Finally, I got the next update. It was just a matter of time, really, even if that's been over two months.


Comfort

He barely fits in there.

Marco presses his back against the cold stone surface, yearning for a warmth that simply isn't there. If he opens his eyes, he can see the side of Ace's equally cold stone grave, and his mind can easily conjure how the boy would tease him for coming to Pops to cry like a little kid.

Marco isn't crying, though he feels like doing so.

He doesn't talk, because this time he doesn't need to get away from the crew for a while because they have exasperated him so much he wants to murder them all. This time he doesn't believe Pops would laugh in that characteristic way of his at Marco's furious ranting, because there is no silly situation to rant about.

Everything is crumbling down and Marco doesn't know what to do, but he doesn't speak because he knows there is no good or even more exasperating advice to be received, there is no bottle of sake to be offered to him in an attempt to calm or relax him. There isn't even one of those hugs he would always before have denied he needed.

Everything Marco has now to draw comfort from is a cold stone tomb he can sit against.

He feels like crying even more.


So, you might have noticed there's no humor genre anymore for this story. That doesn't mean there won't be more humor, just that I'm a sucker for Whitebeard Pirates angst and this was bound to happen.