Chapter 4

Ace stared ahead, determined to stay silent and ignore the man next to him. Marco had been the one to bring him here against his will, after all, and if he wanted something he would have to say it. Ace wasn't going to make things easy for him.

The man didn't take long to speak.

"So, what's your problem?" Ace looked at him, feeling a mix between annoyance and confusion, and didn't answer. "I thought we had established that you wouldn't try anything stupid at night, but here you are now. And then there's your insistence on getting your ass kicked every day."

"I said I'm going to kill that old man." Ace said, refusing to think Marco was the only one he was trying to convince with those words. He didn't care how many times the old man had beat him without even stopping what he was doing. Ace had to beat him, that had been his purpose even before he entered the New World. To defeat the strongest man in the world and prove he wasn't like his useless father. He wasn't like him, and so he shouldn't have to carry the man's sins.

"For what reason?" Marco asked again. Ace kept his mouth shut, resolute not to tell him anything. The man looked at him, obviously waiting for an answer and, when it didn't come, spoke again. "It's more common than you'd think for strong pirates to try to take on Pops once they arrive at the New World, but they always give up after one or two beatings. Yet, here you are, how knows how many attempts later and still trying."

Marco's voice had been calm as he spoke, slightly curious at some point, but Ace was surprised when there was nothing in it indicating he found amusing his patheric failures. He drew his knees up and draped his arms around his legs, resting his chin on the bent knees.

"I'm not going to tell you, alright? It's got nothing to do with you."

"Really?" Now the man sounded slightly incredulous. "You're trying to kill my father but it's got nothing to do with me?"

Ace glared ahead, annoyed at hearing the way this stupid crew addressed this man.

"He's your biological father or something?" He snapped, hoping the other pirate would shut up. He didn't.

"No."

"Then why do you call him that? It's annoying." Ace practically growled, having grown tired of the absurd farce these pirates insisted on put up acting as a family.

"Because he calls us sons."

"That's stupid." Ace muttered.

"Why? Do you think a family can only be related by blood?"

Ace felt a pang in his heart, the wound that never had completely healed reminding him of it when his brain conjured an involuntary memory of Sabo, the image of his brother's grinning face with his missing tooth and shining eyes full of hope for a better future as bright as it had ever been in Ace's mind.

"No, but you guys all act as a huge family when you're so many people it's impossible you know all of the others well enough for that."

Marco didn't answer immediately and for a moment Ace thought he had managed to shut the irritating man up. He should have known better.

"You're not a very trusting person, are you?"

"Why should I be?" He snapped. That should have been obvious since day one, but here was this idiot just stating it. Ace didn't trust people, so what? It wasn't as if the world had given him much reason to trust. He ignored the small part of his brain saying that the pirates not only hadn't treated him bad but could have killed him at any moment.

"Is that why you refuse to join the crew?"

"No, I just don't want to join you, is it so hard to understand?! And what's with you lot and wanting me to join your crew, anyway? You don't know me. Hell, I'm trying to kill your captain, shouldn't you want me out of here?"

To his utter surprise and disconcert, Marco laughed. Here he was, exposing all his reasons as to why it was a bad idea to keep him on board, hoping he could finally make them see it would be best to just let him go and here was this guy just laughing at them.

Ace held back the urge to raise his head and glare, aware that Marco seemed immune the looks and reluctantly admitting his head might hurt due to his last trip through the air.

"Pops likes you, that's why he offered. And we like you too, that's why we insist." The man said once he had got his laughter under control.

This time Ace did raise his head and turn it to look at Marco, blinking at the man's words and making sure he had heard him correctly. The man was smiling, too, a lazy gesture that went well with his half-lidded eyes.

"Do you guys accept anyone in your crew or what?" Ace just couldn't wrap his mind around the concept. There people actually wanted in the crew someone who basically attacked them, physical or verbally, every time they approached him. Marco nodded. "Why?"

"Because we're all outcasts. The world hates us, we would be hypocrites to turn our backs on anyone who is in the same situation."

Those words, spoken in a calm voice full of conviction, snapped Ace out of whatever talkative mood had possessed him, a mood he would blame on the hit he had taken to the head.

"I doubt you'd accept anyone."

He never got to hear Marco's answer, as then someone called for the commander from below. It was his replacement, Marco's watch was over. Ace was disconcerted when, after standing up, the man held a hand out to him.

"Come, let's go to bed."

"Huh?" Ace uttered coherently, confused.

Marco's eyebrows went higher into his forehead.

"You don't expect me to leave you alone after that stunt earlier, right? Come or I'll drag you."

Remembering how Marco had really dragged him to the cabin those three days Ace had to sleep with him, he reluctantly took the offered hand.

Ace had already resolved not to fall into more attempts at conversation from the man.


When Ace woke up, he snuggled into the mattress, his body almost singing at the wonder of finally sleeping on a bed instead of the hard floorboards.

He froze as soon as he remembered why he had been sleeping on the floor in the first place and why he was now on a bed. At that same moment he became aware of the arm draped around his waist and, his face heating considerably, he also noticed something warm against his ass. Trying to get out of the bed as fast and silently as possible, he moved to find the best way to push the arm off of him and it was then he became aware of a third thing. The man behind him wasn't the only one with something hard.

Fuck.

Now he really had to get out of there. And fast.

The arm around him moved, luckily just holding him tighter and not going down, and Ace realized the man's breathing wasn't even enough for sleep.

"You awake?" He asked, and didn't wait for an answer. "Let me go, I want to go."

"Why?" Marco asked, not moving. He didn't sound drowsy, which meant he probably had been awake for a while. Ace mentally shot the part of his brain that wondered what had the man been doing until Ace woke up.

"It's morning, I haven't tried to kill anyone. Your job's done, now let go." He ground out through gritted teeth. His erection should have softened with the situation and his anger, but no, the damn thing was still there, posing a challenge as to how Ace would manage to stand up, put his boots on and leave without the other man noticing.

"Are you sure?" Marco asked, and Ace's eyes opened like saucers when he grabbed him through his pants.

"F-Fuuck…"

"And this doesn't have anything to do with it?" Marco asked against his neck, so close Ace could feel the smirk on the man's lips on his skin. Then the blond kissed his neck. Ace bit his lower lip, forcing himself to stay in control when that hand moved again. "I could help you, you know."

"No." Ace answered, too flustered to congratulate himself for how steady his voice came out.

"Pity." And, just like that, Marco let go of him.

It took a couple of confused moments for Ace to comprehend the man had just agreed to his request without complaint. He hadn't insisted, hadn't tried to convince him by arousing him further. He had just let go of him. Ace hadn't been expecting that.

The younger pirate stood up from the bed, movements slightly awkward, and went to retrieve his boots, that he had kicked out the night before because, as he had learnt the first night he spent in this cabin, sleeping on a bed with boots on wasn't worth it just to show one's annoyance with the situation.

Once he had them, he sat on the floor to put them on.

"Ace."

"Yeah?" He asked, not turning away from his task.

"If you change your mind, come find me."

The boy turned so fast that he almost hurt his neck. Marco was now sitting on the bed and looking at him. The man had taken his shirt off the night before and, sitting there with the sheet fallen around his waist, giving the impression that the man was completely naked beneath it, Ace would have really liked to go back to the bed and said he had changed his mind. But he didn't, because Marco wasn't a one night stand he wouldn't see ever again, he was a man that, for now, Ace was forced to live with.

So, instead, he stood up trying to appear indifferent to both the man and his obvious arousal and said:

"I won't need it."

He hadn't paid attention to Marco pushing the sheet aside as he answered, but he almost jumped out of his skin when, before he had time to turn to leave, Marco pulled his pants open.

Ace's blush came back with a vengeance at what he saw.

"W-What are you doing?!"

Marco directed a deadpan look his way.

"That you don't want help doesn't mean I'm not going to take care of this."

And Ace most definitely did not flee the room when Marco wrapped his hand around his generous length.


It had been hard but, around noon, Ace had been able to find a secluded place where he hadn't hidden before. After his conversation last night with Marco, Ace had finally admitted to himself that he needed to think.

His plan at first had been easy: kill Whitebeard and then try to get the fuck away from the crew before anyone killed him. If he didn't manage to escape, then go down fighting. It was supposed to be easy, the worst that could have happened was that Whitebeard killed him if Ace failed.

But nothing seemed to be easy with this crew.

He had lost, but instead of killing him, Whitebeard had decided he wanted him as a 'son' and brought him onboard. All of Ace's attempts to kill the man had failed miserably, as he hadn't been able to even injure the man, and the crew, that Ace had expected to be wary of him and to want him out of their ship, had instead accepted him as one of theirs when Ace himself didn't want to be.

That meant he was invited to join into games or parties every time he was spotted, they always tried to help him out of the water when he fell overboard after one of his failed attempts, people greeted him as if he was one more of their crew instead of an enemy and they insisted on healing his wounds. Ace didn't allow it, of course, which usually resulted in two or three commanders holding him down while the doctor or a nurse tended to his numerous injuries.

There were also more subtle things that, though he noticed, Ace had refused to acknowledge before. Like the kitchen door. The pirates must have noticed the disappearing food, especially after Marco came with that basket and Ace decided it would be better to just steal more food and save himself what at the moment he thought was pity, but the door was never closed, nor was there anyone watching the place. It was just open for Ace to take as much food as he wanted.

Ace wasn't sure when exactly it had been, but somewhere between snarled comments and snappy answers he had accepted on a subconscious level that he did like these people. They were friendly, carefree and, though they teased a lot and liked fights, weren't cruel. Oh, Ace was sure they could be fearsome enemies if one of theirs was in danger, but the thing was that they, despite his best efforts, considered Ace one of theirs.

And, as much as he would like to, he couldn't say he really minded.

But that couldn't be.

If it was any other crew, Ace would have considered giving in, apologize for the trouble he had caused and accept the offer to join them. But not this crew, not the Whitebeard Pirates. He couldn't.

And so, Ace spent the rest of the day pondering the best way to get out of the ship.


Ace leaned against the railing of one of the upper deck, looking down at the impressive party going below that promised a lot of hungover and cranky pirates the next morning.

Days ago, had Ace gotten out of his current hideout and stumbled upon a party that seemed to encompass the whole crew, he would have gone back into hiding complaining about stupid pirates, but now he was curious to see what a party on the Moby Dick was like.

Apparently, it entailed more alcohol than Ace had thought was on board, lots of embarrassing games, people passed out and being drawn on or subjected to other pranks they wouldn't appreciate when they woke up and, for some reason, disappearing clothes. That and lots of laughter, of course.

Ace was pulled out of his observations by someone coming to stand next to him, and he turned to see Marco there, two big tankards in hand. He had a soft smirk on his face, and looked far sober than any of the idiots below.

"I'm surprised you're here instead of sulking in some dark corner." The older pirate said as a greeting, and Ace's almost default response, a glare, was triggered. The man was as unaffected by it as always.

"Maybe I'm tired of corners." Ace half-snapped, though he wasn't really angry or annoyed. After thinking over these past months, he had to admit the comment was a more than accurate description of his lifestyle on the Moby Dick.

Marco smiled and offered him one of the tankards. Ace accepted it, prompting the smile to grow slightly, and the man moved to lean on the railing next to him. They stayed in silence, just looking down at the party. Marco chuckled and, following his line of sight, Ace saw a bunch of plastered men who apparently had formed what must be teams and were trying to steal the clothes from one another. Ace had to smile.

"What are you guys celebrating?" Ace finally asked, breaking their silence.

"Haruta's birthday."

Ace had learned that Haruta was one of the commanders, one of the people who volunteered to hold him down for the doctor more often. Ace scanned the area below until he spotted said commander laughing loudly in a group of pirates.

It seemed it was a good birthday.

"When's your birthday?" Marco asked, bringing his attention back to the man.

"Oh, the first of January. Why?"

Marco clicked his tongue, looking annoyed for a moment.

"So it was last month?" Ace nodded and, much to his surprise, the blond man placed a hand on his cheek and leaned to kiss the corner of his lips. Ace froze. "Sorry we didn't celebrate, but I guess you were trying to get Pops' head as a present, mh?"

Ace averted his eyes, for some reason half convinced he had blushed. Yes, he could admit his assassination attempts had gone a little too far, but he refused to be embarrassed by them. It was bad enough that these pirates took them as a source for their jokes.

"How old are you, then?" Marco asked, and Ace was glad he had dropped the other topic.

"Sixteen."

He looked at the man again, surprised, when Marco chuckled, and tilted his head in confusion.

"You know, if I was a decent person I'd be ashamed for wanting to take someone so young into my bed." The pirate explained, grinning.

Ace felt proud that he barely blushed. He might have sexual experience, but that didn't mean he was comfortable talking about sex. It wasn't a topic he was used to, and for some reason he couldn't understand it embarrassed him.

"I've been in your bed already." He pointed out. Marco's grin grew slightly.

"You know what I mean."

Yes, Ace did and, he thought, maybe he could get that one night stand with Marco before leaving the ship. Just to sate his curiosity and recent interest in the man, of course.


After some internal debate, Ace had figured it would be best to catch the man in a good mood, and that's why, when he saw the captain leave the party, he waited around half an hour before slipping away from Marco and heading to the man's room. Opening the door silently and getting in was easy, though, if he had to go by his previous experiences there, the man already know he was there.

Sure enough, when Ace just stood by the door without moving an inch, Whitebeard spoke.

"Well, this is new. Are you trying to glare me to death or something?"

"Tried that already, but it didn't work." The huge man laughed loudly and, when he quieted down, Ace said: "I need to talk to you."

Whitebeard sat up on the bed, apparently picking up on Ace's serious tone of voice as he didn't comment on the oddity of the request.

It was the first time Ace bothered to try to talk to the man, his interactions with him so far consisting of murder attacks and sometimes insults when he failed.

"Listen, I'm sorry about this whole killing you thing, alright? I just thought I could prove something with it, but I was wrong there. Not that I can kill you anyway, but still." He started, speaking faster than he had intended and trying to ignore the fact that he was rambling a little. "I know you want me to join the crew, but I really can't stay. It's got nothing to do with wanting you dead or not, I swear, it's just I really, honestly, can't stay here, so I was wondering if you could just let me stay in whatever island the ship stops next. If it's part of your territory I swear I won't do anything, just go on my way." Ace took a deep breath after saying all that without a pause and waited in the tense silence that followed.

"The reason you think you can't stay is the same why you wanted to kill me?" The captain finally asked.

Ace cursed mentally. He had really hoped, as improbable as it was, that the man would just let him leave without questions. He really didn't want to answer that, worried about the reaction to his words, but he had assumed hours ago he most likely would have to explain.

Sighing, Ace nodded.

"What is it, son?" Whitebeard asked again when Ace hadn't still managed to put the words together.

A pang struck Ace's chest at that word. Son. In some deep level, one he refused to acknowledge since he became old enough to understand why the world would hate him if it became known he existed, Ace had always wondered what it would feel like to be called that by someone whose guts he didn't hate. In that precise moment, that word hurt.

"Don't call me that." He mumbled, apparently loud enough for Whitebeard to hear.

"Why not?"

"You'll regret it when you hear me out." Ace said, shaking his head. Taking a deep breath, he decided to just get it over with. "My full name is Portgas D. Ace, though that was my mother's surname. My birth name was Gol D. Ace."

There, he had said it. Ace knew Whitebeard had been Roger's enemy long before the government decided to change the Pirate King's name for some reason, and had no doubt the man would recognize the name. He looked down at the floorboards, not wanting to see in the man's eyes the scorn and disgust he had seen so many times as a child at the mere mention of the possibility of Roger having a son. Whitebeard had always looked at him fondly, despite Ace's best efforts to not only kill him, but to be as rude and annoying as possible with the man. Now that was over.

For the last few months he had thought he wanted Whitebeard to act like a proper enemy and hate or despise him. Now that it would happen, the idea didn't sit well with him.

Whitebeard laughed. Ace raised his head, completely disconcerted, staring up at him. He wanted to ask what he was laughing about, but the words refused to come out of his mouth. It didn't take long for the man to get his laugher under control and look down at Ace. The boy was taken aback by his expression. The legendary pirate was amused, sure, but there was no scorn or disgust on his face, the same fondness from before still present there.

"So that's why you wanted me dead? To prove you could do something Roger couldn't?" Ace nodded. The man laughed again.

"You're not mad?"

"Roger and I may have been enemies, Ace, but we didn't hate each other. He was a decent guy."

Ace's eyes opened in surprise, Rayleigh's words from back at Sabaody resounding back in his head. 'Maybe you should ask about him to those who knew him instead of forming an opinion based on what people who never met Roger think.'

"But-"

Whitebeard shook his head, cutting him off.

"Even if I did hate Roger, that wouldn't change anything. Everybody is a child of the ocean, it doesn't matter who your parents are. No one would look down on you for it here, but, if you really want to leave, I won't stop you."

"I…" Ace closed his mouth before saying anything, at a loss of words.

"Why don't you give it some thought? There's no hurry, right?"

Ace nodded and turned around, still confused. He muttered a soft 'good night', and felt a strange warmth when he received an answer. Opening the door and closing it behind himself once he was out, he was so deep in thought he didn't realize he wasn't alone in the hallway until he looked up to see in what direction he would search for a place to stay the night.

There, leaning against the wall opposite the door, barely two or three feet to the right, was Marco, arms crossed and a serious expression on his face.

To be continued