Pairing: Ace/Marco
Notes: Thank you to lunarshores and everyone reading this. I hope you enjoy the final chapter - I promised it wouldn't end sadly!
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For as long as he can remember, Marco has known. He's known of a world before the one he lives in now since he could crawl, and he knows that almost no one else does. He says almost no one, for at the age of twenty eight, he hasn't met anyone who does remember like he does (and he's seen plenty of familiar, painful faces), but there is still hope inside of Marco.
The world has changed a lot. The modern era, they call it, with planes replacing sea trains and pirates a romantic mystery. Marco snorts at the kid programmes and the blockbuster movies that come out about pirates. They'll never know the value of nakama or the love of the sea like he does.
Marco lives on what used to be a favoured island of the Whitebeard Pirates. It's changed dramatically with the times, huge sprawling cities springing up where there used to be wild forests, but it's a connected island. High speed trains ferry people to neighbouring islands in minutes, there are two airports, and Marco even owns a car to get him from A to B.
He misses the sea and his pirate life, but he is also a new person. Marco lived for years, long enough to watch the great empire Luffy brought with him when he claimed the title of pirate king rise and sustain. He spent years alone too, the sea his only companion, and while Marco will always love her, she is part of his past now.
Marco does buy an apartment looking out onto the ocean, however. Every time after he sees a face from his old life in the city streets, he'll stand at his windows for the night, watching the waves until the sadness in his chest fades.
He has friends, even people from his past life. His side twinges when he meets with Thatch, and he always has a hard time saying goodbye when he leaves Edward's house, but they understand Marco.
Edward has had dreams, and while he doesn't fully understand, he does remember Marco as a child (they didn't meet in this world until they were at university together, paired together for an assignment), and he remembers the open ocean. He listens when Marco needs to talk, and looks after him, though Marco is sure Edward doesn't notice it. He will always be Marco's Oyaji, and Edward never reacts when the name slips from Marco's lips.
Thatch is a different matter. He is younger than Marco, full of energy and anger at the world. He's a human rights activist, trying to open the eyes of the world up to the darkness lurking, and Marco sees very little of him, even when he is in town. He's busy trying to change the world, and Marco watches proudly.
"You're like my brother," Thatch says one night, over dinner at a small, newly opened restaurant. Marco pauses around a mouthful of chicken, eyes locked on Thatch and his heart pounding in his chest.
"I'm an only child, but I feel like if I had a brother, he'd be you." Thatch glances at him, laughing awkwardly. "Sorry, that's a weird thing to say."
Marco shakes his head, swallowing the food in his mouth. It sticks in his throat, and he has to reach shakily for his glass of water.
"No," he manages out, smiling at Thatch. "You're my brother."
Nothing more needed to be said after that. They'd become brothers as easily this time around as they had before.
He still cannot see colours. That is the one thing that has remained unchanged in this world – aside from the amount of books and films on the subject of course. There are the informative books, the comedy ones that ignore free will of people and force horrified couples together for cheap laughs, and then there are the tragedies.
Marco's never considered selling his own story, but he knows it would fetch a decent price. Media loves sadness, and Marco feels as if he's drenched in it.
He hasn't seen Ace. And Marco knows that Ace will be his soulmate in this lifetime too, how can he not be? He is content with a green tinge to his greys, and fear fills him at the prospect of meeting Ace once more.
Devil's fruits are a thing of the past, and Marco seems to be ageing as any other human would be, but panic still claws at him. Marco has had to see his world fade before, he is not sure he can be strong enough to watch it again in such a short time.
So Marco scans crowds everywhere he goes, trying to search for a face he knows he will see one day. If he knows Ace is on the island, Marco can prepare himself, avoid meeting Ace's eyes and keep the cloak of grey around his world. Ace won't remember him, no one else does, and that is how Marco wants to keep it.
His daily routine is nothing too special. Marco gets up, runs around the city sometimes if he feels like it, has breakfast and then gets dressed for work. He mostly walks, but some days he'll get in his car and drive to the office. He'll greet his colleagues, head to his office and settle for the day. He'll meet Edward for lunch (they co-created the company, after all, and while it's small, they make a comfortable amount of money on ecological marketing campaigns), and they might make plans to meet up later, they might not. Eventually, Marco will finish at the office and go home, make dinner and go to bed.
Marco knows he's not really living. He's pretending, going through his life in fear that he'll find Ace and lose him again. He pretends well, that's for sure, but it doesn't change the fact that it is pretending.
Sometimes, Marco doesn't pretend. Some days he wakes and exits the house briskly, with the air of a man who knows exactly what he wants and is going to get it. He'll go to the busiest parts of the city, sit in coffee shops and shopping cafés, looking out at the people in hopes he sees dark hair and a bright smile. He never does, and that night Marco will wonder what he was thinking.
He might not want to see Ace again, but Marco knows that, deep down, he needs to. He doesn't quite remember what it is like to hold someone he loves or share his intimate secrets, but there is a part of him that Marco is aware is gone.
If he never had the idea of his past life in his head, Marco knows he would be fine. But he does. He remembers, and it kills him, holds him back even when Marco doesn't want to find Ace.
There is a reason he stays in this city, and the reason comes to him when he's at a local café, picking up a late lunch to take back to the office. He pays the cashier, grabs his sandwich and crisps, and exits the shop, just like every other visit he makes to the shop.
Marco adds the total up in his head and checks his change, frowning as he notices he's been short-changed. He turns, rolling his eyes and looking to the shop door, but he catches the glance of a stranger instead.
No. Not a stranger. Marco's world blooms into colour, and all thoughts of missing money fall from his mind. The stranger (Ace, his mind screams, Ace is there) has their mouth open, and Marco feels ill. He must look a state, but he rips his gaze away from the stranger's (Ace's) eyes and steps onto the road, darting between the cars that are waiting for the roads to clear. He can hear the beep of car horns and the stranger's voice (Ace's voice, and oh how it makes Marco tremble to hear him) call desperately after him.
Marco is gone though. He knows these streets well, and he doesn't stop running until he is at home. His sandwich and crisps are ruined, crushed during his escape, and Marco knows he needs to phone Edward and explain why he vanished. He'll pretend he became sick or something, anything, just so he doesn't have to go outside and see Ace.
While he's been waiting his entire life to meet Ace and avoid him, actually doing it is terrifying. Marco wants to go back and find Ace, apologise and hold his hand. He wants to take Ace around the city, watch his eyes light up in delight when he sees that Marco's house has a view of the ocean, and he wants to show Ace how much he loves him.
A coward was something Marco never would have been in his past life. But he is not the pirate Marco anymore. He is neither immortal nor unprepared for what darkness after so many colours is like. Marco knows loneliness, and it is an inevitable fact of life once again.
He turns away from the window, leaving the sea behind. She cannot help him: Marco has to help himself.
His bed is the sensible place to make decisions, and Marco strips down to his underwear and socks, wrapping his duvet around himself and burrowing into his pillows. He's spent so long thinking of ways to avoid Ace before the colours returned that he'd never contemplated that their eyes would meet and their worlds would come alive.
His room is pale blue, Marco can see. His covers are a pale yellow, and his furnishings a deep brown. He knew that when he bought them, carefully scouring colour-to-grey-matching guides, but seeing them properly is another thing. He isn't sure how he feels, but he can't deny that seeing the colours in their true form fills his chest with delight.
He loves Ace. Marco knows that already, that he'll love whatever Ace has become in this life. He imagines that he can feel Ace now, after they connected on the street. It's probably his imagination, but Marco feels warm inside, comforted.
The fear hasn't gone, but now that the worst has happened, Marco feels it settle in his stomach. He doesn't have to peer around corners or hide away now he knows Ace is here. If he ever sees Ace again, he can simply explain he's not interested. It isn't uncommon these days, and love isn't impossible with someone other than the one who let you see colour.
Marco brings his knees up, closing his eyes. He's exhausted, and he no longer wishes to see colours. He's made his decision, and he plans to stick with it.
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If you ask him, Ace will say he's lived an ordinary life. Nothing remarkable has happened, though that's not to say he hasn't lived happily. He's lived normally, and appreciated the little things in life. He loves his brothers a lot, though he tries to avoid having them round his own house, and enjoys his work. He's an educational assistant for the local museum, though there is a transfer in the future that Ace wants to take.
The most exciting thing that Ace has probably experienced is unveiling a huge, prehistoric sea king skull to the public. He feels nostalgic whenever he walks by it to the educational department, but Ace passes it off with a shrug. Sea kings belong from a time of speculation and mystery, Ace is simply drawn to that, he thinks.
The lack of colour in his life doesn't bother him. Luffy has always said it is overrated, proclaiming his one and only soulmate for everyone to hear to be meat. Ace and Sabo aren't sure if he's joking or not to this day, though Ace has a feeling Luffy is deadly serious.
It would be nice, Ace thinks sometimes, to watch the sun set over the ocean, but he loves the greys too. They fill him with certainty, remind him that he is alive to see each day, and Ace thinks he might miss them if he ever does see colour.
When his transfer goes through successfully, Ace waves his brothers goodbye and moves to a huge educational department in a large city. He feels comfortable in the city, as if he's lived there his entire life, and Ace snaps up a decent apartment close to the museum. He is lucky, he thinks, and wonders if the city likes him, on account of how smoothly his life has run since he moved.
Ace is so busy with integrating into his job and improving it that he hardly notices anything else. So it is, of course, a shock when he's standing on a street, about to push past a man who can't make his mind up on where he wants to go, that he meets the stranger's eyes and his world pops, colours appearing instantly.
Well fuck, is Ace's first thought. He's in the middle of chasing up a client for loan of a rare skeleton – he doesn't have time to sit down and talk about how the world decided they are perfect for each other. He moves to give the stranger (can he keep calling his soulmate a stranger?) his number, but pauses at the pure fear in the man's eyes.
This soulmates thing is a bit scary, Ace recognises, but the fear is something more, something deeper.
That's when the man runs. And it's not in a hidden attempt to get somewhere because the man is late, oh no. Ace watches the man full on sprint away, trying to put as much distance between himself and Ace as he can.
Ace's phone beeps, and he curses at Jinbe's text. He is supposed to be outside the client's house by now, and Jinbe's wondering where he is. He really doesn't have time to think of soulmates, and Ace sets off for the house.
It is nice to see the world in colour, he thinks. He questions the client on the skeleton, noticing a few patches on the bones that look damaged – from lack of proper care. The client offers his apologies, and Ace knows Jinbe's looking at him in curiosity, wondering how he knows the colours are brown and not a variant of grey.
They talk about it over take away cartons at Ace's flat that night.
"Oh, well I think I met my soulmate," Ace says casually. Food falls from Jinbe's fork as he stares at Ace for a moment.
"You think?" he questions, and Ace shrugs his shoulders. Now he hasn't got a client to run to, he feels uncomfortable about how it all happened.
"Well… he ran away." Ace looks down at his food, ignoring Jinbe's incredulous stare. "And I had to get to the client."
Silence fills the room and Ace risks looking at his colleague. He can't hold back the laugh when he sees the odd look on Jinbe's face, and Ace sets his food down, shaking his head with a smile.
"Come on," Ace says, "it's not that bad."
He picks his food up, and continues trying to explain.
"It's just… I've never felt as if this whole soulmates thing is important. I don't need some stranger in my life just because they helped me see some colours, you know?" Ace chews thoughtfully, hoping Jinbe isn't one of those really strict soulmate people, the ones who think life is just about finding your soulmate and nothing else. Ace hates those people.
"Plus, I don't need some stranger to love me." Ace smiles. "I'm already loved enough."
Jinbe doesn't say anything more, and he agrees with Ace. Soulmates are a nice concept when looked at from afar, but there are so many things that just don't work. There is no set model for a perfect connection, and Ace favours the scientists trying to prove that colour appearing isn't to do with love or even a magical, romantic connection. Some people just share a connection, even if that connection is merely two strangers meeting on the street.
Ace tucks himself into bed happily that night. He never really wanted a life with colours, but now he has them, it's not so bad. His lamp is still on, and the room is lit up in a warm, comforting glow. It is nice to see the colours, Ace decides.
He falls asleep quickly, and wakes a few hours later, unsure why. A dream is on the edge of his waking, and Ace feels the need to sit up, cling onto it tightly and focus on the dream.
What he can remember, he mulls over after he's turned the light on. Ace is shocked when he sees the room light up in colours other than grey, and it takes him a moment to remember why he can suddenly see this world.
Which leads him, in turn, to the dream. He is sure that the stranger he met was in the dream, and that they were in the middle of the ocean. Ace remembers feeling content, standing at the railings of a huge ship.
He isn't sure how the dream ended, but Ace woke up with a burning feeling in his chest. His skin tingles and he slide out of bed, turning lights on as he moves to the bathroom. He is uncomfortable, and stands before the mirror, staring at his reflection.
Something tells him that the dream wasn't entirely just a dream. He doesn't know what it was, but something niggles at him, and Ace moves from the bathroom to grab his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he finds the number he wants.
"Sorry to bother you so late," he says, when the phone picks up. Ace calms the initial questions of whether he's okay or not, and moves to sit on his bed, gazing at his red bed sheets.
"What was the story you told us as kids?" he asks, and there is a pause on the other end of the line.
"You want me to tell you a bedtime story?" Ace's father asks, and Ace doesn't have an answer.
"Alright then," his father says, his rough laugh soothing Ace. He falls back on the bed, putting the phone on speaker as he tucks himself in.
"There once was a man who achieved everything one could in the world." Ace nodded, closing his eyes to imagine the story. "He was a pirate, the king of pirates in fact, but everything has its day. The pirate king was ill, dying in fact, and had little time left."
Ace puts a face to the pirate king behind his eyelids, imagining him standing atop a huge ship on a vast ocean.
"Who was his enemy?" Ace asked, needing to hear something other than how the king had died. "Not the government, but his other enemy."
There is silence for a moment, then his father hums to himself.
"You never want to know stuff like this," he says, and Ace curls his knees up to his chest, moving his phone next to his ear and turning the volume down a little.
"I know," Ace says, closing his eyes again. "I just want to check something."
His father launches into a gallant tale of two pirate crews, constantly warring against each other, yet friends. He laughed about it fondly, and Ace is reminded of why he wanted to call his father.
"Do you believe in past lives?" he asks, and his father grows quiet.
"What makes you ask that?" he says, and Ace imagines him tilting his head, wide grin on his face. "My storytelling skills are amazing, but-"
"I had a dream, and it woke me up." Ace opens his eyes, looking at his fingers curled over the bottom of his phone. "I was a pirate, I think. I was on a ship, on the open sea, and I was happy."
His father doesn't say anything, unlike most people. He doesn't make a joke asking if Ace is unhappy now and doesn't roll his eyes and pass it off as just a random dream. That is why Ace called his father, because he knew he'd understand.
"It didn't feel like a dream," Ace says quietly.
"Do you believe in past lives?" his father asks, and Ace frowns.
"I don't know," he answers honestly, toes wriggling as he thinks. "Maybe?"
"Sometimes I think I was the pirate king I tell stories about," his father admits, voice secretive and only for Ace's ears. "The stories I've always told, they feel as if they're more than just stories."
Roger pauses, and Ace waits.
"They feel like memories," he says eventually, and Ace swallows thickly.
"You think I was a pirate in a past life?" Ace says, and he knows his tone is disbelieving. He cannot help it, the notion that he's already lived once and forgotten seems ridiculous.
"Perhaps," his father replies, "if you believe in that sort of thing."
Ace thinks about the dream, thinks about how the wind had felt in his hair and the smell of the ocean had seemed so real. He doesn't think it could have been a dream, but why would such a memory only surface now?
"There was someone with me in the dream," Ace ventures. He has an idea, to see if his father's story is a memory or just something he feels passionate about. "He was blond, tall, had an almost completely shaved head."
Ace doesn't add that this man was the very one who had helped him see colour. Soulmates aren't important at the moment, not when his father's on the phone.
"The Phoenix," Roger replies instantly. "I don't know his name."
Ace sighs lightly.
"Thanks, Dad," he says, wishing Roger a goodnight. He works a night shift, so Ace doesn't feel bad for waking him up or anything, though he bets he'll get a call from his mother in the day telling him off for not talking to her.
His conversation hasn't relaxed Ace in the slightest. In fact, it's made him a little more uncomfortable and presents him with now a new, strange idea. Maybe that is why the man – the Phoenix apparently (and is that a gang name or something?) – had taken off running, confronted by a man who had only appeared in his dreams.
Ace snorts and rolls over to turn his lamp off. He'll find the stranger and set this ridiculous notion to rest.
He needs to find him first, though, and Ace has a favour to call in at the museum.
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It's the weekend, and Marco realises he has barely anything in his cupboards. He sighs, grabs his reusable bags and starts up the car, heading for the largest supermarket in his area. It's nice to get out for the first time in a few days, out of his self-imposed exile, and he takes to the aisles, filling his trolley quickly and efficiently.
He sees it when he's almost out of the door. At the side of the exit, there is a board for local adverts, and bold letter call for the phoenix. Marco pauses, considers, and moves to look at the smaller text.
He isn't sure how Ace knew that name, but the poster is undoubtedly seeking him. He wonders where else the information has been posted, and wonders if Thatch will be emailing him soon, linking him to the post. It wouldn't surprise Marco.
Casting a glance around, and ignoring the tremble in his bones, Marco takes the poster from the board, tucking it into his pocket as he pushes his trolley to his car. He manages not to think about it too much until his shopping is put away and he is drinking a cup of coffee, at his kitchen table. The poster is laid out before him, and Marco sighs.
It asks, in short, for Marco to call him and arrange to meet up. Part of Marco hopes that this is Ace's way of telling him he remembers, and that he wants to be with him again, but that would be too convenient. Still, Marco can't help but hope, and that hope is what forces him to pick up the phone and dial the number on the poster.
"Hello, Ace speaking," he says, and Marco feels his world fall from under his feet. His hand clutches his phone and he draws in a shaky breath. Nothing could have prepared him for hearing Ace's voice once more, and his entire world seems to brighten.
"Hello?" Ace says again, and Marco makes a swift apology.
"Sorry, I saw your poster," he says, "I, er, ran off the other day when we met."
There is a pause, and then a sound of recognition.
"So you're 'the Phoenix'?" Ace asks, and Marco can see him now, rolling his eyes at the name and giving a small smile. "I'm Ace."
I know, Marco thinks, but he'd sound crazy if he says that. He wants to see if Ace does remember, and perhaps if he does…
"Marco," Marco says, and Ace is silent for a moment.
"I know we're going about this whole thing a little oddly," Ace says, "but do you want to meet for a drink or something? I want to ask you a few questions."
Marco's heart speeds up, and he thinks that maybe, just maybe Ace knows.
It's clear, however, that Ace doesn't know when they do meet up. They've arranged to meet in a casual bar, and Marco makes sure he is smart, but not too smart. He's spent the past week cleaning every inch of his apartment (and office, before Edward told him to stop), trying not to think about Ace, but how can he forget? Ace is in every colour Marco sees, and while he is scared of losing Ace, his heart leaps in joy every morning.
Ace is alive. Ace is free. Ace is here.
Marco gets to the bar first, sits at a table near the entrance, and waits, nervously. He isn't sure entirely what to expect, and so when Ace does enter the bar, Marco looks at him with wide eyes.
He hasn't changed, Marco thinks. Well, he has, but he is still the same Ace that Marco held in his arms. He is older, and that warms Marco's belly as he stands to greet Ace, and the world doesn't press so harshly against him.
"Sorry I'm late," he says instantly, shaking his head as he sits down. Marco tries not to stare, looking down at his drink instead. "They wanted an opinion on something where I worked and obviously had to wait until I was about to leave."
Ace laughs, and Marco bites the inside of his cheek.
"Where do you work?" he asks instead, and Ace stands. He runs to get a drink, and Marco waits, trying not to follow Ace with his eyes. It's clear they're not here to embark on some expected romance, but if Marco has any hopes they could become more, he needs not to freak Ace out. Especially considering he might not know of their past life together.
"The museum," Ace says when he returns, setting his drink down and settling in his seat. "I'm on the education team and transferred pretty recently."
"How are you finding it?" Marco asks, wanting to know as much as he can in this small encounter.
They are comfortable, Marco realises, as Ace takes a sip of his drink and relaxes into his chair. His smile is easy as he launches into an account of his day, and Marco watches him while he listens. He hasn't realised how much he missed the small things about Ace until this moment, and Marco is struggling to think of a proper reason why he is scared of a life of grey.
If his life returns to grey, he will at least have had Ace and shared his love for a small portion of time. Marco realises that he had forgotten how love felt, and he feels ashamed of running away now.
There is something important he needs to know, and he brings it up when they are mid-way through their second drink.
"Why did you put 'Phoenix' on the poster?" he says, and Ace looks at him before ducking his head, fingers playing with his glass.
"It's… an odd story," Ace says, and Marco makes it clear he has all the time in the world.
"After I met you, I had a weird dream." Ace speaks quickly, as if he's afraid Marco will leave before his story's over. As if Marco is going to leave.
"I phoned my dad – he used to tell us weird stories as a kid, and I just knew he'd be able to help." Ace's fingers slide from his glass, and Marco feels his nerves spike. His gut sinks, and he knows Ace doesn't remember him.
"He said something… something about past lives." Ace's voice is uncomfortable, and Marco sits back in his seat, one hand falling to his leg. His fingers pressed into his jeans, and Marco hopes Ace won't sneer at the thought of reincarnation.
Marco spent most of his childhood trying to understand the world he'd left behind, and he isn't sure he can take Ace's rejection.
"I described you to him, and phoenix was all that he could remember." Ace's finger slides down the condensation on his glass, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"I wanted to test it out, to see if putting that on a poster would work." Ace glances at Marco, and there is a tingle of hope that passes through his body. "You showed up, didn't you?"
It isn't an acceptance of their past life, but it's not a rejection either. Marco knows he will have to do a lot of work to open Ace's eyes to the life they shared, but he is prepared to do so. He doesn't need a romantic relationship with Ace. Just being his friend will be enough if it comes down to it.
"If you were to believe in past lives," Marco begins, voice low. He leans forward, resting his wrists on the wooden table between them. "If you believed in them, then you would have known me as Marco the Phoenix."
Ace's eyes widen. He remains silent, but his mind is whirring in thought, Marco knows. Ace is a thinker – a deep thinker. He'll take their conversation with him tonight and dissect it until he has collected every useful piece from it. Marco only hopes that he takes the good, and doesn't reject the idea of past lives. Not that Marco would blame him. It's not an easy thing to stomach.
Marco has known Ace better than anyone, and he downs the remainder of his drink, standing and collecting his coat from the back of his chair.
"If you have any more questions, please call," he says.
It is hard to leave Ace, but Marco knows it's the only way. Ace doesn't remember their freedom on the open seas, and Marco will not force him. Ace is happy in this life, and Marco can live with the ache in his chest.
Marco shivers as he walks into the cold. He can feel the seasons turning, and his breath mists the air as he sighs.
He still misses Ace.
.
Marco isn't exactly what Ace expected him to be. The Marco he talks to is a nice man, has a passion for the environment and seems as normal as anyone. He doesn't seem like a weird guy who believes in conspiracies, past lives and that sort. Ace even likes him, really likes him actually, and thinks that perhaps this whole soulmate thing might be on the right track.
Ace has to know, however, and Marco's reply churns his stomach. He barely registers Marco leaving, and his fingertips press tightly against his glass. Ace isn't sure how long he sits there for, but when he comes to himself, he abandons his drink and leaves, frowning with the cold air outside hits him.
He really doesn't believe in past lives, Ace decides when he stops at a crossing. The sign is green for pedestrians, and Ace watches it turn to red, fascinated by the colours. He's only ever seen a still figure and a walking one, to see their true colours is something remarkable.
Past lives belong on ridiculous TV shows and fantasy stories, Ace decides when he finally crosses the road. The human brain can't cope with two lives, Ace is sure, and he wonders if his father and Marco suffer from some mental condition.
Ace settles in bed that night uncomfortably. His skin is too warm, and he feels trapped. He leaves his door open and cranks the window open, but that hardly makes any difference. When he does finally sleep, he dreams.
In the morning, he can remember three distinct, separate dreams.
In the first, Ace is sitting in a pagoda. Marco is there, but he has the ears of a rabbit and paws to match. They are sitting quietly, listening to a giant, human-sized ant speak of its woes. It's worried there won't be enough sake for their fishing trip.
Ace is pretty sure it's just a strange dream. He's had odd dreams before, as everyone has, and he feels humour when he recalls the dream's events. He wonders if they made their fishing trip.
It's the two other dreams that fill Ace with something else.
The second dream starts with Ace onboard the pirate ship from before. He can see the jolly roger, and a huge man sitting in the sun, laughing with another group of people. Marco is in this one too, though he is far away from Ace, busy checking some papers someone is holding out to him.
In the dream, Ace feels content. Desperation curls on the edge of his mind, though Ace can't think why his other-self feels that way, and the world dims, brightening around Marco.
And then Marco notices him. He smiles, a smile Ace knows is for him alone, and all Ace can feel is happiness. He feels warm, loved, and when he looks back on the dream, a smile springs to his lips.
The final dream is what pushes Ace out of bed at 5am. He shudders when he thinks of it, and moves to sit on his sofa, turning to a mindless channel on TV for some background noise as he tries to process.
He doesn't remember much of the dream, except that it was very dark. Ace feels angry when he remembers it, though he isn't sure why. There was also fire in the dream, a lot of fire, and it had been the burning of the fire that had woken him.
Ace moves to his phone, selecting his recent contacts. He skips the first couple; his brothers would be useless right now. He hovers over his dad's number, and eventually decides against it. There's someone else, someone better, who Ace can talk to.
"Hello, Marco Falls speaking," comes the voice, and Ace pauses in surprise. He hadn't expected Marco to be awake, let alone in full business mode.
"Hi," Ace says, "it's Ace."
There is the sound of something metal clattering on a table (Ace suspects Marco has dropped his cutlery), and Marco lets out a curse.
"Sorry," Ace says, voice light as he smiles. He wonders how much of a mess Marco has made, and leans back against the sofa, stretching his legs out. The memory of the third dream is lessening, and Ace is reminded of the one where Marco was his all.
Ace pauses, looking at the TV. An advertisement is on, and Ace has seen it hundreds of times. It's different, this time, and he watches closely as colours blaze on his screen. He loves colour.
"Ace?" Marco's voice says, and Ace snaps his eyes from the TV, returning to his conversation.
"I have a question, maybe a few," he says, and Marco hums in encouragement. He takes a loud sip of his drink, and Ace knows he must still be at home.
"I'm not bothering you, am I?" he asks, and Marco lets him know he isn't.
"I don't have to leave for another half an hour or so," Marco says. "I'm all ears."
Ace knew Marco would say that. He knew that, whatever time of day he would call, Marco would respond as soon as he could. He knows that from the dream and the one meeting they've shared, and it scares Ace a little. How can he know so much about a person without actually knowing them?
"If I had a past life, I must have died, right?" Marco is silent, and Ace curls his toes into the fabric of the sofa, frowning to himself. He doesn't want to think about his death, and he doesn't want to run Marco's day, but he has to know.
"Yes," Marco says, his voice shaky. Ace winces.
"How?" he ventures, and he wonders if Marco has set the phone down, on account of his quiet he is.
"Do we have to do this over the phone?" Marco says, and he sounds as if he's close to breaking. Ace nods his head though.
"It's the only way I can do it." Ace hears a sigh on the other end. He knows he is pushing Marco, but there is no way he can hear this answer in person. He's finding it hard to keep the phone in his hand, though he knows it's just as hard for Marco.
That thought is what keeps him listening.
"You were killed," Marco says, the words gushing out. The words are clipped, and while they fall easily, Ace knows Marco could stop at any moment and never speak of it again, unable to.
"In that life, we had special powers. I had the power of a phoenix, you had the power of fire," Ace's eyes widen, "and the man who killed you had the power of magma."
Ace thinks on his dream, on the bubbling, melting, burning, scorching sensation over his chest.
"He burnt right through me, didn't he," Ace says, and it isn't a question.
Marco is silent, and Ace hears the TV roar in his free ear, waiting desperately for Marco to answer. The colours before him seem to fade and bold, his connection to Marco wavering, Ace assumes.
"Yes," he says, eventually, voice hollow. "I'm late for work."
Ace understands why Marco hangs up, and he waits until the call is fully disconnected before he pulls his phone away from his ear, letting it fall onto the floor.
He doesn't know what to think. Ace isn't sure whether he's going insane, or whether this past life thing is actually real. He doesn't feel like he's any different than he was one month ago, but he knows so much more. Thinks he knows so much more.
Ace lets out a noise of frustration and springs up off of the sofa. He has work in under an hour and he rushes to get ready, making it to his department on time – just. Jinbe raises an eyebrow at his tardiness, and Ace shakes his head, wishing he'd picked up a coffee and some food on the way in.
When he's supposed to be drafting up next month's education newsletter, Ace researches past lives on the internet. He gets a lot of useless sites, and ignores the annoying adverts that keep popping up (Ace is really beginning to find the colour red annoying), but finds one or two that are reputable.
There is one, just one, that Ace identifies with. There are many entries on one site, and one of them talks of dreams after meeting their soulmate. The person's past life is very different to Ace's, but it still resonates in him, and Jinbe finds him staring at his screen just before lunch.
"You've been asked for upstairs," he says, and Ace shakes his head, eyes wide. He has no tours or meetings scheduled for today, there shouldn't be a reason for him to go out onto the museum floor.
"They say it's a personal reason," Jinbe elaborates, and Ace stands up with a sigh, exiting his browser and rolling his eyes.
"This better not be their idea of a joke," he says and leaves with promises to pick them both some lunch up on the way back.
Ace really doesn't know who to expect, and so it's a shock when he sees who is standing at the desk. The receptionist nods and turns back to their work, leaving Marco to take a few steps towards him.
He looks nice, Ace things. He is in a shirt and jeans, comfortable yet smart. Ace can't help but think it looks odd on him though, though he isn't sure why he's used to a Marco with no clothes. His past life is leaking in, the article had said it had happened for the writer, but it doesn't scare Ace.
"I'm not interrupting am I? I would have called, but…" Marco looks away, suddenly becoming interested in maps of the museum.
"Do you want to go to the aquarium? It's pretty quiet in the week when there aren't kids around." Ace smiles, and leads off to the left side of the museum. Their aquarium is quite small, but it's beautiful, and Ace loves going there when he can. He has a feeling Marco will love it too.
"How's work?" Ace asks on their way, walking side by side with Marco. He is tempted to brush his fingers against the back of Marco's hand, but he doesn't. Even if Ace is remembering things, they still don't know each other as they are now.
"I was told to go home," Marco says, voice tight. "Edward's put me on a sick day."
Ace feels guilt claw at his stomach, as no doubt Marco's lack of performance was his own fault. He then considers the name Marco said, and frowns.
"Edward?" he says, looking at Marco. He feels unsure about what he's about to say, but he can't let it die in his throat. "He was our captain."
Marco's eyes meet his, and they are surprised. He looks away a moment later, nodding his head sharply.
"He's my age now though," Marco says, and Ace pictures an old man. He is the same who was sat in a chair on deck in his dream – his memory – and he can't help but smile at the thought that Marco and their Oyaji are the same age.
"So you're about 70 then," Ace jokes, and laughter flows from him as Marco bumps his shoulder.
It feels natural, normal.
Past lives or not, Ace wants to be in Marco's life.
They enter the aquarium, and Ace lets Marco drift, following him around the tanks. They pause at the moon jellyfish, circling their tank and filling the dark waters with an eerie glow.
"I didn't mean to upset you this morning," Ace says, letting his eyes fall from the jellies to watch Marco's profile. His features are soft, and he looks younger than the man of Ace's memory. "I needed to know."
"It's okay," Marco says gently. "It's just hard to remember. We all thought you were going to survive."
Ace looks down. He wanders over to their main tank and smiles as their resident sea turtle passes by, looking down at him curiously.
"I don't know if I believe in it all," Ace says when Marco comes to join him. The turtle turns her head to inspect Marco, opening her beak. "But I have these… memories I guess, that keep appearing. It's like they've always been there, and they don't scare me."
Marco presses a finger against the tank side, and the turtle swims past a few times, inspecting his finger.
"I won't understand everything, and it might be too hard for you, but I really like you." Ace feels his cheeks heat up, and he takes a deep breath, smiling at Marco.
He meets Marco's gaze and feels his flush deepen, unused to the intensity in Marco's stare.
"Would you like to have dinner at mine tonight?" Marco says, and his smile melts Ace's knees. Ace can feel the colours of his world shift, lightening softly.
"I'd love that," he says, and he gets Marco's address.
He heads back to his department without lunch and heads out with Jinbe minutes after.
"So he was your soulmate?" Jinbe asks as they queue to pay for their sandwiches. Ace nods.
"And you decided to give him a chance?" Jinbe shakes his head, smiling. "How the hell did you even find each other again?"
Ace tilts his chin, shuffling forward as the queue moves slightly.
"We're soulmates, you just can't tear us apart," Ace jokes, and he rolls his eyes a moment later. Still, there is truth to his words, but he won't let Jinbe know that.
"Nah, I put up posters looking for him. It's what I called in that favour for from marketing." Jinbe makes a sound of realisation and moves to pay for his food.
"I'm going to his for dinner tonight," Ace admits when they're outside, heading back to work.
"Better hope he's not a murderer," Jinbe quips, and Ace stares at him, expression deadpan.
"Yes, because he misses the greys so much he wants to kill me." Ace unwraps his sandwich, eating on the go. He wants to leave early tonight, and so needs to do as much work as he can. "I know him, he'd rather kill himself than me."
The words ring true, and a shiver runs down Ace's spine. He hasn't thought about the time Marco must have spent alone after his death, and it fills him with sadness. He needs to atone for that, and Ace is prepared to show Marco that he is loved, so, so much.
Work passes in a blur, aside from Jinbe's comments on how his soulmate (boyfriend? can Ace call him his boyfriend?) is going to chop him up and have him for dinner. He does make Ace promise to text him tomorrow, and Ace promises he will. It's Friday, and he'd probably have texted Jinbe at some point over the weekend.
It's dark outside when Ace reaches Marco's apartment. He rings the buzzer and is let in, bottle of wine tucked under his arm. He is nervous, but excited too, and can't help his smile while he waits outside Marco's door.
Everything seems to soften and gain a golden tinge as the door opens. Marco welcomes him in, stepping aside carefully. Ace wonders if Marco's afraid to touch him, but he won't press the issue.
Marco is just finishing up dinner, and they eat at a candlelit table. Their conversation sticks to this world, and Ace learns that Marco isn't that different from whom he was before at all. He's sure he isn't that different either.
Despite surface differences, Marco is still his Marco.
"How long did you live?" Ace says, when Marco is piling their plates up. He pauses, hands still, and clears his throat. He hadn't expected the change of topic, Ace knows, but it is something they need to talk about. He needs to know what happened to Marco after he died.
"I stopped counting after a while." Marco sets the plates down, hands linking together and resting on the table. "Your brother became the Pirate King, though."
Ace smiles, memories of Luffy's promise echoing in his mind. He isn't surprised, though he feels sad that he missed it. He is glad Marco was there. Luffy would have liked Marco. Ace resolves to get them to meet in this lifetime soon.
"Of course he did," he says. He grows serious, needing Marco to hear the next words. They cling to his chest, sticking in his throat, and Ace's voice is thick when he does finally get them out. "I'm sorry it took me so long to find you again."
Silence fills the room for a moment, and it breaks with an odd sound. It takes a moment for Ace to realise, but his words set Marco crying, shaking his head when Ace stands in worry. He laughs, looking at Ace for a moment.
"I'm fine," Marco says, covering his eyes with his hands, sniffing heavily. "I just missed you."
Ace's emotions break over him like sea over sand, and he moves around the table swiftly, throwing himself at Marco. He slides onto his lap, legs straddling Marco as he lets him bury his head against his shoulder, sobs wracking his shoulders. Ace wraps his arms around Marco and feels tears springing to his own eyes. They haven't seen each other for so long, and Ace may not know everything from before, but he does know he left Marco for so many years. Ace knows what the greys are like, and he isn't sure he'll be able to cope having his colour ripped from him how Marco had his.
Colour is so much more than just filling in the blanks of the world. It's Ace's reminder that he has someone to love, someone who will love him in return. Some who he has shared a life with before, and someone who he plans to spend this life with. Colours, for Ace, aren't about making the world look beautiful but are about his bond with Marco. He doesn't care if a book is beige or the door is blue. He cares that the colours are there, and that the world brightens whenever he is near Marco.
He feels at peace as Marco holds him. His tears dry, but Ace doesn't move. He closes his eyes and lets Marco's scent wash over him. He is crisp like the ocean breeze, and Ace's entire body tingles. He wants more, wants to feel their bond burn under his skin, and knows that Marco won't object.
"I missed you too," Ace says, sliding his hands up to wipe Marco's cheeks of tears. Marco smiles back, and Ace dips down, kissing Marco's cheeks gently. He kisses the tear tracks away and can feel Marco smiling as he moves lower, pressing their lips together softly.
"Can I stay the night?" Ace asks, and Marco's hands move lower, slipping into the back of Ace's trousers, fingers curling against his skin. It's almost possessive, and Ace likes it. They've been apart for too long, and Ace wants the world to know they have each other. He wants the world to see proof that he can see the world in striking colour, and Ace knows how he can achieve that.
"Yes," Marco gasps as Ace kisses down his jaw, moving down his throat and scraping his teeth against the skin. He bites gently, and he can feel Marco shudder under his kiss. He isn't done though, and he plans to leave marks on Marco's skin.
"I don't want to smash your plates," Ace whispers, and he feels Marco's hands leave his skin. It is his subtle way of saying they should move somewhere more comfortable, and Marco understands.
The lack of contact doesn't last long, for Marco pulls him towards the bedroom, turning on a lamp. They both strip down, wanting to feel every inch of each other's warmth against their own skin, and Ace pauses, eyes fixed on Marco's chest.
"You still have it," he says, running his fingers over the blue mark of the Whitebeard Pirates. It makes Ace's back seem suddenly cold, and he knows he won't feel entirely happy unless he marks himself proudly too.
"I didn't feel myself without it," Marco says, pushing Ace back on the bed. He rubs against Ace, and Ace shudders. He's missed how well he fits against Marco, and how Marco knows him so well. He's missed Marco's teasing grin, and warming touches. He's missed Marco's voice, his smile, his smell, and he hasn't even realised he's been missing it until a few weeks ago.
It's strange how he's forgotten an entire lifetime until now, and Ace wonders how he ever managed it.
They shift until Ace is back in Marco's lap, Marco's back against the headboard. Ace lets his hands slid over Marco's shoulders, grinding against his belly. He feels comforted, as if he's been dying to do this for a long, long time. They may only have known each other a couple of weeks in this world, but their connection spans eons.
They waste no time, and Ace loops his arms around Marco's shoulders, kissing him slowly as he feels a slick finger press into him.
"When did you get the lube?" Ace asks, wrinkling his nose a little at the sensation. It's uncomfortable, and the room darkens for a moment, colours adjusting to Ace's discomfort.
"When I turned the lamp on," Marco replies, kissing Ace's arm gently. "Relax."
Ace does, pressing his lips against Marco's shoulder as he rocks his hips down. He shudders, teeth dragging across Marco's shoulder, and he places a hand on Marco's stomach, balancing himself. He's waited so long for this, to be reunited with Marco, and he almost cannot believe they are there, together.
"Slowly," Ace whispers. Marco is reaching to his side, and Ace watches him unroll a condom. "Go slowly."
Marco obliges, entering Ace slowly. Ace closes his eyes, rolling his head back as he sinks down. Golden flecks dance behind his eyelids, and when Ace opens them, Marco looks ethereal, skin almost glowing. It makes Ace miss their flames, and he lets his arms fall from Marco's back, smoothing over warm skin as he moves upwards, hands curling over the crook of Marco's elbows.
Marco's hands are curled around Ace's waist, and he guides him gently. He keeps his legs still, and Ace has full control, rising and falling like gentle waves. He can see the sheen of sweat on Marco's brow, and Ace rolls his hips, pulling up slightly.
He grins as Marco's breath hitches, and he moves again, warmth curling in his belly. He feels it spread through him, from himself and into Marco, and Ace tingles with the feeling.
Ace dips his head, kissing Marco's jugular as he arches a little. A hand wraps around Ace's cock, and he bites Marco a little harder than he'd intended. He pulls back in worry, but Marco is already watching him, pupils blown wide, pleasure oozing from every pore. Ace can feel it in the sultry colours that surround them, and he lowers his teeth again, grazing at Marco's skin as he rolls his hips.
Marco moves steadily, and Ace can feel himself losing his control. Golden sparks begin to fill his vision, and he lets out a moan, gasping as Marco's hand jerks. He lets his tongue lap at Marco's collar, moving across the bone until he reaches his shoulder. He bites down hard, as he comes, and Marco shudders when Ace's tongue runs over the indents in his skin. Ace didn't break the skin, but he leaves it flushed, a sign that he has Marco, and Marco has him.
They stay wrapped together for a while, cooling off. Ace doesn't want sleep, even when he moves off to clean them up, and Marco makes it clear he doesn't want to sleep either.
"You'll have to meet Thatch," Marco says, turning off the lamp as Ace settles beside him in bed. "And Edward."
Ace grins. Marco kisses his cheek gently, before resting his head on Ace's chest, lying on his stomach.
"You have to meet my family then." He smiles at the image of Marco meeting his father, and thinks they'll hit it off. "I think my dad remembers, but I'm not sure about anyone else."
Marco hums, Ace's chest vibrating with the sound.
"I'd like that," he says, and Ace can see the mischief in his eyes as he moves up to press their lips together, tongue sliding against Ace's. Ace wraps his legs around Marco, trapping him close and breathing in deeply, letting his colours fade in the darkness as Marco holds him.
Ace wakes first the following morning. He is confused at first, but then he sees Marco before him, and he smiles. His grin widens at the mark on Marco's shoulder. Marco will be annoyed by it later, and Ace will be smug, knowing that part of him is kept on Marco's skin.
He turns, shuffling back into Marco's hold and wrapping one of Marco's arms over his waist. From where they are, Ace can see the ocean from Marco's bed (their bed, because Marco has the nicer apartment, and Ace would do anything to see the sea every morning like this), and he watches the waves.
From this distance, the sea looks endless and blue. Ace feels at peace, and he closes his eyes with a smile as Marco kisses the back of his shoulder.
"Morning," he says, still sleepy.
"Let's go back to sleep," Ace whispers, almost a dare. He feels Marco's arm tighten around him, and he joins their hands, fingers intertwining.
"Best idea you've had today," Marco says, and Ace kicks his ankle.
Later, over breakfast, Ace will tell Marco that he had a dream, different from any he'd had before. In it, they are wrinkled and their hair is snow white, and they are happy, together with a dog. He'll tell Marco that he loves him too, and that he'll always find him, no matter how many times they're pulled apart and how many worlds they have to go through.
For now, Ace lets himself relax. He turns in Marco's hold and stretches his legs out, looking at Marco through narrowed eyes. He doesn't want to wake, and it's clear Marco doesn't either.
"What are you looking at?" Marco says, opening one eye. He smiles and tucks his leg between Ace's. The colours in the room fade away, until Marco is brighter than any of them. His skin is warm, his eyes bright, and Ace shuffles forward to kiss him.
"Nothing," Ace replies, entire body tingling.
It isn't that his life lacked Marco before, but having him here now, Ace cannot imagine ever letting him go. He sighs happily, closing his eyes with a smile. He isn't sure he wants to remember everything from his past life, but if he does, then he has someone to talk to, someone who knows more sadness than Ace can ever imagine.
"Remind me I need to text Jinbe and tell him you didn't murder me," Ace mutters, turning his head into the pillow. He feels Marco jolt in surprise and grins to himself.
"He thought you were going to chop me up and eat me," Ace elaborates, and Marco rolls onto his back, rubbing his eyes. His leg slides free of Ace's, and as soon as he's gone, Ace misses the contact.
"He's working today, actually," Ace says, abandoning his pillow to rest his head against Marco's shoulder. There's a lot of bed behind him, but Ace isn't interested in stretching out. All he wants is Marco.
"Do you want to go on a museum date then?" Marco asks, wrapping his arm around Ace. He tucks the covers around them, and Ace nods.
"We have a pirate section," Ace whispers, resting his hand on Marco's belly, fingers dancing over his rib bones. "We can laugh at the inaccuracies together."
Marco flinches as Ace's fingers tickle him, and Ace grins. He still has the same ticklish spots, at the base of his ribs.
"Stop it," Marco says, and Ace relents.
They fall into silence, and Ace lets himself drift into a doze. He can feel Marco's chest rising and falling, and he fades away, the room shifting, changing, until Ace knows they are far from where they are now.
Ace can feel the ocean under him, the Moby Dick swaying on the waves. Marco is asleep, much like he is in their current world, and Ace lets the ocean lull him to comforting darkness.
Whether he is in an ancient world of pirates and odd powers, or in a world where they are free, Ace knows he'll be happy. He has Marco, and he is loved so very much.
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Reviews are always appreciated, thank you so much for reading!