Denial and Acceptance

No.

NO.

Ace was not dead. He was not lying in a pool of his own blood with a hole through his chest. This was just another one of his pranks. One of the million that he always seemed to have stored up his sleeve. Ironically speaking of course, since the boy didn't seem to own a single shirt. Even in winter islands he went shirtless! If he closed his eyes, or moved slightly to the right, Marco could block the gruesome sight. The sight that made his stomach churn. The sight that made harsh tears burn his eyes and cheeks as they trickled down his face.

A tear fell.

He could pretend he did not just hear the fire user thank them for loving him, as If loving him had been something impossible. If anything, hating him was simply not possible, even if you tried. He had that type of character, that type of grin, that just drew you in and before you knew it, you found yourself in the big heart that belonged to one Portagas. D. Ace. He could pretend that Ace's body was still whole, that the fire user's pride and joy, his tattoo, was still in one piece and unmarred against his back. He could pretend that Ace's back and chest weren't punctured with Akainu's magma fist.

Another tear fell.

He could pretend they were still sailing. That Thatch was still alive. That Blackbeard had not betrayed them. That Ace hadn't gone off after him. That their father hadn't sacrificed himself in order to save his sons. In order to save them. To save him.

Another two fell.

His shoulders shook with repressed sobs. His brain wondered. He hadn't been strong enough. He couldn't save the two of the people that mattered most in his life. He wondered, would Whitebeard have survived if Marco had tried to help him instead of hung back like he was ordered to? Would they have escaped with fallen comrades, but with a father still leading them? Or was Blackbeard too powerful even for their joined powers?

The tears dripped of his chin.

Would Ace have survived if Marco had stopped Akainu with his flames? Where would they be now? Would they be on an ally's ship? Would everyone have been tended to before they made a party and rejoiced their victory? He wondered if their bounties would have risen, if their fame would spread even more if they had won.. if they still had their father, their brothers, their allies..

A sob escaped him.

Then he ran.

The commanders had taken refuge on Shanks' ship after one of the crew-members had ushered them there. While the others had been ushered to the infirmary in order to be treated, Marco opted to stay on deck and watch as the red-head ended the battle and got back on his ship before ordering his crew to sail away. Marco stayed in the crow's nest, silently watching as the battle-ground got farther away with every passing second. As the source of his overwhelming grief became nothing but a dot in the horizon of a blood-red sky. A sky still fogged with bombs, fumes, smoke, and worst of all, the smell of death and blood. The phoenix didn't even flinch as the continuous sound of explosives filled the air long after the island had disappeared from view. Long after the chaotic movements on the ship had faded and everyone was assisting with the injured.

Blue flames licked at Marco's skin, illuminating the dark night. He was not aware of how much time had passed before someone landed lightly beside him. The flash of red-hair easily alerted him of who was next to him. The single-handed captain leaned on the railing next to him, shoulder just brushing Marco's own. The phoenix acknowledged the other captain with nothing but a nod as he continued to stare at a fixed point in the sky.

"Beating yourself up won't help. You're first mate, the crew-members will look up to you now." Shanks said clearly.
"I know. But that doesn't mean I can't grieve." Marco said with a small bite.
"Grieving is different from self-hating." Shanks responded easily.
"I wonder if I could have saved them.." Marco whispered quietly, brokenly.
"It doesn't do to dwell on the past Marco. It's hard, but you've got to move on. Talk about it, get it out of your system, and don't forget to live." Shanks said as his only arm clapped the phoenix on his back.

He frowned when Marco almost buckled underneath the small amount of force.

"Should I get you a doctor? I thought you could heal." The red-head said with worryingly.
"I did heal, but Kizaru's lasers are still sore for some reason." Marco murmured.
"You need to sleep kid, give your body and mind time to recover a little at least." Shanks said, concern colouring his tone.
"Kid? I'm older than you." Marco said with a small grin.
"You look like a kid in need of help right now." Shanks offered. "Come with me, I'll take you to the guest room. No one's there, the other commanders are all in the infirmary."
"Are they okay?" Marco's voice had a tone of shame in it, easily betraying the concern about his previously forgotten brothers.
"Mostly scrapes, cuts and bruises. Some had deep cuts or burns, but most are fine. They just need to sleep them off." Shanks informed him. "I can take you there if you want."
"Please."
"Sure thing. Come on."

The sight of his sleeping comrades was somewhat comforting. He heard the rumbling snores of Jozu, the quiet sighs of Haruta, Vista's mumbles, Izo's whimpers... Despite the horrible day, in sleep they looked peaceful, relaxed, and Marco was glad. A small tired smile twisted his features, and he was suddenly aware of the fatigue that had settled in his bones. His step faltered and he stumbled, but Shanks' arm helped to keep him upright. Marco mumbled a quick thank you, and comfortable silence settled between the two of them until Shanks stopped in front of a closed door and eased it open. Marco wasn't aware of removing the bloodied jacket from his shoulders, nor was he aware of pulling back the covers and literally collapsing on the soft bed. He wasn't aware of Shanks as he pushed the covers on top of him and turned off the lamp before leaving the room. The blue eyes had already slipped close and Marco had fallen in a deep slumber.

When his eyes fluttered open again, he felt rested, but immensely dirty. He was relaxed on an unfamiliar bed, in an equally strange room. He stayed still for a few moments, savouring the feeling of complete relaxation as he stared up at the ceiling.

But he knew he had to get up. His comrades awaited him.

A groan of satisfaction escaped Marco as he stood under the hot water that helped to wash away the dirt of the war. It had only happened yesterday, but it seemed like it had been weeks, even if the wounds were still raw, still bleeding freely. After fixing the room as best as he could, Marco headed to the crow's nest once again. Thankfully, it was empty and the phoenix found himself staring off into the horizon as his mind wandered elsewhere.

A light tap on his shoulder brought him back to the present. His head snapped to the side immediately, and a look of concern twisted his features as he saw Haruta next to him. The commander was pale and panting for air, causing Marco to scold himself for not noticing his crew-mate beforehand. Beads of sweat shone on the pallid skin and bandages were visible under the light cotton shirt he wore until their hosts washed their clothes. Despite being the least injured of all the commanders, excluding Marco of course, the war had still taken its toll on him, and Haruta was currently stretching his limit.

"Sit down before you pass out." Marco pointed out as sat down crossed legged in the somewhat cramped place.
"I'm fine, just a bit tired." Haruta murmured.
"I can see you are so fine." Marco replied with smooth sarcasm as he placed Haruta's legs on top of his own when the shorter lad winced after trying to stuff them underneath him.
"Marco?"
"Shut up, you weren't comfortable." The commander murmured.
"How are you doing?" Haruta asked. After seeing Marco's raised eyebrows he added another word. "Emotionally."
"A wreck." Marco whispered quietly.
"Keeping it all inside won't help you know.." Haruta murmured.
"You all have your own grief as well." Marco responded.
"We are grieving for the same people, so why shouldn't we grief together?" The retort came easy to someone who hung with Ace all the time. Who used to hang with Ace all the time..
"I just.. Why did he fall for it.." A sob escaped Marco.

"He had been in Impel Down for months Marco, his pride couldn't be hurt more. He sought to get revenge on Tatch and instead he got captured. He has a protective nature over those who are lucky enough to gain a spot on his heart. Something which is a great quality in a person, but it can also be their fatal flaw, as it was in this case.."

Haruta trailed off for a few seconds. A sob broke out of his throat. Tears cascaded down his cheeks. But he cleared his throat and continued on. He needed to be strong. If not for him, for his brother.

"Ace always protected those he loved. He never could bear the idea of them being insulted if he was with them. It was obvious that he was going to turn back, nothing was going to stop him, not even his brother. Not even us. I highly doubt he would have listened to our father. Despite sounding bad when saying this, he chose his death. It wasn't our fault. We fought like we had never done before. We fought like it was our last battle. In some ways, it felt like it. It was the last battle in which we had a chance to get him alive. He chose to go out protecting his brother, the one he loved. And for me, I think that is how he dreamed of moving on."

Marco stared at him with a slightly shocked look in his wide eyes.

"I suppose you're right.."
"Of course I'm right." The light smile that pulled at Haruta's lips was all it took to send the phoenix into chuckles, then loud laughter.
"You got that off Ace didn't you? When?"
"That is a story that I shall tell to all the others, come on let's go!"

If the red-hair pirates saw it strange to see the two commanders sprinting to the infirmary, they didn't comment. If they found it weird that loud laughter was heard from the infirmary every now and then, they didn't comment either. Nor did they judge when the doctor walked in the room occupied by the whitebeards only to see them all scattered around in different beds. They didn't remark on the fact that Haruta was curled up with Izo, or that Marco's arm was thrown over Vista as they slept next to each other. Nobody said a word on the tear tracks that were visible on their cheeks and on their pillows. Nobody said anything as they righted the slumbering commanders and threw blankets over them before leaving the room.

When Marco came to, he was surprised to feel the warm body next to him. He was no stranger to bedding with someone else, after-all, it wouldn't be the first time that Ace woke up at random times during the night and collapsed next to the phoenix. However, this was the first time that he was in the same bed as a man larger than himself. He allowed himself to remain laying on his back, quietly staring at the ceiling as he got his bearings. His mind was wandering in different paths when someone lay a hand on his shoulder. He startled badly, practically vibrating from top to toe for a second until he noticed that it was Vista. The other commander was gazing at him with something akin to worry in his eyes, and Marco tried to crack a smile in order to reassure his friend, however, the swordsman didn't buy it.

"Marco, you don't need to be strong all the time."

That was what broke the dam.

"I never imagined them dying Vista. Why couldn't we.. Why couldn't I protect them?! Why couldn't they come to the ship with us? Maybe now we would have been celebrating.. not mourning! Why weren't we strong enough?!"

The last few words echoed in the spacious room, and Marco's body shook as his tears finally spilled. Vista quickly gathered the commander in his arms, letting the blond sob on his shoulder. It shocked the larger man when Marco curled himself inside Vista, trying to make himself smaller. If anything, Marco always showed his pride, never showed weakness. To see this side of the phoenix, it was a surprise. A sob echoed in the infirmary. A few commanders opened their eyes, looked over, then promptly turned their backs and fell (or pretended to fall) asleep again. Vista couldn't help but smile faintly at the small gesture for privacy. Marco practically vibrated on his lap, and Vista couldn't do anything except murmur soothing words and rub the first mate's back. It was a while until Marco finally calmed down and drifted off again in Vista's arms.

As he noticed the lax muscles and the even breathing, the large man softly eased the phoenix in a laying position on his bed. He wasn't very surprised when he spotted dark shadows under Marco's eyes. Everyone had trouble sleeping, but Marco had been the worst hit. He was the closest to both Whitebeard and Ace. With a small sigh, the swordsman pushed the covers onto the first commander and stood up.

"He's asleep." He said, not to anyone in particular.
"He's wrecked." Someone responded.
"He let it out. He'll be fine, like we will, in time." Jozu said, still leaning down as not to disturb the still sleeping Haruta.

The little pixie was clearly dead-tired, and hadn't even stirred while all of that was happening. Vista stayed quiet for a while, just staring at the broken first mate as he slept on, deep breaths making his chest rise and fall gently. It didn't take long for everyone to silently file out until only Vista and Jozu were left. Their grim expressions were mirroring the atmosphere of the room, and silence reigned between them until a doctor made his way in and immediately strode over to the sleeping phoenix. His practised hands flew over his unconscious form, but when he made to pull the covers off, Vista found it in himself to stir the both of them out in order to give their brother some privacy.

The commanders breathed in the salty air, relieved to finally be free of the confinements of the infirmary. Shanks' eyes skimmed over the seemingly big crowd as they took in the deck of the ship on which they were staying on. He let them have a few minutes to themselves before speaking, his voice carrying out so that it was heard from everybody.

"We're nearing an island in the New World. It isn't inhabited by anyone, and not even marines go there, so it should be safe until we do the burials and pay our respects." The red-head said.
"…Where are the bodies?" Izo spoke up.
"They are still down below." Shanks responded.
"We should incriminate them. We... we should scatter their remains at sea, show that they were, and always will be, free souls." Vista declared clearly.

The other commanders didn't say anything, but their nods showed their approval of what their brother was suggesting. The red pirates didn't say anything, but only watched as their captain took control of the situation.

"We should wait until Marco and Haruta are here as well." Izo said.
"We'll arrive at the island tomorrow hopefully, then we can do the head stones and everything." Benn said with a small, sympathetic smile.
"Yeah sure.. Are the others behind us?" Izo asked.
"Yeah, they should arrive only minutes or hours after us." Shanks said, his hands unconsciously brushing against his saber.
"Thank You Shanks," Vista said, lowering his head in a show of respect.
"Even pirates have relationships between them kid, I am only honouring that fact." The red-head responded before smiling softly and striding off to the kitchen.

It didn't take long for Marco to wake, however, it took him a while to actually be aware of his surroundings. He wasn't alone, his haki confirmed that . His lids seemed to be heavier than usual to open and a groan rumbled in the phoenix's throat as he finally slid them open. The light assaulted his sensitive irises, but they were quickly dimmed down as whoever was next to him saw the discomfort on his face. Marco could feel the texture of a bandage wrapped around his head, but couldn't find it in himself to complain as he opened his eye fully and noticed that he was tucked in one of the infirmary beds with an IV line in his inner elbow. When he finally focused on the room, he saw Izo sitting next to him, silently staring as he waited for the first commander to come completely to his senses. The cross-dressing man was sagged on the chair, and Marco could see the small rim of red around his eyes.

"Izo.. How are you holding up?"
"How am I holding up? I'm not the one in an infirmary bed!" He said with a forced laugh.
"You're in an infirmary chair." Marco retorted.

"Not the same." Izo bit back with a strangled sort of voice. "It's been 3 days already.. They're gone, they're not coming back. I can't hope this is just a stupid dream I will wake up from. I really won't be pissed at Ace again because he stole my make-up, or hid my clothes.. I won't be able to go talk to Pops if I have a problem.. I just.. Everything will change now.. Many will leave us. No one will ever be the same again!" Izo's words were nothing but a whisper easily carried away by the wind.

"Don't think about how many will leave us. They weren't good allies if they will leave us now, when we really need them. And no, Ace and Pops won't be coming back, but that doesn't mean you can't speak to them. You'll always find them in your time of need." Marco consoled as best as he could.

Izo just nodded before sitting up and stretching.

"I'm going to go grab a doctor," He muttered before fleeing the room.

Marco let a groan escape his mouth as he leaned back on the surprisingly soft pillows while throwing one hand on his eyes in a subconscious manoeuvre. The click clack of slightly heeled shoes alerted him of the doctor's presence and the phoenix immediately sat a bit straighter in his bed. The doctor was a middle-aged man with gentle eyes and nimble fingers. He could feel the feather light touches as the medic smoothly removed the needle from the inside of his elbow and checked his vital signs. It was a routine Marco was well used to, and he followed all the instructions without any fuss. It didn't take long for everything to be finished, and Marco practically leaped to the door before morphing into his phoenix form and taking off. The fresh air was welcoming against his fiery feathers, and he found himself doing a couple of turns around the ship, stretching out before landing deftly on the deck, where the other commanders were waiting.

"Marco, what are your thoughts?" Vista asked.
"I would rather share them when the whole crew is intact. I'll tell you after the burials." Marco stated clearly.
"How much longer now?" Izo piped up.
"We'll be there by tomorrow morning." Shanks said with a small smile as he gazed at the blonde of the group.
"Thank you." Marco nodded to the red-head with a small smile of his own.

The rest of the day was spent mostly helping out the red-hair pirates with their chores. Small talk was made between the commanders during the day, and it passed relatively fast. When night fell, Marco gazed up at the star-speckled blackness, mentally asking for help from his father and brother that were now residing in heaven. A small smile flitted across his features, twisting the tips of his lips before he went inside and gratefully fell asleep under the warm blankets.

Everyone was dreading the next day. The gloom in the air was hard not to feel, and the solemnity was present in everyone's posture. 7 ships docked in the deserted, yet still beautiful island. The trees that rose on one side of the island formed a small forest, but not one of the grieving pirates stepped a single foot in its direction. The bodies were brought to the beach, where the commanders burned them to ashes and scattered their remains across the sea. No one gave a speech. There wasn't any need. The gentle breeze blew away the smell of burnt flesh and the ashes, scattering them where the two pirates' heart had always found its joy. The head-stones had been made by someone on another ship, and all the Whitebeards had found the time to thank him at least once as they were dug in the soil and decorated with the pirates' belonging. The two silent rows stared silently at the graves, not giving any notice to Marco and Shanks, who stood talking in hushed tones in front of the burial sites. When everyone finished paying their respects and left, Marco turned towards the remaining Whitebeard pirates who had stayed behind. There were fewer people than usual, much less, but despite the low number, Marco found himself giving them a small smile of appreciation.

"As you all know, things will change now, and not for the better. Our numbers have already decreased drastically, and I fear that they will continue to deteriorate until we win back our fame. I am glad to see you guys have not abandoned us in these dark times, and I hope we can find the light again with time. But for now, most of all, we need a ship, and supplies, so let's go!" Marco finished with a light note when he saw a few of them crying. It did the trick, as laughs escaped some of them.

"Let's go!" They yelled in unison before running off. Only Vista stayed behind with Marco.

"Will we really be okay Marco?"
"Yeah. With time, we will. They would have want us to be." The first commander replied.

Edward Newgate, A.K.A. Whitebeard, and Fire fist Ace were gone, but certainly not forgotten from everyone who knew them. After all, as Marco had heard before ;

People only die when no one remains loyal to them.

-Finite.

SURPRISE! I AM NOT DEAD!

Hi guys! I missed you a lot ;-; It's been a while since I published a story, but school got me so damn busy I barely have time for anything! I have loads of ideas, but time is a bit of a nuisance! As you can tell, I recently re-watched Marine-ford and this was born! I tried to aim at being powerful and evoke a little bit of emotions from you, and I hope I succeeded, even if only partially =3
So, pretty please leave me your thoughts in the little review box below? I love you guys!
PS - Keep tuned cause I have one piece stories coming up soon!

-Chrisii