Chapter Ten: Of Choices and Stowaways

The air rippled with uneasy energy. Or perhaps it should be considered heavy. Whatever the tense atmosphere hanging over them was, it pressed down on the Commanders of the Whitebeard Pirates and Bay, driving some to nervous discomfort while others wallowed in varying degrees of guilt and uncertainty. Marco wished he could claim he was above such emotions, but could not deny the slight twist in his chest whenever he thought about why they were here.

Portgas D. Ace got what he wanted. He was away from the ship, and them. The logical part of Marco thought that should be the end of it and they should let the kid exit their lives but desires driven by his heart or maybe just his urge to finish things could not simply let him go. In the end, it was not his decision to make. Thus the reason for this meeting, with a solemn Whitebeard at its head. Marco was not the only one to glance at their father every few seconds, allowing themselves brief glimpses to attempt to piece together what unshared thoughts lay hidden behind his distant gaze.

"You are certain he's left?" the Yonko asked.

"Yes, Oyaji." Marco confirmed. "Ace isn't on the ship and one of the smaller vessels is missing. He's gone."

"I don't understand!" Thatch blurted before Whitebeard could respond. "Why would he leave now?"

"He had a meltdown and knows all of us know about it." Izo pointed out levelly. "That may have encouraged him to run."

"But we were going to help him." Thatch said lowly. Marco winced at the raw hurt in his voice. "We were supposed to guide Ace and let him know he's welc—"

The chef's jaw snapped shut and he ducked his head, staring intently at his clenched hands. The Phoenix could not begin to guess what he had intended to say, but the fact that Thatch felt he should not finish the thought in present company unsettled Marco. The Phoenix's gaze drifted from brother to brother, taking in their varying expressions. Some looked concerned, others neutral… and others looked bored, as if they did not understand why they were here.

"It's not our job to fix the brat." Haruta pointed out what some had to be thinking. "We offered him a place in our family and he rejected it and ran off. He's no longer our problem."

"So we're just supposed to move on and forget him, just like that?" Thatch asked, switching from morose to incensed in an instant.

"Yes." Haruta said bluntly. "What do you want to do? Chase down a guy who wants nothing to do with us? We should just let him go. We aren't his babysitters."

"I think making sure the kid doesn't die on the ocean somewhere should be sorted under 'being a decent human being' not 'babysitting'." Thatch snarled.

"And I say it again: He isn't our responsibility, or our family." Haruta snapped back.

It was disconcerting to see the normally jovial partners-in-crime glower at each other. Marco decided enough was enough and slammed his hands onto the table, making both brothers jump.

"Stop it, both of you." He said sternly. "Arguing like children will get us nowhere, yoi."

Two glares transferred to the Phoenix, one tinged with worry while the other held pure rage.

"Both sides have a point though." Izo interjected before Haruta or Thatch unwisely chose to yell at the First Division Commander. "Ace is not one of us. However, he did become our responsibility when we attempted to recruit him into our family. If he had chosen to leave us when we were somewhere relatively safe, I'd let it go, but we are in the middle of the ocean." Impartial eyes locked with Haruta's. "Would you not regret it if we read the newspaper and found out he died?"

Haruta broke eye contact first.

"That's what I'm trying to say." Thatch said. "I can't sit around and wait for a newspaper to tell us if he's alive or not. I say we just get him to land. We're not trying to bring him back. We'll just go to make sure he survives."

To many, it may seem like Thatch was telling the whole truth, that he did indeed want to pursue Ace and help him simply out of the goodness of his heart. Well, the chef certainly did want to assist Ace, but Marco had no doubts that Thatch had no intention of simply letting the kid walk away. He still believed Ace had a place in their family.

What did you see that made you so attached, my friend?

"What do you think, Bay?" Whitebeard asked, stopping any further arguments.

The doctor drummed her fingers on her sword's pommel, nails occasionally clicking on the hilt. "Despite what the others choose, I am going to go after him." She stated. "Ace is my patient, and as his doctor, I have a duty to him."

The implied 'I'm going with or without your permission.' went unsaid. Marco could not say he was surprised. Whitebeard was not one to restrict the freedom of his children, only asking the Captains to do the occasional mission or come when needed. For the most part, they could do what they wished, and as a doctor and Captain, Bay had even more autonomy.

If she believed medical matters outweighed Whitebeard's orders, she could adjust her mission or even ignore the Yonko's commands, within reason of course. Whitebeard trusted her judgement and expertise, and Bay was not the type to frivolously disregard Oyaji. If Bay thought she needed to pursue Ace, Whitebeard would let her. As for the Commanders…

"Permission to go with Bay, Oyaji?" Thatch asked without pause.

Whitebeard briefly closed his eyes. Before the silence stretched too long, he nodded once. "Of course. Izo and Marco may go as well, since I believe they will be distracted if they remain here."

The Yonko's tone was not chiding, but if Marco were not so controlled, he may have flushed. Izo also kept an unapologetic look, leaving Thatch to smile guiltily. "Are you sure you can spare us all?"

"I'm on my own anyway most of the time." The New World Captain pointed out.

"Well, yes, but I'm head chef and Marco is in charge of the First and Second Divisions and—" Thatch's mouth snapped shut with a click as he realized he was providing reasons why they should not go and thus was sabotaging his own arguments.

Whitebeard did not appear to mind. "Do not fret, my son. Your second-in-command is quite capable, and the rest of your siblings can divide Marco's duties among themselves. We will be fine without four Commanders."

Marco blinked and did some mental calculations. Bay had evidently done the same.

"Oyaji, unless I got a promotion I don't really want, I think you mean three." The New World Captain said slowly.

"Unless you have changed your mind, then you are still a Captain." Whitebeard said. He smiled briefly when Bay's nose wrinkled. "I thought as much. Then I did not miscount. Haruta will be also going with you."

"WHAT?!" Haruta squawked. "Why would I want to do—?" The Commander remembered who he was talking to. "Er. Why me, Oyaji?"

"You have not gone on a mission in a few months." Whitebeard said. "I can see that you'd like to go out there again." His eyebrows crept up his forehead. "Or is there another reason other than boredom as to why you decided that the left socks of the entire Third Division needed to be transformed into a fishing net?"

"You still owe me compensation." Jozu growled.

Haruta turned red. "Hey, it took days to make that. You should marvel at my creativity."

"It's difficult to 'marvel' when everyone has blisters on their left foot." Jozu grunted.

Haruta hummed vaguely and crossed his arms. "I was bored, okay?"

"Then there is no reason why you cannot accompany your siblings on this mission." Whitebeard said lightly.

Haruta's lips thinned. "I guess. Sure, I'll go."

Marco glanced at him sharply, displeased with the resignation in his tone. Normally any mission would have Haruta bouncing off the walls. Then again, the Commander had blatantly shown his belief that Ace wasn't worth the effort and that the mission was an unnecessary waste of their time—

The Phoenix blinked, gaze flicking to Whitebeard, and he took in the Yonko's pensive expression. The Yonko did not meet his eyes, keeping his stare on Haruta, but Marco knew that his father was aware he had figured out what he was playing at. The Phoenix withheld a sigh, already foreseeing the inevitable arguments and misery he'd have to deal with in the future. And it would be him because he was the oldest and most responsible.

Fun.

"So it's agreed then, yoi." was all the Phoenix said. "Bay, Thatch, Izo, Haruta, and I will go after Ace and make sure he gets to land. We will not dig into his secrets—" Izo gave him a disinterested stare Marco did not believe for a second. "— we will not antagonize him—" Haruta glared at the tabletop. "—and we will not try to make him join us." Thatch avoided Marco's pointed stare. "We're just going to make sure he doesn't die and hopefully part on better terms."

"Do you think he could be a threat to us in the future?" Vista asked seriously.

"Yeah, right." Haruta muttered.

Marco wisely ignored him. "I doubt it, but things like this can turn into an issue down the line. The kid's going to be strong someday. I'd rather not have him have a grudge against us."

"He won't. He's not the type." Thatch said. "Still, we'd better hurry up and find him just to make sure everything's a-okay. I'll go get supplies for the boat!"

The chef leapt to his feet, eager to get going. Marco caught his arm before he could dash out of the room.

"Make sure you double check the boat before we head off, yoi." he cautioned. "You know Stefan likes to sneak onto the smaller ships and tag along."

Thatch laughed. "I don't blame him. He loves to go on adventures."

OPOPOPOP

It was quiet. Quiet, but not silent. The wind and waves whispered sweet nothings, accompanied only by the occasional roar of flames as Ace used his fruit to propel himself just a little faster. The small boat he had acquired was not meant to use his fire as a means of movement so could not do it constantly, but it could handle short bursts meant to put more distance between himself and the Moby Dick.

It was so quiet. There were no Whitebeard Pirates bantering with each other. There were no Commanders ordering their subordinates around. There were no shrieks from Haruta or Thatch's latest victims. There was no bell signaling breakfast, lunch, or dinner, nor were there any alarms that another hostile ship in the area.

There were no other people here except Ace.

He was alone.

Ace loved it.

He couldn't stop smiling, but this smile felt different than his about-to-snap-or-burst-into-tears smile. It might just be genuine, which was weird. Weird, but expected. Because Ace was as free as he could be. He didn't have to worry about watching out for Teach, or acting normal, or accidentally acting suspicious, or anything.

There were no people he had to stop from dying, no plans to be made, no precautions to put in place… In previous loops, he was only alone when trying to avenge someone who had died. Even a majority of his old missions had involved going to assist someone, or being accompanied by a crewmate. This time, he truly was by himself with no attachments, responsibilities, or goals to drag him down.

He could simply live, if he wanted to.

What a marvelous and terrifying concept.

Even though he was trying to get as far away from the Whitebeard Pirates as possible, Ace was unable to find any urgency in his situation. He could relax because he was out. He was free. The future did not matter, this loop did not matter, his choices did not matter, and the one choice he did make made sure they would not die because of him this time. Ace knew the high of happiness would not last. It never did. But for now he allowed himself to enjoy it with a wild grin on his face.

I'm a free man, he mused, grin widening at the thought. I can do anything, go anywhere… Well, except East Blue.

Ace may have ditched the Whitebeard Pirates, but he could not break ties with Luffy. The bond with his brother had remained strong throughout all the loops, mostly helped by how consistent the rubber pirate was.

Every loop without fail his little brother understood. Well, he did not understand exactly but Luffy listened. More importantly, he did not care. He did not care that Ace was harsher and more stressed and sadder than he remembered. He did not care that Ace sometimes woke up screaming from nightmares or dazedly informed him Luffy was dead again while in an exhausted stupor. He did not care when Ace would randomly leave and return covered with blood, bluntly informing Luffy that the enemy had been taken care of. Luffy loved his big bro anyway and did not treat him like broken glass that needed to be mushed back together with glue.

Ace missed Luffy. But he could not go see him. Thus why the Logia would avoid East Blue like the plague. Not because he did not want to see his little brother, but because he did not want to ruin his future. Even with all his experience, Ace could not account for everything, and he always managed to accidentally run into someone from Luffy's adventures without intending to.

Those loops usually ended with Luffy dead.

It was almost illogical, but Ace had seen it happen enough times to know it was the truth. One slight alteration could result in Luffy not meeting Nami, or Chopper, or Zoro, and the lack of said crewmember tended to end the future Pirate King's adventures prematurely. It was terrifying to know how close his little brother always came to death, but Ace usually did more damage by trying to get involved than he did by staying away.

He'd never forget the loop where he'd accidentally saved Nami from Arlong and she'd become a Whitebeard Pirate when she was fifteen.

Going to East Blue was a major no-no. Unless he Majorly Fucked Up— capital letters required— Luffy's adventures before entering the New World should remain mostly unchanged. Ace just had to remember to meet with Luffy in Alabasta so he did not get captured by Smoker.

That's in three years. I have time.

What should he do in that time? Go wherever the winds took him? Bug a few Yonko? Make a name for himself as a mysterious unknown?

Ace smirked. Whatever the hell I want.

His stomach growled, forcing him out of his euphoria and back to earth. Ace glanced at the sun, noting the time of day, and gave a low chuckle. I guess I should eat.

He headed into the small cabin that served as shelter on the vessel. It did not have much, but it held far more than Striker ever could. A bed, a small stove, and even a couple cabinets for storage. But— most importantly— it had walls and a roof to stave off the elements, which was more than Ace was used to whenever he raced out on his own to seek vengeance—

Ace's stomach cramped and he halted mid-step, wrapping his arms around his gut and inhaling shakily. They're still alive this time. Breathe.

He breathed. He uncurled. He walked over to the cabinet and opened it, revealing his stash of food. Any chef worth their salt would never approve of his sorting and preservation methods— or lack of them— but in Ace's opinion, as long as the food didn't stink or look fuzzy, it was edible. Usually.

Ace carefully picked through his rations, pulling out things that would likely spoil first and ignoring the tightness in his chest when he noticed the amount was much larger than it had been when he'd last took stock. He only needed one guess as to who had given him more food. Rather than think about Thatch, Ace squashed the memories before they could bring him down.

I made my choice. I'm not a Whitebeard. I'm out. I'm free. I'm alone—

A shadow moved in his peripheral. Ace kept his posture relaxed as he stood with some meat, casually retrieving his knife from its sheathe. The dagger was not exactly made for throwing, but he did not want to burn down his only mode of transportation on the first freaking day so it would have to do.

The shadow moved along the wall, darting under the bed, and recognition dawned. Ace's muscles loosened and he sheathed his knife, lifting his palm to his forehead. Slowly, he dragged his hand dooowwwwwnnnn over his face, feeling the bumps and creases of his features. His palm hovered over his mouth and he released a gust of air that was surprisingly unaccompanied by a frustrated scream. Once he was certain he was not going to have a meltdown, Ace lowered his hand and snapped his fingers, pointing at his feet.

"Here." He ordered.

Stefan crept out from under the bed, ears and tail perking up hopefully. Upon seeing Ace's definitively unimpressed glower, the dog's appendages drooped and he meekly tiptoed to the teen's side. Stefan nudged Ace's leg and looked at him with pitiful eyes. The Logia's eye twitched.

"You did this on purpose, didn't you?"

Stefan tilted his head and blinked innocently. When Ace's countenance did not change, the dog licked his hand. All of Ace's ire melted away and he sighed, scratching Stefan behind the ears. He should have known this was going to happen again. He knew that Stefan liked to hide in the smaller vessels. He knew that he always needed to check to make sure the dog was not there before departing. And yet here he was, with an unwanted stowaway. This was not even the first time Stefan had decided to go with him without his knowledge, though it was the first where he had no intention of returning to the Moby Dick.

I can't go home again.

Ace's hand quivered as he stroked Stefan's smooth fur. Unaware of Ace's spiraling thoughts, Stefan perked up, tail wagging happily and smacking into the teen's leg.

"I'm not bringing you back." Ace informed him flatly. "And I'm not dropping you off at their island either. They could catch up too easily and I don't want to see them again."

Almost like he understood what the human was saying, Stefan's tail stopped wagging and he leaned back onto his haunches. Before Ace could respond to the apparent dismay, Stefan balanced on his hind legs, planting his forepaws onto the teen's chest and licking his chin. Ace grumbled and gently pushed him away.

"Does that mean you're okay with it? What loyalty you have." Ace's chuckle sounded strained even to himself. "Who am I kidding? You don't even know what's going on. I bet you think we'll go home— I'll bring you back to your home eventually. Not going to happen, buddy."

Stefan did not care. Ace wished he could pretend that it was because the dog consciously comprehended what was happening and had chosen him, but knew that was impossible. His growling stomach kept him from sinking into his thoughts and Stefan nudged his leg impatiently.

"Fine, fine. I'll eat." Ace relented. "I guess you want some too?"

He pulled out some extra meat and Stefan's tail wagged so fast Ace was surprised he did not lift off the ground. The teen sat on the bed and gave the dog a strip of meat, and Stefan settled down, enthusiastically gnawing at it. Ace watched him, nibbling at his own piece and appreciating the familiar warmth of the dog's weight against his leg.

His lips twitched. I should have known I wouldn't be able to escape all of you. I guess I still have a Whitebeard Pirate with me after all.

OPOPOPOPOP

A/N: I know this is a bit shorter than my usual, but I wanted to get this up today. Happy Holidays! :)

Please review! Updates are still going to be sporadic.