Marco liked to think that he was a good older brother.

He went along with the childish antics of his family most of the time (coughThatchandHarutacough), he spoiled other family members rotten (though he always claimed those were in moments of foolishness, everyone else knew that it merely meant he was a softy), and although he claimed to be doing it out of duty, he was the one who always tried to reach out the most to newbies. And even a few minutes ago, he allowed his brain to turn to mush in order to listen to Haruta's "problems".

And now, because he was a good older brother, he was standing awkwardly next to Ace, who had somehow gotten onto the crow's nest without anyone noticing, in order to find out if Ace really hated Haruta or not. This is definitely not necessary. Marco decided, his eye twitching as Ace glared at him. So why was he doing it?

"Are you trying to recruit me, too?" Ace asked coldly, a slight frown tugging on the corners of his lips. "Because honestly, I'm sick of watching you guys pretend to be the good guys."

Marco could feel himself beginning to frown as well. "Pretend?" He echoed with a scowl. "We're not pretending. We really are the good guys. After all, you were the one who attacked us first, right? We're not the ones who initiated, and we're still being nice to you even though you're trying to kill us."

"No one would act the way that you guys are in this situation." Ace snarled. "There's only one person who can still want to reach out to someone after that person tried to kill them, and you're definitely not him."

Marco found this a little curious. Did this mean that Ace had tried to kill someone else, who had tried to reach out to him? Did Ace actually succeed in killing this man, or did the man succeed in reaching out to Ace?

No, now wasn't the time for such thoughts. "Well, that seems a little narrow minded, doesn't it?" Marco retorted. What does Pops see in this guy, anyways? "I mean, just because one person does something doesn't mean others can't do it either."

Ace snorted. "True. But you don't seem to be idiotic enough to do what he does."

Marco spread out his hands. Looks like it's time for a bluff. "I'm 'idiotic' (as you put it) enough to come up here without my weapon of choice, aren't I? And you claim to be an enemy. I'd say that's quite a risk."

For a moment, Ace looked uneasy as a flash of shock fluttered over his features. "I thought that you were a devil fruit user." He answered cautiously. "You know, with you being Whitebeard's right hand man and all."

The corners of his lips twitched up traitorously. "Is that what they're calling me nowadays?" Marco wondered out loud, amused. "No, I'm not Pops' right hand man. He doesn't need one. All he needs is family. I'm just one of his many sons."

A strange emotion seemed to pass over Ace's face, but it passed so quickly that Marco couldn't identify it. "But you are the first division commander." Ace countered. "Wouldn't that say that Whitebeard trusts you enough to put you in charge of so many of his men?"

"Sons." Marco corrected absentmindedly. "Just calling them men makes them sound expendable, and less precious than they truly are. And there's no difference between the first or tenth division, the numbers are just there so we won't mix them up. And it's not just he trusts me—he trusts all of us, equally. It's simply that I've acquired enough power that Pops thinks in times of danger, I can help protect those I'm responsible for. We all have different jobs—the cooks, the nurses, and everyone else. Just because I'm trusted in battle doesn't mean I'm trusted in other things… First Division Commander is merely a title. Nothing more, and nothing less."

Ace looked thoughtful. "A title, eh?" He pondered. "Like chef, or swordsman?"

"Exactly." Marco agreed, feeling a little pleased at the realization that something he said had gotten through to the freckled teen.

"So, if Whitebeard died…" Ace's cold grey eyes met Marco's, "Would you take over as the new captain, or would you draw lots among the commanders?"

Marco frowned. "Well, when Pops dies of old age, we'll probably disband." He answered slowly. "Nobody can replace Pops—not even the Commanders. After all, you can't replace your father with a brother, right?"

Ace's fingers traced the edge of his cowboy hat, casting a dark shadow over his pale face. His lips pressed together and his eyes hardened, as though he were dissatisfied, and he gritted out, "Wrong." Before he leaped off the crow's nest, flames trailing out from after him as he safely landed on the deck, shouts of surprise coming from below.

A brooding thought was beginning to tug at the edge of Marco's consciousness. Wrong? He wondered. What does he mean by that?

It was only later while he was still contemplating Ace's words that he realized that he had forgotten to ask Ace whether or not he hated Haruta. No use asking now. He mentally groaned. After all, Ace probably hates me now even more than Haruta thinks he hates her.

0o0o0o0o0o0

After all, you can't replace your father with a brother, right?

Marco was wrong. Definitely wrong. Ace felt his fingers begin to trace the familiar 'S' tattooed into his arm, not even needing a mirror anymore after long nights of practice after waking up from nightmares without Luffy.

I don't need a father. Ace had decided that a long time ago. All I need are my brothers… No, his brother. He only needed Luffy. Sabo was gone a long time ago. Ace had decided to grow up, to look after Luffy by himself… Why did Sabo die? Ace sometimes wondered. Why didn't I die?

Luffy would have been happier if Sabo had lived, and Ace had died. Nobody needed Ace, after all.

Sabo could be more mature than most adults were at times. Sure, he was loud, annoying at times, and goofy, but there were also times where he was just quiet and… he seemed a little far away, too. When someone got hurt, Sabo was there to help. When Luffy got scared, Sabo comforted him.

Sabo would have been a really great father.

If only he'd grown up. If only he'd fallen in love with a girl, and got married. If only he actually survived to have a kid… But he couldn't. He never would be able to, because Ace was an idiot, pathetic excuse for a brother who couldn't even realize that Sabo had been feeling lonely.

Luffy had wondered. Luffy had thought that Sabo must have missed them. But Ace had told him Sabo was happier as a trapped bird in a cage… Why had Ace told him that? Why was I so stupid?

It hurt to think about Sabo, and the freedom that he had always wanted but would never be able to have. It hurt to think about Luffy, and how he was working so hard for his impossible dream while Ace was already beginning to give up. It hurt the most to think about himself, and what a mess he always made.

I always mess up. I always make the stupidest mistakes. I always make others feel bad.

He couldn't smile anymore.

Ace's breath caught in his throat. You have to be happy enough for two people. He remembered Makino joking. I think that if you're happy, Sabo will be happier too.

He couldn't feel happy.

As a numb feeling washed over his body, Ace thought, Luffy. I want to see him smile.

Crying was a lot easier than smiling.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Soooo… you went to see Ace?" Thatch asked as Marco stumbled into the kitchen, still thoroughly confused by Ace's declaration that somehow he was 'wrong'.

"How'd you guess?" Marco mumbled as he took a seat on a nearby stool.

Thatch smirked. "Lucky guess." He answered in a teasing voice. "Actually, Haruta came and whined about how Ace must've hated her. I told her to tell you, and she said she already did, so I figured you'd go and see whether or not the kid really hated her."

"Wait, so I wasn't good enough at comforting her?" Marco asked, pretending to be wounded. "And she needed you to fix her broken heart when I turned out to be useless?"

The orange haired chef cackled. "Oh, you were just fine." He assured Marco. "It's just that she needed someone who was overdramatic enough to sob with her, not someone to quietly empathize and comfort her like you do."

"I see." Marco rolled his eyes. "So she went to find the biggest drama queen on the ship?"

"Drama king." Thatch corrected Marco. "And yes, yes she did. She also wanted to find the greatest chef in the world for some soothing hot chocolate." Picking up a saucepan, he tipped some into a blue cup and offered it to Marco. "I made some extra, because I figured you would need some too, after talking to him."

Marco raised an eyebrow. "After talking to him?" He prodded. "What's wrong with Ace?"

"Oh, nothing." Thatch hummed distractedly as he poured himself a cup of hot chocolate. "It's just that he's a little hard to wrap your mind around. For someone who likes logic and sense as much as you do, I figured that you might need something to relax you a little. Would you like a marshmallow?"

"Sure." Marco held up his cup as Thatch dumped a cup of marshmallows into his hot chocolate. "He's not exactly hard to wrap your brain around, he's just…" He paused, searching for the right word. "I don't know. Smart, I suppose, but he's not just smart, he's more… curious."

"There's nothing wrong with curiosity, I suppose." Thatch remarked.

"Curiosity killed the cat." Marco noted neutrally as he took a sip of his drink. "This is too sweet."

"But satisfaction brought it back." Thatch countered. "And besides, Haruta likes sweet things."

"And stupidity killed it again." Marco sighed. "Do you have some more milk I could put in here?"

As he pulled out some milk from their walk-in fridge, Thatch tossed Marco a scowl. "Are we still talking about the cat here?" He asked as he poured the milk into Marco's cup and stirred it with a spoon.

"I don't know." Marco frowned into his cup, before taking another sip. "Are we?"

Thatch sighed. "Never mind Ace being hard to understand, you're impossible!" He groaned. "I'm going to find Haruta. When you leave, do you mind tossing the milk back into the fridge for me?"

"Go do it yourself." Marco snorted. "Stop being so lazy."

"Hmph!" Thatch pouted. "You're too lazy to help your dear brother put the milk back in the fridge!"

As Thatch placed the milk back where it belonged, Marco wondered out loud, "Thatch, do you think that a brother could replace a father?"

Thatch seemed to freeze. He stared at Marco in confusion, and finally said slowly, "I think that, in certain circumstances, anything would be possible. So perhaps, for others, a brother could become a father figure for them, but…" Thatch chewed on his lower lip, still looking thoughtful. "For me, not one of my brothers could replace Pops." He stared at Marco. "Not even you."

"But only for you?" Marco prodded curiously.

"I can't speak for the others." Thatch shrugged. "But I'm guessing that they feel the same."

"I see." Marco sighed. "Alright, then." He stood up. We all feel this way, but maybe… maybe Ace feels differently.

He paused. Or maybe Ace is just an idiot.

A/N: I'm sososososo sorry! I know, this was an awful chapter, everyone was OOC, everything was all over the place, I'm horrible… I'll now commit seppuku…