Thank you. So much. I know I'm just a stranger, I know I had no right to ask you to do this-"
"Shuddup." Ace grins a little. "It was the least I could do, after everything. You're not a stranger to me."
Sabo laughs a little and now he's crying, though they're happy tears - he reaches up with the corner of his sleeve and wipes them away, sniffing, and Ace's heart swells with something he's never felt before.
"We can be outsiders together," Sabo laughs wetly.
"We already are," Ace promises, glancing at the clock. "It's 1AM. Do you mind if I kip?"
"No - of course not! And again, you don't have to do this again if you-"
"Sabo."
"Ace?"
"Shut it. I want to help and I'm going to help as much as I can no matter what you say. Alright?"
Sabo gapes at him for a moment, cheeks flushing, before he's swiping at his eyes again. "Thank you," he chokes out.
"Anytime. G'night, Sabo."
"Goodnight. I'll… talk to you in the morning, right?"
"As soon as I wake up," Ace promises.
"Night, Firefist."
Ace quirks a grin and hits 'end call'.
"Night, Sab."