Hey guys,
Umm...surprise? THANK YOU for the reviews, for the story alerts and favourites. They were wonderful.
I wasn't going to upload this today or any day within this week (heck, I wasn't going to write a chapter for any story for a good few weeks), but a lot has been happening this week and I just needed to write to make myself feel better. Honestly, I didn't really bring the plot forward but this is something, at least? Since I don't really have any plot bunnies right now.
I hope it's okay and not too much of a disappointment. It really is just a drawn-out chapter of something and nothing. :/
Oh, and lyrics are from 'Shadows' by Red. Great inspiration. :D
"Bleeding through the Seams" won't be updated as of yet. Still wallowing in writer's block. And I can't really write something that doesn't move the plot forward for that story.
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or any of its characters.
Caught in the darkness, I go blind
But can you help me find my way out?
Nobody hears me, I suffer the silence
Can you tell me it's over now?
- Shadows, by Red
He forced himself to take in a ragged breath. And another, and another.
A stab of blinding pain shot through him again, and he fought to keep from releasing a cry. Trembles rocked through his lean frame, with occasional spasms jolting his worn body into an involuntary arch. Beads of sweat fell into his wild grey eyes.
There was a strange humming above him and oh, did he hate it. It sounded wrong. It sang of fields of grass, of deep blue skies and calming seas. It told of great adventures, of a soft human touch, of a promise of a better tomorrow, of a warm and gentle smile.
It was a string of soft alliteration cast into a soothing melody that rose and fell in pitch like the waves on a windy day.
It was wrong, Ace decided, as he lay panting on the operating table, rivulets of red droplets streaming down his skin, his hair brushed aside in favour of a strap that pinned his head down; an action taken when he had banged his head too hard in reflex to a particular sharp stab. It was wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrongwrongwrongwrongwrong…
Such a beautiful song didn't belong here. Not when he was being torn apart like a live specimen. Not when he was surrounded by surgical instruments of death. Especially not when a crazed psycho was leaning over him with that twisted, twisted smile and cold, cold eyes.
It was almost funny, the teen thought, that someone could have such white teeth. Weren't bad guys supposed to look hideous in every way? Wasn't that how horror stories were supposed to go?
He was in a horror story now.
A blade hovered before his eyes.
Dread filled him. It always started that way. An instrument shown off to him before being made…intimate to him in every way and form.
Like, like a man's best friend. My dagger. My favourite little dagger. All alone and gone, gone, gone.
As the silver disappeared from his sight, Ace wondered then if he was going crazy too.
Please don't let me fall forever.
Can you tell me it's over now?
"What happened to 'clear planning to get everyone in and out safely without causing a scene'?" Vista asked from beside Izo.
The kimono-clad pirate shoved the door open, immediately heading to the deck, and then the island to find that piece of scum who dared laid a finger on his family. Ace may not yet officially be one of them in name yet, but he was family to Izo. He was family the moment Pops decided to call him his son.
It didn't matter whether Ace liked it or not, but he was Izo's little brother. And he had allowed his youngest brother be taken right under his fucking nose.
"Izo!" A hand grabbed his arm and pulled him back roughly. Furious eyes met a pair frustrated black eyes. "We don't have a plan!" Vista urged him to reconsider. "We don't even know if he was kidnapped or if he-"
Izo cut him off. "Or if he ran away?" he snapped. He narrowed his eyes into slits. Annoyance at being hindered rippled through him, lending him a dark aura when coupled with his growing anger. Words coated with an underlying sense of danger, he hissed, taking a step closer to his brother. "And what if he was taken, Vista? What then? Do you have any idea what that bastard could be putting our brother through?"
If any was surprised at the pirate's verbal acknowledgement of Ace's status on the ship, neither showed it. Vista eyed him for a long second. His face was grim.
"We need a plan. We don't even know where they are."
Izo closed his eyes, as if begging for patience. "It's a small island. We have hundreds of our brothers on standby. We'd run into them one way or another."
"And end up with someone injured, or worse, dead."
"Clockwork isn't that big a deal. We can take him. I can take him."
"No one ever came out alive, Izo! Even our intelligence can't get an accurate measurement of his strength!"
"All the more reason for me to go!"
"Ace needs a rescue, not a stupid suicide plan!"
Izo almost felt himself growl. He felt his patience thin. There was no time for this. Every second and…every second and Ace could be- Suppressing the guilt that brushed at his chest, he ploughed on, staring straight at his brother's eyes. "Vista," he began, voice cold. "If it was any other brother of ours, would you still be stopping me?"
Vista looked shocked. "O-of course I would!" A furious glint entered his eyes. "What the hell are you saying? I care about him too."
The other pirate didn't falter. "Then you better be the one to explain to him, for every other second of torture he has to go through because you stopped me, why he had to feel that pain," he said harshly. "You heard what our intelligence said. Every man that bastard caught was left alive."
A slight breeze wafted through the air. A soft chill fell over them as Izo paused, staring almost searchingly at Vista's still form.
"And every single one went insane."
I'm holding on to you
I'll never let go
No one was going to come for him.
Ace knew this the moment his world went black, before he woke up in this new version of hell. Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, huh, Ace? His mind seemed to mentally giggle at the thought. He gained a little brother only after almost losing him before he became a brother, then went through the entirely too painful process of losing a different blonde brother, which kickstarted his self-enlightening journey to be the only older brother to a rubber idiot. His mind giggled again. Was he even making sense?
He vaguely remembered going a little tipsy in his head when that psycho…friend? Was the man with the weird brown hair his friend? But friends wouldn't stab a needle into his body…right? Ace remembered a muddy liquid being injected into his bloodstream. He recalled a faint anger dissolving into panicked struggles as he tried to throw the needle off. Remembered chuckling when suddenly everything went strange and blurry around him, almost leaning into a touch when someone stroked his hair back. He wasn't dead…was he? Somehow things didn't make sense anymore. It was almost funny.
…until the pain came.
It came in shots of blue and red. Every touch became a fire that licked at his skin (he had forgotten how fire felt like when it was his enemy; he felt almost…betrayed when it hurt), and each time a metal blade sliced at his flesh, it felt akin to being torn to shreds with claws cutting him out from the inside. His vision would blur as dark spots span in the air.
If the fire-user had any breath in him, he'd scream. He would scream and writhe and pull at his binds. He would do anything, anything to escape whatever demon was inside him that slithered under his skin and poked at his bones- that tore him apart, killing him slowly, dragging him through scalding, fiery bonfire.
Ace didn't want to die like this. He made a promise.
Luffy would cry if he died.
…if he ever found out. Maybe Portgas D. Ace would only be a memory, one that would die when his brother did too. He'd never be remembered. Never known. Never mourned.
Desperation and hopelessness reared its ugly head in his stomach. He heaved. Warm, viscous liquid fell on his cheeks and jaw.
Yes, this was a new version of hell.
I need you with me as I enter the shadows
Whitebeard peered at his frustrated son. "There is no plan, son."
Marco looked up at him and, for the first time in a long while, Whitebeard watched as the younger struggled to rein in the discouragement he no doubt felt. "I can't allow you to head off without a plan," he finally said when Marco didn't respond. "I understand how you feel, Marco. You know I cannot risk the lives of more of my children when one is already in danger."
His first commander's eyebrow twitched, the only indicator that he heard. The brisk wind blew through his hair which had borne the brunt of many jokes on the ship. A tense silence hung in the air, weaving harshly between the two pirates who shared a relationship not unlike that of a father and son. Moments like these were rare and far between, especially as Marco gained more experience as the first commander. As time went by, many things hardly seemed disturbing enough for Marco to seek help from the Yonkou. Whitebeard felt a little proud at the fact. All his children were growing into fine men and women.
As for Ace…That child was a different story altogether. He was dreadfully young, even for a pirate. To be a Captain at such a tender age, to hold the heavy burden of responsibility for an entire crew, and to lose everything at one go for a shot of pride… The Yonkou wondered if perhaps he had made the wrong decision to make Ace his son. Then again, he doubted the brat would have survived long in the New World without someone to watch his back. Not every pirate would give him chance after chance to attack them on their very own ship.
And now, the child was gone. Kidnapped. Taken from his watchful eyes. The beginnings of anger stirred in the Yonkou. There would be revenge. Blood would be spilt.
Marco broke the silence. "It's my fault, Oyaji." Whitebeard looked down to see his son stare absent-mindedly at his hands.
He was careful to keep his voice neutral. "What do you mean, son?"
"It's my fault that Ace was taken." The blonde's fingers curled tightly into fists.
The elder pirate leaned forward. Lines of worry, although almost unnoticeable, creased his forehead at the hint of self-loathing he detected underlying his son's words. "Ace being taken was an accident, Marco," he said gently, his thunderous voice rumbling lightly. "It was by no means your fault."
A pair of cerulean eyes met his then, almost pleading and desperate, yet strongly layered with a fierce sense of duty. "I made a deal with him." He paused for a moment, but the ensuing silence prompted him to continue. "He said he owed us for saving his crewmate, Aki, and insisted that he was in our debt. So I," – he closed his eyes – "I told him to be nice to the family."
"I fail to see how that makes Ace's kidnapping your fault."
Marco began to pace. He raised his hands almost wildly, then just as suddenly dropped them back to his side, limp. "If I hadn't," he said slowly. "He wouldn't have gone to town with the others. He would have told us to drop dead and go to hell with it." A note of guilt entered his voice. "He wouldn't have been made available to that bastard. He'd still be here if it wasn't for that stupid deal." By the end, Marco was holding his head in his hands. "We practically handed him over on a golden platter."
Without thinking about it, Whitebeard touched his first commander's shoulder gently. He waited until Marco raised his gaze to meet his. "No one can predict the future, son. As pirates, we live by the day, and hope to see a tomorrow. We live in freedom and in danger. That is why we watch each other's backs. Why we protect each other. So all of us may live to see a tomorrow together." Marco's eyes widened fractionally. "If we were afraid to live, to make choices lest they come back to haunt us, what sort of pirates would we be?" At this, the elder pirate's eyes twinkled lightly. "I am proud that you extended your hand to Ace despite his hostility. You make a fine older brother, Marco."
Marco gaped at him in shock. "O-oyaji…"
Just then, the door slammed open. Vista ran in, his moustache drooping. "Oyaji," he said grimly. "Thatch disappeared."
There's a hate inside me like some kind of master
I tried to save you but I can't find the answer
It was funny the things he thought about during his moments of clarity. Ace would have thought he'd forcefully bring up memories of Luffy and Sabo, of Dadan and the rest of his stupid extended 'family', if he could call them that, of Makino and the Mayor, of a forest and a treehouse. And that violent Grandpa of his. When he imagined his end, he thought he'd be frantically memorising their faces, etching them into the deepest confines of his mind so at least he wouldn't die alone.
If he had to die before he was ready to, at least he'd die with the knowledge that Gol D. Roger's son, Portgas D. Ace (or more aptly Gol D. Ace), would pass on with memories of people who would mourn him. Who would shed tears and weep for the loss. Maybe they would look at his favourite spot on the hilltop on Dawn Island, allowing nostalgia to sweep under their skin as they think quietly, 'Ace used to sit there. Right at this spot. His feet would be…here, his legs pulled up against his chest. That's how Ace sat here, staring at the sky and the stars.' It wasn't that the teen wanted anyone, especially Luffy, to go through the grief his death might bring on. Luffy, Grandpa…Dadan, they would be strong enough to move on. He was just another brat, after all. But, to be mourned was proof that he had lived.
A stinging wetness pricked his eyes. Despite the cursed blood that ran through his veins, even though he was weak, Ace wanted to fucking live. A wave of yearning swept through him, almost overwhelming in its intensity as it drove his desperation to break free to greater heights. He just wanted to live.
"Oh, struggling again, aren't we?" Verdant green eyes entered his field of vision. The two orbs seemed to cackle crazily at him. "I think it's about time for another injection." The psycho left his line of sight, his light footsteps the only indicator that he was even in the room.
Ace pulled at his bindings, thrashing madly. "Don't you dare put that in me!" he snarled. He tugged at his arms but they only sagged further against the cool metal table whenever more skin brushed against the sea stone. It was futile. Despair slid into him.
"Oh, don't you worry, my sweet," Clockwork cooed from somewhere behind him. "I have something for you before we enter the next phase."
The despair quickly changed to cold fear. Whatever that something was, he was sure as hell he wouldn't like it. "And what would that be?" Ace hissed anyway through gritted teeth, trying his damnest to keep up the bravado.
As if in answer, four similar looking daggers were left to hover above his eyes. He flinched reflexively. The hilts were designed in intricate patterns of dancing flames woven into black. The blades were razor sharp with a sudden jagged drop near the base of the handle, then curved dangerously before tapering off to a gruesome edge. They were beautiful. If they weren't about to cause him significant pain.
Ace felt a whimper build up his throat. There were four fucking blades. He fought to keep his cool. "You're one sick bastard, Clockwork."
Clockwork grinned as he pulled the daggers away, the metal tinkling as they dangled haphazardly from his grip. "Oh, you're not the first to tell me that, my little sweet." He brought one of the daggers dangerously close to his eyes, as if to inspect it, and left the rest of the daggers on a table the fire-user couldn't see. "Do you know what makes a man go crazy, Ace?"
Ace tried to force a smirk. "I don't know, Clockwork. Why don't you tell me?"
Clockwork narrowed his eyes. He leaned in to whisper in his ears. His breath ghosted again the teen's skin and the younger let out an involuntary shiver. "A man goes crazy, Ace," he murmured, "when he loses all his senses. And do you know what makes a man lose all sense of his being?" He didn't wait for an answer. "When beautiful, beautiful pain blocks out everything." Clockwork jerked off from his position from Ace's ear. He began to frantically sharpen the dagger as he paced the small room in abrupt movements.
"A man, who prides himself on accomplishments and glory, who would rather bow to the earth than to his enemies. A man, who would betray his own blood for power and strength, his loyalties for money and status, for every worldly gain." Ace watched in almost sick fascination as the pirate hunter paused in his verbal rant and tilted his head to stare at Ace with that hollow, empty look. The fire-user shivered, feeling violated just from the way the psycho looked him over. The hollow look morphed into hunger. Clockwork seemed to glide closer. His trailed a rough palm over the plan of Ace's stomach to his upper chest to the juncture between his neck and shoulder blades, seeming to delight from the shudders that wrecked the younger's frame.
"But I," he went on, as if Ace wasn't pressing himself against the operating table in a vain effort to escape his touch. "I will save this world."
Confused grey orbs met maniacal forest green. "I will purge this world of greedy men. Pull them off their thrones they have cast themselves upon and drag them to heel. I will break them until they beg for mercy."
Ace gaped at him. "And I'm one of these men?" he spluttered. He was a pirate, yes. But he wasn't evil…was he?
For a moment, a look of pity flashed across the hunter's features, but was gone so fast the teen wondered if it had only been his imagination. "No, you're not," Clockwork said quietly. "Yet." He turned away. "You see, my young one," the hunter went on. "You were rising so fast. Offered to be a Shichibukai, making a name for yourself. One day, you would be just like those filthy men who only want power. It is a pity, for someone as young as you, to end like this. But I would have to come for you one day or another. At least, know that you have made yourself useful before your time is up, my sweet."
Ace felt the trickles of anxiety build up. "Useful?" he repeated nervously. He mentally kicked himself for the inflection.
"Yes, useful. I will study how to break you," Clockwork said casually. "So I may break those filth quickly and spare myself the pain from being in close proximity with them for too long. But first, I will save you."
The dagger was brought down with startling accuracy. A blinding pain seared through his right wrist and a scream tore through his throat. Loud gasps followed after. His body arched. What the fuck was that? The stupid humming Ace hated sang somewhere above him. Wild grey eyes rolled to see a dagger embedded in- in his fucking wrist.
"Did that not hurt enough?"
Oh fuck. A hand shot out to grab his right hand and pulled. Ace released another pained cry. "You- oh, the cursed-" he trailed off into unintelligible curses, struggling not to jostle his injured wrist when another strike of searing pain shot through his other hand. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.
His body trembled. Cold sweat fell into his eyes. Ace could hear his ragged breaths, shallow and almost breathy, as his heart pounded loudly in his chest. His muscles strained and the teen swore no human could stay conscious through this. The stupid psycho probably did something to him. He screamed again when his arm was pulled, the agony sending heated sparks through his blood like frazzled wire. His body started to spasm, jerking sporadically, probably in reaction to some stupid substance that bastard put in him.
"Two more to go."
The same wild grey eyes widened.
Ace wondered if he was weak if he gave up then. After all, he didn't deserve to be saved. In the end, it wasn't Luffy's or Sabo's or anyone from Dawn Island that he was thinking of as he was tortured to break. It was a selected group of people who had obnoxiously called them his family.
I'm holding on to you
I'll never let go
I need you here with me as I enter the shadows
Somewhere across the compound, a figure slipped into the seemingly abandoned facility.
The reason Clockwork hadn't come for Ace before this was because he hadn't known Ace was still alive. In this story, Ace and his crew practically disappeared off the face of the world, not even entering the papers anymore, as their captain fought for their freedom on the Moby Dick. Many thought he had fallen from his battle with Whitebeard. I was a little worried that I had Whitebeard OOC though.
Also, would you prefer more...graphic depictions of Ace's dilemma or not? I held back a little here.
Leave a review if you're excited for the next chapter! And please feel free to suggest any scenes that maybe you'd like to see, or criticism etc. :) They inspire me a lot, honestly.