I am just as unwilling to study as, I believe, during writing of the second drabble. This one is a bit depressing, even I have no idea where this one came from. Of course no beta here.

Rating: M

Warning for character death.

Song of the drabble: While Your Lips Are Still Red by Nightwish

Marco looked at the phone in his partner's hand with hatered. They've been after this bomber for a little more than half a year. The bastard was incredibly cunning - he could make a bomb practically from a pen and a chewing gum, he was impossible to catch and, the worst part, he seemed to be the vigilanty type, meaning the public sympathised with him. Marco hated that psycho to the core. Now, the bastard has taken hostage an entire police station and demanded a meeting with Marco.

Knowing that odds were that he wasn't leaving the station, Marco tried to call his boyfriend but the call went to the voicemail. With a sigh he gave his gun and bulletproof vest to a policeman next to him and headed to the station. With his heart hammering in his chest, the blond entered the station keeping his hands visible to show he was unarmed.

He walked through the hall towards police desks, noting that hostages were huddled in the corner, all handcuffed to each other. In the center of the bullpen, on a desk with his left side to Marco sat the suspect. The blond went cold, noticing the slumped posture and a familiar mop of black hair.

"You know the moment when somebody's lover walks in on their significant other in bed with another person and they say it's not what it looks like?" The culprit lifted his head and to his horror Marco recognised his boyfriend Ace. "This is exactly what it looks like, Marco."

"Wha... How... WHY?!" Marco's hands flew up to grab his hair as he watched his lover put a robber mask on the desk he was sitting on.

"I am tired. I am tired that whatever we do, it's never enough. I'm tired that everyone are just sitting and looking at all the crimes, the corruption, all the criminals walking free because they knew whom to give money to," Ace said, indeed sounding tired. "The last drop was when the man that raped fifteen prepubecent girls walked free because of that corrupted judge."

"How could you? You are a highly decorated soldier, former special ops! You gave so much to this country, why would you turn against it?" Marco slumped against closest wall, completely drained.

"You are right, I gave so much to this country," Ace agreed with a sigh, "but one thing I can't give them is my conscience. The men I killed deserved punishment."

"You call this justice?"

"No, I don't. I don't like that word. My commanding officer called it justice when I blew up the hospital that was treating enemy soldiers. They called it justice when we turned a perfectly peaceful city to ash. They called it justice when we walked in rivers of blood... I don't like that word. I'd much rather say retribution since they got what they deserved. At least this time I didn't hurt any innocent people," Ace said; he sounded absolutely calm, slightly melancholic even.

"Is that your excuse?" Marco spat; to his disdain Ace was telling the truth - not one person without some serious skeleton in their closet died from his explosions.

"I don't make excuses, Marco. I thought you knew me better than this."

"Turns out I don't know you at all! And what is your end game? Did you call me here to blow me up with them?" He pointed at the hostages.

"The only person who will die here today is me, Marco," Ace said with a sad smile. "I want you to kill me."

"Not going to happen! I am not going to let you escape your retribution!"

"If it's not you, then one of the snipers on the rooftops. If not today then by the end of this month. Right here," Ace lightly tapped on his head with that same sad smile, "I have a ticking bomb. Ironic, isn't it?"

"Wha... what do you mean?"

"Half a year ago I was diagnosed with a brain tumour. It's inoperable." Ace shrugged casually. "I have until the end of this month tops. Sorry."

"I... I don't understand..." Marco shook his head violently. This whole situation was like his personal nightmare, he refused to believe any of this was happening.

"What is there to understand? I was put on death row before I started blowing up corrupt judges. I thought I should at least go with a boom," Ace smirked. "I looked death in the eyes too many times to be afraid now. She... she seems more of an old friend than a scary grim reaper now."

Marco's legs refused to hold him and he slid down the wall he was leaning on.

"I just wouldn't want you finding all of this out from anyone else, you wouldn't believe any of it... I know I wouldn't if the positions were reversed." Ace stood up, holding the desk for support. "Heh... this is one of the bad days, I'm not even sure I'll be able to walk on my own..."

Marco watched his boyfriend carefully lean to another desk next to him, take a gun, check it for bullets and slide it to the blond.

"Kill me, Marco. I'd rather it be you than a nameless sniper or the tumour," Ace slowly moved to sit on the floor, his back against the desk.

"I can't kill you, I love you!" Marco pushed the gun away from himself back to his boyfriend. What was Ace thinking, asking him something like that! Even knowing that Ace was the one that killed fifty people during those half a year, Marco was much more likely to take the bullet for him than to let him die.

"I was afraid you'd refuse," Ace reached for the gun on the floor and took it in his hands. "I am sorry for dragging you into this mess... There is no bomb this time, I couldn't stop my hands from shaking long enough to even start on one," Ace chuckled bitterly. "Tell Luffy that I am sorry for being such a lousy big brother. Tell everyone... tell them... thank you for loving me."

"ACE, NO!" Marco screamed, trying to get to him fast enough but all he could do was watch the world stop as his lover put the gun to the underside of his jaw and pulled the trigger.

Told you it was depressing...

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˜Rhe.