Chapter 1

RedSnow15

Their personalities change a bit to fit into the plot. THEY DON'T CHANGE A LOT THOUGH! Sorry, but I know for some people they don't want to read fan-fictions where personalities change drastically, I should know. . . I'm one of those people. So I believe that I stuck kinda close to their personalities in the plot.

So I wrote this to kinda get over writing short chapters with fewer than 1,500 words.

Disclaimer: The fact that I'm writing this on a fan-fiction site is disclaimer enough in my opinion.

When he first becomes aware of the gentle swaying of a ship he isn't confused. When the sun warms his face through the filtering of a window he isn't confused. His crew mates must have taken him after the fight with Whitebeard. They must have been the ones to dress his wounds. It all made perfect sense. When he opens his eyes he will surely find himself alone in his room on his ship.

However, something didn't feel right. He can feel something in the back of his head sayng-no, yelling-to him that this isn't his ship. The smell of wood is too strong for the size of his ship. The footsteps above seem to belong to two many people. If only he would open his eyes then he would surelly see that it is, in fact, his ship.

He doesn't want to do that though. His limbs feel like lead, something he wasn't use too. His eye lids feel as though they are made of leade. A dull throbbing is constant in his head. Never has he ever felt like this after a fight.

It only made it worse when he hears the door to what he believes is his room. He wants to shout a whoever it is to go away. He can't if it is just a member of his crew coming to check on him though. What kind of captain would he look life if he yells at one of his mates for checking to make sure he's not dead? Not a good one. He feels the weight of his bed shift when someone sits on it.

"You awake yet?" He definitely hasn't heard that voice before.

He only just cracks his left eye open, but immediately wishes he hadn't. The sun burns his cornea. The quick glance at the man didn't help at all. Slowly he opens his eye again. The man that sits on the bed is well-built. He isn't part of his crew though. He has auburn hair in a pompadour arrangement. His uniform is white blue except for a yellow sash that hangs around his shoulders.

"Who are you?" He croaks, his voice reflecting how he felt. Weak.

"Thatch." He tilts his head to one side as if contemplating something. "Probably should tell Pop's you're awake."

"'Pop's'?"

"Yeah, he isn't really our pops, but everyone just calls him that. Now that I think about it, I might tell Marco too." He laughs a little. "He was worried believe it or not. I sure don't. Izo gave him a hard time about it. Saying he likes you. Although he's as straight as any other man on this ship. Now that I think about it though no one has ever seen him go out with a girl before, much less flirt with one."

His head gives another dull throb while continuing to listen to Thatch's pointless bantering. Marco? Izo? Pops? This is most defiantly not his ship.

"Where's my crew?" His voice sounding stronger than it did before, but not by much.

"Somewhere on the ship. I really don't know myself."

"What are you talking about?" Ace raises his voice and props himself up on his elbows. "Where am I?" He demands.

"I think it's better to show you than tell you. Can you walk?"

"Of course I can walk." He snaps back.

Ace throws the thin, scratchy white sheet off of him. Thatch stands and waits by the door. Ace swung his legs over the end. When he stands his legs shake slightly at first, but they get used to his weight. He raises his hand to his hand and finds his hat missing. Looking around he discovers it laying on a cargo crate in the corner of the small room. The cord dangles off the side. He picks up the orange hat and puts it on top of his head.

When he looks back toward where Thatch was standing he discovers an open door revealing a narrow hallway with wood paneling and floor. He hurries out and finds Thatch walking down the hallway about to turn a corner. Hurriedly, he makes his way to him and follows him through long hallways, up a flight of stairs, and out a door. The sudden sunlight beats down on him and he's glad of his hat's shadow covering his eyes from the assault.

Looking around he discovers that he is on a massive ship in the middle of the ocean. Three large masts are in place on the ship, one in the front, one in the center, and one in the back. Each masts holds two equally ginormous flags. The center mast towers over them. There is a crows nest stationed at the top with a ladder built into the thick mast leading up to it. People mill around barely taking note of their presence. People who did notice them smile and wave at Thatch who, in turn, returns the gestures warmly.

He is too absorbed in his surrounding to notice that Thatch has runs into his back and stumbles a little. His head starts to throb again. When he looks up he sees two men standing in front of them with amused expressions on their faces.

One of the men standing there was taller than him by about a head, while the other one only about an inch or so. The shorter one has black hair pulled up in the back in a geisha style along with a pink kimono. His face is covered in thick white makeup with red lip stick in the shape of a heart. The taller man is bald except for blonde hair sprouting at the top then fanning out. He wears a purple shirt that is undone and knee long pants.

"Izo," He gestures toward the cross-dresser, "Marco." He waves his hand toward the blonde. He turns toward Ace again, "You stay here while I go tell pops."

He then walks away toward a set of stairs that leads to a balcony of sorts overlooking the deck. Ace turns toward the group again and notices the tattoo on Marco's chest. It's a dark blue cross with a crescent moon facing upward. The mark looks familiar, very familiar, but he can't remember where.

"So," Izo breaks the silence, "glad to see you're up. You have been unconscious for about a week." Ace just nods. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine. I heard you were worried about me." He adds toward Marco. Izo smirks, but the elder's expression remained bored.

"I would have been worried for anyone yoi."

"Care to feel me in on the details after the fight?" Ace leans against the railing staring at them expectantly.

"After the fight Whitebeard made to go back to his ship, but your crew came running up. shouting, ready for a fight. We beat them easily and then hauled them back to the ship. They woke up a couple of days before you did. When Pops offered them a place on the crew they refused. Said they were only loyal to you. But they're on the ship. . . Somewhere. . ."

"Where am I?" Izo gave him a look as if asking whether or not he was a moron.

"Did you not listen to the story?" Ace shrugs.

"More or less."

"Your on the Moby Dick yoi." Marco answers calmly.

Moby Dick. The name sounds very familiar. When he tries to put the pieces together it all came crashing together at once. Moby Dick belongs to Whitebeard. His crew was taken aboard the ship. The mark on Marco's chest. His eyes fill with sudden realization.

"So Whitebeard's here?" He asked after a moment. A plan already forming in his brain.

"Yeah, Thatch just left to go tell him you're up." It is Izo who answers him. He feels the blonde's eyes study him. Ace nearly shivers under the gaze.

"Don't get any ideas yoi. We wouldn't want you to get hurt again."

Rage fills him suddenly. Does no one believe that he can kill the "almighty" Whitebeard?! How dare they have the audacity to believe that he would be the one to get hurt. Of course he doesn't plan to come out of this clean, but he will defiantly be better than that old man.

"What is that supposed to mean?" He questions. His face starts to heat up in anger.

"It means we wouldn't want. You to get hurt. Or worse."

"I'm not the one you need to worry about!" He shouts defensively.

"Well we don't need to worry about Whitebeard. He is a lot stronger than you would think yoi."

"It doesn't matter! I'm going to kill him! And then I will kill you too." Both men laugh at him, acting like he is a child. "It's not funny! I'm serious."

"Sure."

"Oi! Stop treating me like a kid." Marco puts a hand on his shoulder calmly. Ace tenses under his touch.

"Compared to us, you are a kid yoi. Stop acting like one and we won't treat you like one. And before you say anything, you are acting like one. Give up on this fantasy you have of taking Whitebeard's head. You can't even harm a man as great as Pops. All you will end up doing in the end is is just hurting yourself yoi."

Marco's words grazed him like a bullet. Opening a wound and letting the bacteria of doubt into him. Yes, Whitebeard is a lot stronger than him. However, if he can just find one of his weaknesses then he has a chance. The chance of that happening though is next to zero. There is still a chance though.

He shakes his head again and walks away from them. He has to get away from them and make a plan. The only place he can think of to get away from them is the room he woke up in. Now if only he can figure out how to get back there. . .

"Hey, Ace! Where you going?" Thatch calls from the top of the balcony having just emerged from a doorway.

Ace just ignores him and walks down the flight of stairs that he came from not ten minutes ago. He remembers that he takes a left and then a right, but other than that his memory is hazy. Every hallway looks familiar. Noting out of the ordinary to differentiate on corridor from another. He nearly groans in frustration."

"Lost yoi?" Came a voice behind him. Ace jumps slightly and turns to face his stalker. Marco leans against a wall leisurely with his arms crossed. He looks at him with slight amusement.

"No. What would give you that idea?" Ace's fist clench slightly, but Marco either doesn't notice or doesn't care.

"You took a left when you were supposed to go right." He states matter-of-factly.

"Well how the hell am I supposed to know that?!" A smirk appears on Marco's face that only makes his anger grow.

"You walked from there, why can't you walk back?"

"Will you just shut-up?!" This time Ace's voice raises.

"Calm down yoi. I'll show you back." He turns and starts walking back down the path that they came from.

"What makes you think I'll follow you?"

Marco doesn't answer, Ace doesn't expect him to. Reluctantly he starts to follow him. Ace watches his every move, waiting for any signs of an attack. He shows none though. Nevertheless he studies his every movement. The ripple of his shirt as he walks. The steady, purposeful strides. His hands relaxed at his side.

This man can't be trusted. No one on this ship can be trusted. Save for his crew. Which he has no idea of the current location. He has to find them. What if they are being held in shackles in the bowels of the ship? Or maybe they are already dead. That though only made fury course through him. Killing Whitebeard is his first step. Although, now that he has Marco, the first division commander, alone, maybe he should kill him first.

He is too caught up in his thoughts again to notice the blonde had stopped. His face hits Marco's shoulder and he stops out of shock.

"You seem to have a habit of running into people." He comments, a smirk caressing his face.

Marco turns and notices Ace hasn't moved. They look at each other so close that Ace can feel the other's breath against him.

"You okay yoi?" Worry seems to creep into his tone. He puts a hand on Ace's shoulder. One of his fingers touching over the collar of his pale yellow shirt. It touches his neck and he jolts back at the electric feeling that the little contact.

"I'm fine." He denies a little too hastily.

He is most certainly not okay. He has been taken on to Whitebeard's ship. The man that he vowed he would kill. Now he is talking to the first mate as if they're equals. It's outrages. He should kill him. He should kill them all. They kidnapped his crew and are now holding them hostage. He doesn't care how nice and friendly they seem. In the end they are all the same. Part of Whitebeard's crew. On top of that they don't even deem him worthy enough to be held in shackles. Do they honestly not see him as a threat? He plans to prove the all wrong. They will die for their mistake.

Marco stares at him a little longer before opening the heavy looking wooden door. He walks inside the room followed by Ace. Marco closes the door behind him leaving the only light in the room to be a small porthole on the far side of the room. Now that he looks around Ace realizes that this isn't the room he woke up in. For one, it is larger by a lot. A second thing is instead of cargo boxes this room has actual furniture.

There is a large bed in the center with dark sheets. There is a dresser pushed against the wall with the door. One of the top drawers is partially open revealing neatly folded shirts. A large comfortable looking armchair with a high back is in the back corner partially covered in shadows. A chest is locked and closed next to a small wooden table with two wooden chairs. The table has books and discarded notes covering it's surface.

"This isn't the room." Ace states simply after a moment. Marco walks over to the table and begins to pick up the books and notes.

"No, it's mine. Take a seat yoi." Marco puts his things on top of the wooden dresser before turning back and moving over to the chest.

Hesitantly, Ace makes his way over to the chair farthest from Marco. the chair creaks slightly as he sits down. He watches Marco bend over and unlock the lock with a key he didn't notice him grab. Marco opens the lid and extracts a wine bottle from it's depths. He sets it down before taking his own seat across from Ace. Marco opens the bottle and holds it out to Ace.

Tentatively he reaches his hand out and takes it from Marco. After taking a drink from it he puts it back down. Marco takes a swig after him from the same bottle.

"Aren't you worried about catching something?" Ace asks after Marco sets the bottle down.

"If I was I would have grabbed two bottles. . . Are you?" He asks after a moment.

"No."

"Good."

Awkward silence fills the room for several moments. The bottle lays untouched in the center of the table. Marco studies Ace. He nearly squirms under the man's scrutinizing gaze.

"So," Ace breaks the silence and Marco is pulled from his thoughts, "why your room?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Well that much was obvious." Marco smirks slightly. "Talk about what?"

"Why do you want to kill Pops? For the same reason everyone else does or it is something different?" Ace sits up a little straighter.

"I want to prove my strength." Marco sighs a little at his answer before taking a sip from the bottle.

"You have a reputation of a "super rookie". Your bounty has risen considerably since you entered the Grand Line. Your flag strikes fear in a lot of pirate crews. I would say your strength has been proven enough." He states these facts in a bored tone as if he expected this answer and rehearsed what he was going to say.

"I have to defeat Whitebeard." Ace has an air of impatience in his tone. Honestly, he should have gone out of the room as soon as he realized it was Marco's.

"You don't have to defeat anybody."

"Yes, I do. I have to defeat Whitebeard."

"Why? Why do you feel the need to defeat him? What are you trying to prove? Your strength? I think it's some other reason. Isn't it?" Marco leans forward, anticipating his answer. However, Ace doesn't wish to explain everything to him. He doesn't want to explain anything to anyone.

"I told you. I want to prove your strength." Marco shakes his head in disbelief. Ace spent so long hiding his feeling. It infuriates him that this man can read him so easily. He takes the bottle and drinks it's contents deeply. After a moment he sets it down and stress at the blonde.

"That may be part of the reason yoi." Marco starts after a minute or so. "However, isn't all of it. You want to prove your strength to someone. Who?"

"Like I would tell you." Ace scoffs at him.

"Is is a rival? A family member? A friend?" Marco stare intensifies the longer he stares.

"I don't have a family." Ace crosses his arm and leans back in the chair.

"Then why won't you let us be your family. Join the crew. Become Pops son. Become out brother." Ace stares at him with disgust on his features.

"No fucking way will I ever join Whitebeard's crew. I have to kill him. I have to prove I'm better than him." Rage drips out of his mouth while he talks. Even the most dense person, like his brother, would see that hates this person.

"And who is 'him' exactly?"

"I'm not telling you."

Marco just nods. He stands up and locks the chest back. He places the small, bronze key back in the top drawer under a few articles of clothing. The stress of the finally hits Ace. He looks out of the window to see the blanket of night covering the sky. Marco lights a small candle on the night stand. The small flame doesn't produce much light, but it will do.

Ace leans wearily against the back of the chair. How can such high ranked pirates be so nice and friendly and accepting. It doesn't make sense. Why do they trust him so much as to let him wander around freely on their ship without anyone watching him when he declared he would take their captain's head? Whitebeard's crew isn't like what their reputation at all.

Or maybe it's just a ploy. They want him to trust them and then he'll join his crew. That way one of them can kill him and he will won't expect it at all. That must be it. Why else would they not use shackles. He bets his crew is tied up in shackles right now. Probably hungry and thirsty. They probably beat them for fun.

How else would his rival act. Whitebeard has to be just as evil and cunning as him. He couldn't beat Whitebeard though. No matter how hard he tried. As soon as he kills him Ace can finally step out from under his shadow. People will remember him as Ace and not that monster's son.

Ace closes his eyes against his thoughts. His muscles suddenly feel weak and sore even though he didn't do anything today. He can feel his thoughts start to drift off. He doesn't want to fall asleep here. Not in Marco's room. As much as he tries to stay awake he can't. The stress and anger finally disperse leaving him feeling exhausted. The last feeling he has is the hard wood against his head. After that it's just dark and peaceful.

So this is my first One Piece Fan-fiction so I would absolutely love feedback. Tell me what I can fix, what you like, what you don't like.

Thank you so much for reading my story. I hope you are enjoying it so far.