*Guiltily shifts foot* Soooo, it WAS supposed to be a 2 parter, but then it got… long. And the ending is basically a resolution so, yeah. I swear the next chap is the last one, ok?

Enjoy?


The twinkling look of wonder in a child's eyes truly is something else.

Ace wondered just how it is that he could feel pity seeing that, but it was the only thing he could muster when Marco suddenly stopped on his tracks, eyes wide and lips parted as he gaze upon the blue sky. The rain had stopped sometime last night, and as if taking back its reign above the sky in full vengeance, the sun shone down brightly and cheerfully, enveloping the entire deck with its shine.

With staggering steps - even though he has no injuries, Marco's legs were extremely weak, and he didn't want to think about the implication - the boy slowly let go of his hand, walking as if in a trance to the front of the ship. Several times, he almost tripped over the hem of Ace's shirt, worn in absence of any children clothing on board, and he actually stumbled down before Ace could get to him, but instead of minding the pain it must've caused him, he kept looking upwards.

"Marco!" Ace called in panic, rushing over to the boy's side to help him get up and check him for any injury. He had a little scrape on his knee, one that immediately disappear with the appearance of blue flame. The commander sighed in relief, and was about to tell Marco to be careful when he saw the young boy raising one hand, pointing at the large blue expanse above them. He let out a small sound, wordless and yet full of amazement.

"It's the sky, my boy," a deep rumble sounded from behind him and suddenly, there's a much larger hand than Ace's placed on Marco's other shoulder and back, "Beautiful, isn't it? So blue and calming,"

"S-sky," the child repeated, turning first to Whitebeard looking for confirmation, before he turned to Ace still with wide eyes, awestruck, "Ace, sky!"

When Ace couldn't return the same amount of enthusiasm, his excitement dimmed. But how could he? He just learned that Marco never saw the sky, let alone know its name. Him, a bird zoan, whose nature longs to soar in the open air above them. The Marco he knows had always enjoyed flying as much as he enjoys sailing, telling him once that he loved the freedom it gave him and the feeling of wind underneath his wings.

He always chalked it up all this time for Marco's Phoenix's instinct, but perhaps it ran deeper than he thought.

"Ace," the call for his name, made him turn to Whitebeard, who looked at him with solemn eyes, as if he knows what he was thinking. He flicked his eyes to Marco, still looking expectantly at Ace with his brows furrowed and lips downturned.

With a shallow inhale, Ace pursed his lips and tightly formed a smile, "Yeah, it's the sky,"

Marco was still looking at him with uncertainty, until Whitebeard tapped on his shoulder and gained his attention, "Do you want to look at them closer?" he asked kindly, offering his other hand. His offer was taken with little hesitation, and with ease, Marco was hoisted to Whitebeard's shoulder, "There you go, son, just right— oh, careful now, you'll fall like that. Ah, there you go,"

Watching from the side, it didn't escape Ace's notice the way Whitebeard approached and treat this younger Marco was with familiarity. He was told once that the blonde was the first person to join the crew years ago, but from what the captain told him yesterday, it would seem that it was less him joining and more that he was saved by Whitebeard and stayed ever since. Was it like this too, nearly 30 years ago?

Is that why when Marco looked away, Whitebeard looked so melancholic? The way he spoke of Marco's childhood yesterday was full of pain and regret, does it hurt seeing him like this the second time around, to see the past in flesh in front of him again?

"S-s-sun…?"

"That's right, that is the sun. It wasn't there yesterday because of the rain,"

"Don't l-like rain,"

"Ah, yes, you never did like them, did you, my boy?"

"No. Rain…Rain, rain go away, c-come— come ag-again…,come again 'nother d-day,"

The captain looked mildly confused, though his gaze held the fondness and pride of a parent, "What a nice song, Marco. Where did you learn that?"

Marco glanced down to Ace with an unsure gaze. Whitebeard followed his line of sight, and suddenly Ace felt embarrassed and under scrutiny, his face steadily growing hot, "He can't sleep last night, because of the storm," he explained, hands wringing behind his back, "It's the first thing that came to my mind. My brother used to sing it back when we were kids whenever it rained,"

Whitebeard let out a laugh, sounding pleased and amused, "Well, i'll say the song works quite well, doesn't it? The rain did go away,"

On his shoulder, Marco suddenly stood up, holding on to Pops' ear and collar to do so, before pointing skyward. Ace tilted his head up, trying to find what else he was pointing to when Whitebeard beat him to the punch, "Ah, birds. With the weather calming down, they'll start flying again,"

"Bird," Marco parroted with the same amazed tone.

The group of avians he was staring at flew past their ship, chirping and gliding past Moby's tall mast. The white mailman hat give them away as News Coos, and like always, one of them dove low, tossing an entire bundle of rolled up newspapers on top of the deck, which was picked up by one of the nearest crew member and brought inside. The bird gave them a sharp chirp before flying off again to join the flock, slowly disappearing from sight.

In a blink of eye, Marco's arms formed blue fiery wings, much smaller and leaner than how they would become in his adulthood and before anyone can say anything, he started flapping them, obviously copying the News Coos.

He leapt off from Whitebeard's shoulder, the motion far less graceful than how his adult counterpart would, yet instead of gaining momentum, he suddenly plummeted down.

"Marco!"

Without thinking, Ace ran and jumped, snatching the quickly falling body mid air and rolling his body so that he fell first on his back. He felt his breath knocked out of him at the impact, his head spinning from the suddenness of his own action and all around, he could hear shocked gasp and calls for his and Marco's name. He ignored the sounds and his own pain, frantically looking down to his own chest and felt relief washing over him when Marco seemed unharmed.

Physically, at least. The boy looked like he's in a state of shock.

Until his face scrunched up, looking entirely upset and probably close to crying.

"Hey…,"

Marco reached out and wrapped his arms around Ace's neck, burying his face on the crook of his shoulder. The commander could feel trembling little hands pulling on the hair on his nape, causing a hard tug inside his chest. He's scared, that much is obvious, so wordlessly, Ace patted the boy's back gently, shushing him, "It's okay, i got you now,"

"C-can't fly…," he heard muttered to his shoulder, "Can't fly,"

"Flying takes a while to master, my boy," Whitebeard's voice came from somewhere behind them, when the man reached down and helped Ace to stand up with one hand, "It took you— It takes months of practice, but eventually, you'll be able to do it. It's your power, after all,"

Instead of answering in any way, Marco kept holding on to him, tugging on to his hair tightly.

"Want... want to fly,"


Marco was still upset come breakfast, so in order to cheer him up, Thatch offered to bring him to the kitchen and show him how 'the magic works'. Ace had wanted to come along when he was pulled back to the dining room by Izou, and seated right between Haruta and Vista, "Thatch, Atmos and Curiel can take him, Ace, take a break for yourself,"

"I don't need a break," and especially not from Marco of all people.

"Fine, but we do need to talk to you," the crossdressing commander replied, sternly crossing his arms in front of his chest even though his voice was a lot more patient and sympathetic than his pose made it out, "It's about Marco. The other commanders had a meeting this morning, we'll be arriving at Cheynol Isles tomorrow noon the latest to meet with Doctor Nuclea. She called us this morning from Den Den Mushi and told us more about her experiment that caused this entire situation,"

"The gist of it is, like we established yesterday, it's a time travel potion that sent Marco at 5 years old to our time, while ours is gone instead of changing places with his younger self. We didn't think too much of it, but this means there is no one on the other end on this kid Marco's timeline, and that simple change could be detrimental to the existing time line," Haruta's voice was somber, dejected and concerned, his short bangs covering half of his eyes as he bowed his head, "Right now, we don't really feel it and probably nothing did change since he's… well, slaves aren't really known to be cared for whether they live or die, are they?"

When Ace's back tensed up, the brunet apologized and fell silent once more, and with a sigh, Vista continued on for him, "She had a long speech about why she thinks she couldn't send our Marco to that time, but none of it was really important. But one important thing she did mention is that the universe itself might try to balance things out, and that was why it will only be a matter of time that Marco disappear. There can only be one in the timeline,"

"And it's not just about that. This Marco doesn't belong to this time," Izou added quietly, "Anything could happen to him should he stay here longer, and we can't take that risk,"

"So we have to quickly get Marco back and send his kid self back to his own time, i get it," he's snippy, and they don't deserve his attitude when they're only helping and just as concerned as he was, but Ace's can't help it. He knows all of this since yesterday, knows that after everything he did to take care of this child Marco— of this battered, tortured, confined child who doesn't even know what the skies look like, he's going to have to send him back to that miserable life.

A hand was placed on his back, caressing up and down his spine, "We just wanted to warn you on what's going to happen. Pops… Pops told us too last night after you and Marco left, to make him as happy as he possibly could before he had to leave. It's not fair to any of us, Ace, but, maybe he doesn't need to know after all,"

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it, does Marco even know what's going on right now? He just woke up one day and he's suddenly surrounded by strangers who probably treated him better in one day than anyone he ever seen in his life. We can't just tell him," Vista's voice choked out, and he excused himself to take a deep breath before continuing, "We can't just tell him that all of this is temporary,"

"If he even understood what 'temporary' even mean," Haruta added quietly behind him.

Ace knows what they're implying, but his chest felt tight and his throat felt dry as he voiced out, "You want to just send him back without saying anything,"

Vista and Haruta were silent. It was Izou who spoke up, tone grave, "What choice do we have? He's just a kid, it'll be less painful this way,"

"And what, you think he'll just forget about it? Kids felt hurt too, kids can feel betrayed too! You want him to suddenly wake up back in whatever hellhole he came from without any of us, no explanation whatsoever?" Plenty of people were starting to look his way, but Ace didn't care. His temper flared faster than his fire could, face twisted in an ugly scowl, "Is that what you're telling me?"

"He won't remember,"

Ace turned to Izou, who had spoken, teeth gritted, "What do you mean?"

The kimono-clad man sighed, reaching up to fix a loose strand of hair and resolutely not looking at him, "You remember how the doctor's Devil Fruit has a side effect? That's what i mean, and the last part we haven't told you. She already made the antidote, but it won't just take him back, it would also erase this Marco's memory caused by the effect of the potion the antidote counters. It's a side effect, but she believed this to be better for him," he fell silent, before adding with a shake of his head, "He's not going to remember any of us either way,"

There's a lump in Ace's throat, one that once swallowed, it felt like it fell to his stomach and become heavier than a ton of lead. His voice quivers as he spoke, breaking right in the middle, "He… he's not going to remember?"

So he won't remember any of this? He won't remember Moby and everyone on board, won't remember Thatch's food and the kindness of fellow slaves like Atmos, Kingdew and Namur, won't remember Haruta teaching him how to use a spoon or the First Division members who talked to him last night? He won't remember Pops teaching him about the sky and sitting on his shoulder, and he won't remember Ace at all?

Marco won't remember that even for a while, there are people who loved and cared for him?

It was only Vista's hand guiding him to slowly sit back down to stop him from falling over, knees weak and breath shuddering. Is it truly a good thing, like Izou said? Maybe it'll hurt less if he doesn't remember. After all, eventually that Marco will be the adult Marco, right? He'll get out of that place courtesy of Pops, he'll lead a better life. Things would turn out alright for him.

But even to this day, Marco could never forget that part of his past. To this day, many years later, he still woke up in cold sweat, the memory was still tender and painful, and no one to comfort him in his moment of terror. Not even Ace.

The one time he could, the one time there are people who was there for him, and Marco won't even remember it?

"That… that's just—"

The loud creaking sound and Thatch's voice piercing the relative silence in the room made him stop, and Ace look up to the direction of the door leading to the kitchen to find Atmos holding the door open and Thatch exiting, eyes trained at something behind him. It wasn't long until he was trailed by Marco, or at least, a plate full of food with a pair of legs similar to Marco's.

"Now you remember what to say?" Ace could hear Thatch say as he and Marco made their way over to the table he's occupying, Atmos and Curiel trailing behind them. He couldn't see or hear the boy's answer, but Thatch lit up and let out a jolly, "Great! Now, just like i taught you, kiddo,"

The three adults came to a stop just a few feet away from the table but Marco kept walking, staggering slightly and nearly tripping over himself as he reach up to the tabletop with his tiptoes to put the plate. Vista caught him on time, lifting him up to stand on the swordsman's thigh. He was smiling, though the shadows of gloominess from their interrupted conversation was still evident in his eyes, "Ho, ho, that's a lot of food you got there, Marco. You're going to finish all of it?"

Marco shook his head, strands of blond hair swaying along with the motion, "No," he turned around - with Vista's help and lifted the plate once more, before offering it to Ace, thrusting with some level of difficulty - it did look pretty heavy - to the logia, "Ace, give to Ace,"

The logia only stared at the plate silently, frozen in place.

With furrowed brows, Marco cocked his head to Thatch's direction, receiving a thumbs up in return. With his lips pressed thin, he leaned over even more, causing some of the sauce from the plate to drip off on the table and some to Ace's pants, "Thatch say, Thatch say Ace like food, so i give food for thang— thank you," the boy bit his lips nervously, and he peeked shyly from behind the mountain on the plate, "Um, thank you, Ace,"

Gingerly, Ace took the plate off from Marco before it could tip off and spill everything, placing it back to the table.

Then he pulled Marco none too gently, startling a yelp out of the boy and held on to the tiny, warm body with all of his might, face buried behind narrow, thin shoulder.

Nobody said a word, not even when he accidentally let out an audible shuddering breath in the midst of the now quiet room.

"A-ace…?" small hand wounded itself around his hair, pulling slightly, "…Don't like?"

"No, that's not it, i like it a lot," he spoke in low whisper, ignoring the incessant urge that caused his eyes to sting, that made him bit his lip so hard that he was sure they're bleeding now. It won't do any good to show how upset he is to Marco, he doesn't want to show his face right now to the boy, "Just, just let me stay like this for a while, okay? Let me hold you like this for a while,"


There has never been a time in his life where the sunset could be such a daunting sight, and yet from the top of the bird's nest, he can't help but feeling nothing but trepidation at the sight of the sun slowly disappearing in the horizon.

At least Marco didn't share his anxiety. He's been standing on the stool left for anyone who's on guard duty, holding and peering over the edge to watch the sigh of passing time. Ace stood right behind him, holding on to the young boy to keep him stable and make sure he won't do the same mistake as before. Jumping off from Pops' shoulder is one thing, but if anything happened to Marco because he was too absorbed in his own thoughts, Ace didn't think he'd be able to ever forgive himself.

"Sun… go away?"

"It will when night time comes. It'll come back tomorrow morning,"

Below them, everyone was minding their own businesses, life goes on as usual. At least, it was the illusion maintained well enough by thousands of adults who knows what is going to happen once the sun rose once again. He wasn't blind to the look of pity sent to his back when he climbed up here, knows so many people had seen him close to breaking down in the dining area this afternoon and thought it wise to let him have his own private moment with this Marco.

Maybe that wasn't fair of him to be acting like this. The decision by the commanders wasn't the easiest thing to do. He hadn't seen Pops the entire day ever since they met this morning on the deck, but he knew their captain was hit the hardest by this. He overheard one of the passing nurses saying they were forbidden from entering Whitebeard's room for the day, with the instruction to leave any food or medicine he need to take in front of the door. One of them peeked inside and saw the captain drinking before they left him alone.

They are all equally wrapped in their own sorrow, but it's better them than Marco. The boy had had enough pain in his life, and tomorrow, they'd have no choice but to return him to that life.

It was all for the sake of their brother, the one they know. So then why does it hurt so much to think about it?

"Ace?"

"Yeah?"

The ship's future First Mate's turned around carefully, tilting his head upwards to meet Ace's eyes. He looked conflicted, one hand gripping on to his wrist, "Tomorrow, i… i can fly?"

Ace's breath hitched, lips pulled to scowl.

Marco's eyes widened, lips trembling and suddenly, he was struggling in Ace's hold, backing himself to the bird's nest's border, "N-no, i won't ask again, won't ask again, please, please,"

It was the sheer amount of fear in those simple words that finally made him realize, and immediately Ace knelt down, making it so he would be the one who has to look up to Marco and grabbed both of the boy's hands in his hold, "No, no, Marco, no, i'm not angry at you. I promise, i'm sorry i scared you, i didn't mean to,"

What kind of life makes you this fearful over asking an innocent question? What kind of child hold that much fear in their eyes?

The kind of life that sticks to you for years on end, even after it is all over. And that child would be a child who would grow up having nightmares his entire life, forever bearing all of his scars, both visible and invisible to the eyes.

Ace gathered Marco in his arms, holding him close and caressing his hair as he brought the two of them to sit down against the pillar in the middle of the nest, "Hey," he called softly against a head of blonde, "Do you want to see something cool?"

Slowly, warily, he could feel Marco nodding against his shoulder. Ace loosened his grip, allowing the young boy to turn to his side and rest his head against his shoulder as he brought up his free arm and extended it in front of him, "Okay, watch closely," he said, before letting fire crawl out of his skin, lighting up his arm from the shoulder down to the tip of his fingers. The flame was gentle, barely wisps licking out from his pores, basking it in the colour that compliments the gradient on the sky.

Instead of excitement, Marco let out a muffled yell, moving backwards, frantically trying to get away, "No! That… that hurt! That hurt the most! Please, Ace, please, no!"

He extinguished the fire faster than he ever summoned them, cursing himself for his stupidity as he tried to calm Marco's sudden panicked reaction. Fuck, hadn't he seen that some of the scars on Marco's body yesterday had been burn marks? Even the slave mark on his chest could only be caused by none other than extreme heat, he should've realized that to this Marco, fire was bad omen and could only cause pain.

His Marco had always complimented his fire, both for the devastation they can cause or simply Ace's mastery of it, and in their moment of privacy, he would say it was one of things that attracted him to Ace, describing it as an inexplicable feeling of comfort and serenity. He would say the same of Marco's own flames, that despite their lack of destructive capability, they exude power and protection. It made a strong man even stronger, and they way they would mingle, blue against red, there has never been a sight more beautiful and not even their most private moment gave the same sense of intimacy.

He thought at the very least, he could share something that special for him and his Marco with this child one. But of course, he can't even do that.

After a while, Marco finally gone still, his body stopped shaking and his little cries has stopped. Ace sat dejected and angry, to himself, to whoever from Marco's past responsible for the horrors in his lover's life, to circumstances that led to all of this happening.

In his deep muling, he failed to see a small hand reaching out, until he felt a weak poke against his arm.

The logia looked down to find Marco gazing at his arm warily, whispering, "Ace fire… can hurt?"

He tightened his hold around the boy's waist, "Yes, but never to you. I would never hurt anyone that i love,"

Marco kept staring at him, brows furrowed at the last word he uttered in incomprehension. The way his eyes lit up at least, shows that he understood it's nothing bad, and bravely reach out for the older male's arm again, tracing the hard lines of muscle, waiting.

Carefully, as not to startle the boy again, Ace let the fire start from his upper arms, letting it trail down to his elbow before it continues on to his wrist and hand, keeping as small as he possibly could manage. He watched as Marco extended his hand, hovering above the tendrils of fire to test the heat, and as he put his hand even closer, blue flame licks started appearing from his own hand. Skittish as a mouse, he tapped on the surface of Ace's arm, bypassing the heat and when he suddenly turned with wide eyes and big smile, Ace was caught off guard.

"'s warm," was said with no small amount of wonder, "Warm, like Ace!"

Gaining the courage, he started running his hand through the length of the commander's arm, squeezing here and there curiously and finally reaching the base of Ace's hand, just right between his palm and wrist. The fire there was significantly larger, on account of habit, but Marco kept venturing until his own small palm was pressed against Ace's much bigger one. It was funny how small Marco's hand was compared to his right now, when that hand used to be larger, with lithe finger that lost to Ace's in terms of width but not length.

And there, is what he meant. The moment blue found red, the coolness of Marco's fire to his heat, the power to destroy and the power to heal, none that can conquer the other and all they do was dance around each other. Joined to be one. A vivid display of beauty, deserving of one another, pulled by each other, holding trust that one could not be harmed and the other would not be extinguished.

Just how it's supposed to be between them.

And just like that, he knows what to do. What needs to be done.


When Marco fell asleep that night on his chest, there's a small smile on his lips, blissfully unaware of his fate.

Ace pressed a long kiss to the top of his head, humming Luffy's song, ignoring his hitched breaths and watery eyes.

Outside, on the distance, he could hear the rumbling of thunder, and wasn't even remotely surprised.


Cheynol Isles is hidden behind two major port towns, deceptively small and barren when the real treasure was placed right in the heart of it. Jiru commented that the entire place reminded him of something out of an account about Doctor Vegapunk's laboratory, or the sort of cheesy description in a science fiction book. Marco looked wary, occasionally hiding his face on Ace's shoulder as they ventured even deeper into the forest. Obviously, the lack of light made him like this, but Ace can't help to think that he understood something bad is going to happen.

Doctor Nuclea was an old refined woman, with the posture of a regal woman that would've been more suited to wear luxurious dresses and lives in a castle rather than an old blanched lab coat in the middle of nowhere. As it is however, her authority over her territory was uncontested, when she met Whitebeard with her head held high and a displeased look on her face, "I did not expect one of my work to be causing so much trouble out there because of those demented pirates. This is why i hate them. If your reputation hadn't preceded you, Whitebeard, i would've deny you too,"

"And i appreciate that you're willing to help us, doctor," The giant captain diplomatically replied and gave the commanders who came with him a brief glance. Knowing what he's asking for, Ace stepped out of the small crowd, ignoring the curious look Marco gave him.

The doctor gave him a once over before turning her attention to the reason why they're there, sharp eyes calculative, "Impressive. I haven't had the concoction tested out - nobody seems willing to be a test subject anymore these days - so this is truly fascinating to see," she reached down to the messenger back she had on her side, fishing out a small bottle that Ace vaguely remember to be the same shape as the one that was thrown at Marco.

She handed it to Ace, "Have him take all of it, to the very last drop. And hurry, i don't know at what point does this entire thing messed up the timeline, or how much longer his adult self has left,"

Ace eyed the bottle in his hand blankly, and without a word, he gently placed Marco down. The boy obediently stood on the ground, with one hand still clinging on to Ace's hand while warily glancing at the forest behind them. Ace wanted to tell him that the thing he needed to fear was not the gloomy forest but rather this small thing he had in his hand, and by extension, Ace himself, who felt like he was about to commit the worst thing in his life.

"Marco," he called softly, kneeling in front of the young zoan and giving him the small bottle to hold. Marco took it with a confused look, gripping it on both hands.

"Ace?"

The dark haired male took in a shuddering breath, clasping both of Marco's hand into both of his own. He glanced at Pops and Doctor Nuclea, wordlessly wishing for a moment alone with Marco. He had said before they arrived that he will be the one to do this, despite his fellow commanders insisting to help. It would've been easier that way, that he won't have to hold the burden himself, but he owed Marco this.

Whitebeard nodded solemnly, and muttered to the doctor to follow him, who protested about staying for research until the captain gave her a stern, commanding look. Finally, she raised both arms in defeat, and walked away with him, to where the rest was waiting just a few feet away.

He didn't pay them any more attention, turning back to Marco and tried to muster a smile, even though it hurts doing so, "Can i tell you a story?"

"S-story? What.. story?"

"A story about a man, a really great man," it was easier to smile now, melancholic as it is, when the form of said man appear in his mind, "When he was your age, he was hurt really bad by so many bad people. Every day, people hurt him in so many ways, so badly. He has so many scars, maybe he cried every day, or just feel sad," There's tenseness in Marco's eyes the moment he heard the word 'hurt', and his hands in Ace's own began to curl inward. With a thumb, Ace massaged the back of his small hand, trying to give him what little comfort he can give now, "Until one day, it's not like that anymore,"

The wind blew, and the grey sky seems to be become darker above them. It's going to rain soon, Ace knows. Fitting.

What starts with the rain might end with one as well.

"A very nice man saved him one day from the bad people. This man would give him home, teach him so many things, including flying," Marco's entire face perked up at the mention of flying, and Ace couldn't help but smile. Even as he felt the first prickle in his eyes, "Together, they sail the seas for a very long time. Other people started joining too, many, many people, and every single one of them becomes this man's family,"

"Fam-family…,"

Ace nodded, "Yeah. Family. They all care about each other, fight together, have fun together, they all do everything together, nothing can separate them. Like a family should,"

The wind blew stronger, and somewhere, there's a rumbling up the sky. He could hear someone mutter behind him, low enough he couldn't catch what they say, and he didn't try to find out.

"This man becomes a really strong man. Everyone likes him, everyone look up to him. He's always so brave, so proud, he's a really great man," Ace's smile faded, and he bowed his head down, "But the thing is, sometimes, the great man can still feel sad. The bad people who hurt him never leaves his mind, and because of it, he can't sleep, he can't have fun, and sometimes, when no one is looking, he can also cry and feel scared,"

A strong back that wasn't always so strong, one that faces him to hide away the face of a broken man. A back that he wished he can reach out to, that he can pull to his embrace and receive one in return to calm his own fears and worries.

"Marco," the blonde boy stumbled a little when Ace pulled him close, so close that their foreheads touch, "I love that great man. I love him so much, he and his family gave me a family. He gave me love, me, someone who doesn't deserve it, and he gave me the kind of happiness i didn't think i could ever have. All i wanted was to repay him,"

Marco was silent, his hand twitching every now and then, but gave little else. He looked up when Ace calls his name again, blue meets grey. The commander took in a shuddering breath, tightening his hold on the tiny hands and the bottle, "Marco, your place isn't here. Someone else is supposed to be here, with us. And we missed him so much. I missed him so much," with heavy heart, Ace lifted their hands, gesturing to the bottle, "But to get him back, we have to let you go,"

Suddenly, the curiousity and childishness behind those blue eyes disappeared, and the look on Marco's face was one of anguished fear, "L-let… go?"

Ace stomach churned painfully as he nodded, and he felt his heart clenching when the first tear drop fell from Marco's eyes. He hadn't cried at all in the days they had him, not when he thought he was being poisoned, not when he was scared, but right now, it was Ace who finally caused them to be shed. His little lips quivers and his breathing turned erratic, "I… I go back?"

The way he said back, as if it was his worst nightmare, made Ace's breath hitched, "I'm so sorry, Marco,"

"No, please, don't want to go back," little hands scrambled to grasp his, shaking and even sweating, "Hurts, always hurts. Don't… don't want…don't want to go back. Want to… w-want to s-s-stay,"

Somewhere behind them, Ace could hear someone swearing loudly, emotionally, and he wished he could so the same.

Fat tear drops fell from Marco's eyes to his jaw, already drenching his cheeks. His entire face was red and his eyes so lost, unable to believe why this is happening, wishing it wasn't ture, "Please? Please, Ace. Want to stay, please?"

When he sensed that Ace wouldn't budge, Marco started looking behind them, to the commanders and especially to Pops, repeating the same words over and over again, "Please, it hurts. Don't like— don't want to go back. Don't want hurt, no more hurt, please…," when no one would answer him, the moment Ace saw the commanders even started looking away, Marco's cried became even worse, his knees shaking and he squeezed his eyes shut, but even that couldn't stop his tears.

As the first of Ace's own tear fell, he pulled the boy into an embrace, feeling Marco torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer, still begging in between sobs and chokes.

Ace held him as the wind picked up and the sky gradually darkened even more, until Marco's tears stopped and his body was limp in his hold. His little sobs would echo in Ace's mind for years to come, along with the guilt, the pain, the hatred for the necessity.

"Marco?" he whispered finally, hearing his own voice breaking and an imaginary lump forming in his throat, "Can i tell you something else?"

The body in his arm was unresponsive at first, but in the end, he could feel a tiny nod.

"You know the great man in my story? The one that i love?" Marco nodded again, with a little squeaked hum that sounded painfully resigned, "Well, it's actually you,"

The hand clutching on to him went lax, and Ace felt him pushing away, enough so they can see face to face again. Marco's eyes, bloodshot and still streaming down tears were fully focused on him.

At the sight a large smile blooms on Ace's face, and he chuckled, bringing a hand up to wipe the tears off that poor little face, "You will grow up to be a great man, surrounded by so many people who you love and loves you back. They will never let anything hurt you, they will become your family, and you will never be alone anymore. Everyday, you will be free, you'll soar the skies with your wings, you'll never let anyone hurt someone you care about," with the last tear wiped off, Ace framed the side of Marco's face, still so small and delicate, but now he could see the shadows of similarities, "And you're the man i will love and cherish with all my heart,"

Slowly, he let his hand slid down, once again cupping Marco's hands and the bottle held in between, "But now is not your time," he whispered, "One day, you'll meet us again, and by then, you'd know more about family, about love, and you'll even know how to fly," he let out a wet chuckle, broken by his own sob, "And when that day comes, we will welcome you with open arms, and you'll be back home with us. I promise you that. You just need to hold on,"

There's still tremendous sadness in Marco's eyes, hesitation and unwillingness, but his moved his hands, still holding on to the bottle, clutching them tightly. Reluctantly, and with a shuddering breath, he started prying on the lid, and after a while, it was finally opened.

Despite all of his words, when Marco lifted the bottle to his lips, it was Ace who wanted to stop him, who wanted to swipe the damned thing away and let the doctor's hard work be wasted. He'll still have his Marco one day, he can wait, but this time, this one doesn't have to suffer. He won't have to endure who knows how much longer he still has of that life until Pops found him, maybe he'll have a better life, and maybe he would never have nightmares ever again.

But then Marco looked up, and all words died in Ace's tongue, "Ace?"

"Yes, Marco?"

Another drop of tear fell from the corner of the child's eyes, but he was smiling serenely, smiling in the face of fear, and Ace felt he didn't deserve to even see it, "See you?"

A choked sob left him, and now it was Ace who was crying, tears blurring his vision and his body trembling, "I'll see you again, Marco,"

The potion was downed in a single gulp.

He was quick enough to catch Marco's small body as it fell limp all of the sudden, the boy's eyes closed and his lips slightly parted, drops from the potion still evident on his lips. His entire body felt numb, unresponsive.

Above them, the thunder struck once more, and suddenly, the heavens opened, pouring down on top of them.

But even the loudest storm couldn't quell the sound of Ace's cries, holding Marco's still body tightly and never wanting to let go.