A/N~ Hellooo! This chapter is kinda long, and I was originally gonna cut it in half, but I NEEDED to get the boys outta that room at some point XD Also, I've noticed a few reviewers mentioning hints at potential Marco/Ace. Firstly, I have absolutely nothing against the ship, but with him meeting Ace as a 15 year old, a minor, I don't feel comfortable writing it as a ship (tbh I never intended Marcoace in this fic other than platonic). Sorry if I disappoint anyone DX XD

Another special mention to the following:

CanIHaveAHug: My dear, I shall WATER THINE CROPS WITH YET MORE OF THE FEELINGS, YE SHALL NOT BE DEPRIVED XD

MelodioofHope: They're the best cinnamon rolls, I love them so much T_T

Wordlet: I NEVER mind long reviews, they're my faves XD And yes, I make an effort to spread the focus on all the bros; if the story is centered around just one I'm okay with it usually, but in fics like these where ASL have been together for a long time and have been through some STUFF, you can't just focus on one of them; we need a window into the thoughts/feelings of the other two. Thanks for the review!

Gropes: First of all, your name makes me giggle, and yes, you shall have more XD

Royiah: Yes. Just yes. :D Luffy's hugs shall not be denied.

On that note, on with the chapter!

I OWN NOTHING.

Enjoy :)

Chapter 10

"Captain! Marine vessel on the horizon!"

Shanks pries his eyes open with great reluctance, stifling a mighty groan as he sits up. His back creaks in protest, an unhappy reminder of the years catching up to him; in hindsight, leaning against a rock for a nap really wasn't the best idea, but he's been known to make dumber decisions in his lifetime. One of them had cost him his left arm, but that, at least, he knows was worth it. He'd bet that arm on the new era, after all.

(And a boy like that...well, he might not be able to see into the future, but the view from his standing looks bright.)

What isn't worth anything, he grouses, is having to wake up from a blissful nap in the sun on a beautiful island retreat to the unwelcome visit from a ship full of Marines. Worse still, he's still kind of hungover from last night, hence the nap. Even so, he stands up, dusting the dirt and sand off his pants and cloak and walks over to the edge of the cliff overlooking the sea, coming to stand by his subordinate on lookout duty. His jaw cracks with a mighty yawn. "Any idea who it is?" he asks, lifting his hand to scratch the back of his head. "Much as I'd like to believe a bunch of rookies would track us down to have a go, I highly doubt it."

The young man with the spyglass leans forward a bit (like that'll help,) and Shanks shifts a little closer in case he has to prevent this dumbass from taking a swim. "Uh...can't tell the crew from here yet, but there's a big-ass dog figurehead on the bow, captain."

Shanks freezes mid-scratch, eyes bulging. A dog figurehead on a Marine vessel? Heading their way?

Crud. It's freakin' Garp the First.

"H-How far out are they?" he asks, cursing himself just a little for the stutter that everyone within earshot stifles a laugh at.

"I'd say about thirty minutes, Cap," the lookout says.

Shanks hangs his head in despair. "So, too late to run then," he mutters. He's seriously not in the mood for this man and his galore of eccentricities/bouts of anger. He's probably come to yell at him, or beat the holy hell out of him for 'converting his precious grandson into a pirate' – hadn't the first time been enough? The ensuing brawl had lasted five days and nearly destroyed the island. Good thing this one's uninhabited, at least.

(Still, despite his own grievances, he hardly blames the old coot. He'd known that day would come sooner than later the second he'd left his treasure with the boy, despite how...little Garp truly seems to be a part of Luffy's life other than the occasional beating – ah, 'training' rather – every other month. He'll give the man this, though; he does love his grandson, in his own strange, if not violent and irresponsible way. And to hear that he'd been influenced by one of the most dangerous and infamous pirates on the seas must've been less than amusing.)

There's a familiar chuckle behind him, and then his first-mate stands at his right and only hand, arms folded and a smirk on his face that's not at all helpful. "Certainly looks like it, Cap'n," Ben says around his cigar. "Even if we did, if it's for what I think it is, that crazy bastard will follow us all the way to hell 'till he gets your head on a platter. Might as well face the consequences. Again."

Shanks pulls a face, affronted in a manner that's only half feigned. "What consequences? All I did was –"

"Convince a Vice Admiral's six-year-old grand-kid to become the next Pirate King when he grows up," Yasopp hoots, along with a good handful of others gathering at the commotion. "Yeah, don't see how anything bad could'a come outta that, boss!"

Shanks doesn't pout. He doesn't. He's a grown-ass man and an Emperor to boot; Emperors do not pout. But it's a close thing. "Alright, alright, shut up you lot," he calls, and of course they only listen to a degree; there's still some snickers floating as he makes his way through the crowd and down to the beach, Ben and Lucky Roo at his heels. The rest of them follow once they've gotten over their giggles.

Useless scallywags, the lot of them. Surely this is a form of mutiny.

Spying the ship approaching the shore at a rapid speed, Shanks squares his shoulders. He knows he's strong, no doubt, and his crew a reliable bunch despite their bouts of childish idiocy. But Garp could go toe-to-toe with Roger, a man who always kicked Shanks' ass when he was a brat. And time means little to the marine if he's still able to chuck cannonballs like tennis balls at his age.

(This future does not look bright, not for Red Hair.)

Eventually, the ship drops anchor and settles at the shore. A gangplank drops to the damp sand, and minutes later, Garp the Fist himself steps down. His shoulders are barren of the navy coat he usually dons, leaving him in a dark suit and tie and polished shoes that scuff against the sand. That's odd enough for a colorful man like him, but his expression is a disconcerting mix of fury and...something else that has the pirate's heart sink with dread, and not for his own well-being for once.

The old Marine approaches at an even gait, an old box in his hands and a deep frown marring his scarred face. He stops a few scant feet from the pirate captain, staring him down. Shanks stares back and waits. The sea gently laps against the white sand and the mighty vessel anchored at her shore. Wind sweeps through the tropical trees and flora, rustling hair and coats in the warm, sea-salt breeze, gulls screeching their dissonance in the endless blue overhead.

Then – "I'd like to speak to you in private, Red Hair," Garp says at last, his gravelly voice decibels lower than what Shanks (and the rest of the world, probably) is used to.

Shanks regards the man before him, grey eyes traveling up and down. Just looking at him, anyone can see the Vice Admiral isn't here to fight. He cuts a glance at the crew still on the ship, and none of them have their weapons drawn; they're merely peering over the bow, watching their leader and the pirates with curious eyes, young and old alike.

Shanks trades a look with Benn. The other man's countenance gives nothing away, but the curious glint in his eye is telling enough, and he dips his head only slightly. With that, Shanks turns back to Garp, and cocks his head toward the trees, turning on his heel. Garp follows without a word, ignoring the lingering crew as they pass and enter the jungle, heading deeper inland.

This jungle is thick, untamed, and home to plenty of unusual species of beasts, all of which hide within the bushes and in the looming, green canopy, avoiding the powerful humans treading through the foliage of their island home. They've learned their lesson after a particularly ballsy, giant of a tiger had tried to sink his claws into the red-headed pirate, only to end up unconscious on the beach, frothing at the mouth, not a scratch on him or the man.

Shanks and Garp reach a clearing, quiet and private as per the Marine's request. Shanks takes a seat on a fallen tree trunk, arm resting on his knee, looking up at the cheerless man. He cracks a slight smirk despite this. "I take it you're not here to tell me off like last time," he says, "or for a drink."

Garp raises a hand, the box tucked under the other arm, and shakes his head. "No, thanks. I'd rather be sober for this." His frown deepens, and the arm around the box tenses. There's something dark, barely repressed, swirling in his eyes. "And I've had enough to drink in the last few months than I have in years as a sailor," he adds.

The smirk falls from Shank's lips as quick as it came. "I see. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit, Vice Admiral? Never pegged you as the type to chat with pirates, much less me."

"Believe me, Red Hair, any other day I'd have your ass. But this..." he sighs, heavy with all the burdens of the world on his shoulders. He takes the box, an old wooden thing with chips and cracks littered all over with age. Shanks stands from his perch as Garp opens the box and presents it. "I believe...this belongs to you."

Shanks freezes. Impossibly wide eyes stare with horror, confusion, a foreign flavor of fear, at the straw hat sitting inside the little wooden box.

It's that hat; Rogers' gift to him as a scrappy cabin boy, the very same he'd passed down to the little brat on a little island in East Blue, who'd looked him in the eye and swore to surpass him, swore to the title of a king for all that he was tiny for his age, and an anchor and a crybaby and a joy and delight and wonder forever –

That hat. Is sitting in a box. In the hands of a Vice Admiral. And not on the downy head of a little boy he'd grown far too fond of.

Jaw locking, Shanks' eyes slide up to meet Garp's. The aura pouring from him sends light tremors throughout the clearing, darkening the heavens above. It's all he can do to quell the building tempest of rage burning hot and violent in his chest. "What happened?" he asks, calm but dark as the the gathering storm clouds. He wonders if Benn is already cautioning the crew to keep away from the borderline of the jungle. Maybe further.

Garp, of course, is not at all intimidated. All that remains is bitter resignation, grief embedded into the lines of his wrinkled frown like a brand. "Slavers," he says.

The fallen trunk Shanks had sat on cracks and then explodes in a shower of wood. Neither pay it any mind.

Garp continues. "Some nobleman in the High Town district caught his own kid running around with my boys. Rather than contact the local authorities, the man went to the first crew of washed-up pirates he could find to bring him back. The kid managed to run away again a few days later, though, so the bastard decided to go the extra mile and hire slavers instead...to keep my boys away for good. Of course they took all of 'em, including the noble son. Since they'd been employed under the name of one of the more reputable nobles in the city, no one could do anything about it.

"This," he raises the box, "was all Makino had left when I got there. She'd called, told me everything. She'd watched 'em drag the kids off, held back by Woop Slap for her own safety..."

Shanks' heart clenches a second time. Oh, Makino...

The hand that reaches for the box is steady despite the trembling anger, the heartache, welling up within him as he gently plucks the hat from the box, bringing it close and running his thumb over the old brim. It's still in perfect condition. "...I see," he murmurs.

It's barely been two years, and already his captain's old treasure has been returned to him. And Luffy's grandfather is the one to bring it, along with the news of his...

Shanks' hand clenches around the hat pressed against his chest, the old straw crackling in protest. It's too soon. Far too soon, for the boy he'd come to love, no matter how brief their time had been.

It's too soon. And he won't stand for it.

He raises his eyes to Garp again, and he understands, now, why he'd sought the Emperor out. "...where?"

"No idea," Garp replies immediately, scrubbing a hand over his weary eyes. "It's been months. Only lead I have is that these guys make routes from Paradise to East Blue, and are conveniently under the radar of the World Government. Not nearly enough to narrow it down, not without the name of the ship, crew or captain, none of which Makino was able to tell me – tried her damn hardest, though, bless her heart. Plenty of slavers go to East Blue, being the weaker of the Blues. Easy pickings for 'em."

Shanks tries not to shudder, but it's a close thing. "That's good enough for me," he says instead. Garp stares at Shanks long and hard. Shanks stares back.

An alliance, should word get out and reaches the ears of the World Government, might mean more than just their heads. But for Luffy – and even the other brats, other grandsons apparently, whom Garp clearly loves – it's worth the risk, like his arm had been worth the little life he'd saved that day.

As a pirate, Shanks can do things that Garp, already under the watchful eye of the world with his ties to his own son, simply can't without repercussions, even for the life of his grandchild. It's sick, saddening, but there's little to be done on their part to change that. At least on their end. Dragon is another matter.

Speaking of which – "Does he know?" Shanks asks.

Garp sighs again, a heavy thing. "Not yet," he admits. "Call me a coward, but I'm not ready to face that storm yet, or subject the rest of the world to it."

"And yet you come to me, first?" It's almost enough to crack a smile out of both of them. Almost, but not quite. And again, the same stands for the illustrious leader of the Revolutionaries; they're incredibly adept at what they do, but there's only so much, and the rage of a father is a terrifying thing; rage that often leads to recklessness, even among men like Dragon. Even among men like Shanks. He's not a father, certainly not Luffy's, but...

Shanks' hand tightens around the hat, and the grin he casts across his face is a jagged, feral thing. "Where do we start?"

0o0o0

"The commanders and I wanna show you three around the Moby tomorrow morning, seeing as you're staying with us for the foreseeable future, yoi. But only if you want to. If you'd prefer to stay in here, you're more than welcome to do just that."

Marco's parting words echo in Ace's ears even now as he stares up at the ceiling of their cabin. It's not particularly interesting, but sleep has once again decided to be the elusive bitch she is, leaving Ace restless and frustrated in the midnight gloom. Not even the steady pulse of his fire is enough to lull him to sleep – or maybe it's what's keeping him awake, so used to being dormant, shackled and suffocated until permitted otherwise.

Regardless, he's awake in the middle of the damn night, aboard a ship full of pirates who's intentions are...far from what Ace had expected, thus far, and a captain who can literally crush them between his fingers without so much as batting an eye.

(Yeah, that surely helps putting one to sleep. Thanks, unwanted images, you're an ass.)

Needless to say, it's been an eventful day. A day of which has been spent mostly within the confines of their cabin, away from the prying eyes of the rest of the crew.

The three pirate commanders had left shortly after whatever the hell it was Thatch and Rakuyo were even arguing about had come to an end, the former promising yet more food at a later date – dinner, basically. (Such a promise, a concept of more than one or two meals a day, had Luffy throw his arms around the fourth commander a second time; the man was again reduced to melodramatic tears.) Marco had paused briefly at the door to make them an offer – not a demand – before departing with his crew-mates, satisfied with Ace's half-hearted "maybe."

In the interim, the boys were left to their own devices. Luffy was bouncing off the walls – literally – laughing and giggling and pulling stupid faces to make Sabo laugh; his efforts were not wasted, and the tense blond was in a fit of breathless hysterics in minutes. Ace had watched them, a grin stealing his face and warmth coursing through him, now in more ways than one.

(A shame he couldn't quite follow Luffy's lead however; untamed bursts of fire don't mix well with wood, so he hears.)

As promised, Thatch returned a short while later, alone, with food in his arms and a cheerful greeting. As they ate, the commander had casually, though eagerly with a dash of hope, brought up Marco's earlier offer again to join them above deck come morning. He took their hesitance in stride, but assured them that at least two commanders would accompany them the whole time should they change their minds. Getting re-acquainted with the captain can come much later.

That's a meeting Ace fears he'll never be ready for. Or worthy enough, the way he is now.

Thatch had left soon after they'd finished eating, wishing them a good night's rest and pleasant dreams. And yet neither come to Ace now as he lies here, staring up at the ceiling, thoughts whirling without quarter in his brain like a raging sea.

He soon gets sick of counting the cracks in the wooden panels and rolls to his side, seeking his brothers in the dark. Luffy is tucked up against Sabo's chest, fast asleep and softly snoring; they've pulled all three beds together, uncomfortable with the idea of sleeping separately. (Thatch hadn't said anything of it when he'd dropped by; he'd just smiled and rolled with it.)

Unheeding of Rakuyo's prior warnings, Luffy had managed to exhaust himself with his endless bouncing and stretching (though who is anyone to blame him?), asleep the moment his head hit the pillow; Sabo joining him to wrap him up in the safety of his arms only ensured his departure from the waking world. The blond has long since shut his eyes, breaths soft against the top of Luffy's head. But Ace would be a fool to think his twin is truly asleep.

And so – "Sabo," he whispers. Blue and grey eyes snap open in an instant, glowing in the dimness. Ace smirks. "Can't sleep either?"

Sabo shrugs a shoulder. "Sorta," he whispers back, running the hand not pinned under Luffy's frame through the boy's wayward hair. "'M tired, but...too much in my head..."

Ace nods. He lifts an arm and drapes it over Luffy to catch Sabo's arm in a careful grip, pulling him and the younger nestled between them closer; Luffy snorts in his sleep at the movement, but soon settles against Ace's chest, nuzzling into the warmth flowing off the freckled teen in gentle waves. The older two spare a moment to smile at the sleping boy. "Same here," Ace mumbles, meeting Sabo's inquisitive gaze. "This is...I dunno –"

"Crazy?"

Ace snorts. "Maybe a little." The smile fades just as quickly, though, uncertainty taking hold once more. He sighs softly into Luffy's hair. "I'm...I don't know about this, 'Bo," he admits. "I mean, all this is great, what they've done, and I'm grateful, really. But..."

(The damned voices in his head, screaming 'lies, betrayal, tricks, don't trust them' are louder than those that plead he open his heart for once and try. But it's been years, and his heart is as black and yellow as his back, marred with scars that might linger until his dying day. One more hit and there's no saving it...)

A warm calloused hand covers his, the thumb smoothing over his knuckles. Ace lifts his eyes to Sabo's, and the blond cracks a rueful smile. "It is a lot to take in, isn't it?" he asks. When Ace nods, he chuckles and squeezes Ace's hand once. "Guess they...really want us to trust them. Going through all this effort, taking off the sea stone..."

Ace lifts a brow. "And?"

Sabo bites his lip, chewing it for a moment. "...well, the fact that we're still alive counts for something, right?" he offers. At Ace's dubious look, he rolls his eyes. "Look, so far they've given us no real reason not to trust them. They gave you back your fire, Ace. Doesn't that mean something?"

"Of course it does. But that's just three guys, four counting Izo," Ace argues. "What's to say that the rest of the crew are the same? A crew this big is bound to have more than a few bad eggs. Unless I was right, and this really is some kind of sick game they're playing..." He doesn't sound quite as convinced as he (sort of) feels, even to his own ears. Sabo shares the sentiment, his sigh telling enough.

"Alright, how about this?" the blond offers, shuffling closer and squishing Luffy between them (he's too far gone to notice, or even if he does, he certainly won't complain). "We'll take them up on their offer. Tomorrow morning, we go up and check the ship out. If we see or find anything even slightly wrong, or if Luffy comes across one too many of those 'bad eggs', we'll come right back here. We'll decide whether to stay or leave based on that. Sound fair?"

Nosing Luffy's hair absently, Ace mulls it all over. Admittedly, it's a much better plan than the mere skeleton plan that was Ace's former 'escape strategy'. Better still, it'll give them a chance to map the place out, find the kitchens and other stock holds for them to pilfer supplies should they need them. As for mingling with the crew, hundreds of powerful men and women, pirates under Whitebeard... He looks at Sabo. "...what about you?" he asks. "Being with the crew, I mean. You sure you're comfortable with that?"

"No," Sabo's reply is immediate, breathless almost, and his hand clings to Ace's like a lifeline as he shuts his eyes, lips pressed together. Ace gives his brother a moment, twisting his hand in Sabo's grip until their fingers are intertwined. Then Sabo sighs, heavy from his soul, and opens his eyes. "...I...I doubt I'll ever be, if I'm honest," he whispers, his voice tight. "But...if we're gonna move on, then we need to take the first steps. Conquer our fears, get stronger..."

His eyes narrow, and Ace could almost weep at the revived vitality in the mismatched blue and grey. "...break the last few chains shackling us to that godforsaken place once and for all."

Not for the first time and certainly not the last, Ace is so proud of his brother, proud of the renewed resolve agleam in his eyes; the same that had given him the strength to take down the guard and guide their path to freedom, to rebel against his parents at a tender age and make a home among the scraps, and then among an unruly troop of bandits and two, raggedy, lonely kids who shared his lifelong dream.

Ace smiles, wide and real, and presses a kiss against against Sabo's forehead, the blond jolting in surprise at the gesture. "Yeah," he says, and if his voice sounds a little choked neither of them bring it up. "I mean...jeez, I still don't know what the hell these crazy bastards are trying to do –"

"Ace –"

"I know, 'Bo, I know. But...for your sake and Luffy's...for the sake of moving on, letting go, I'll...I'll try."

Sabo's smile is a slow thing but a bright one. "And that's all we ask, Ace. That's more than enough," he says. Ace smiles back.

"Shishishi!"

They both jump, startled, and then glare at the giggling, very wide awake little boy squished between them, shamelessly eavesdropping on their conversation like the heathen he is. And because said heathen appears utterly unrepentant for prying, grinning up at them cheekily –

"You sneaky little bugger!" Ace grabs him around the waist and squeezes, earning a high-pitched squeak and then a helpless stream of giggles from the rubber boy as he flails in Ace's unrelenting grip, kicking the blankets off. "What did we tell you about listening in on big brother conversations?" Ace admonishes with no heat and a grin pressed against Luffy's neck.

"To do it, apparently," Sabo chuckles, sitting up and watching them go at it, and then laughing instead of helping when Luffy twists in Ace's arms and bites his shoulder. Ace yelps, smothering curses, and Sabo tries to hush them through his own giggles.

The wrestling and laughter simmers eventually, leaving them boneless and giddy. Luffy lies sprawled on top of Ace, head on Ace's chest to listen to his heart-beat. The older boy runs a hand through the ebony mess of hair. "So, what do you think, Lu?" he asks after a short lull of silence. Luffy's eyes flutter open, and he meets Ace's questioning gaze. "You okay with going up there tomorrow?"

Pausing briefly to spare a glance at Sabo, Luffy sits up to straddle Ace's middle, folding his arms over his chest with a thoughtful pout. Ace props himself up on his elbows and waits. Sure enough – 'I agree with Sabo,' he signs for S and drags his palm down the left side of his face for Sabo's scar. 'If we want to be free, we have to get strong and face our fears. And besides,' he adds, smiling brightly, 'I like the commanders, especially Thatch. The big captain is kind. I can tell.'

Ace hums under his breath, considering. He cocks a brow. "...what about the rest of the crew? What if they're not like Marco or Thatch or –" he grimaces "– Whitebeard?"

Luffy doesn't hesitate. 'Then we get off at the next island like we said before. I'd rather it just be the three of us then stick around with a bunch of jerks.'

Ace can't help but snicker; Luffy's never had the tolerance for bullies. Five years of enduring some of the worst back there is more than enough.

Heaving a sigh, Ace lets himself flop backwards onto the mattress, which Luffy predictably takes as an invitation to sprawl over him again, cuddling against his chest and sighing happily; Ace just rolls his eyes and throws his arm around Luffy. "Alright then," he mutters. "Looks like we're goin' up tomorrow. Facing our fears and whatnot."

"You don't sound overly excited," Sabo teases, shuffling closer and bringing the blankets back over them, settling against Ace despite his earlier bitching about it being too hot now with Ace's body temperature rising to match his unbound devil fruit.

Ace smirks. "Neither do you."

Sabo shrugs, muffling a yawn against Ace's shoulder. "Least I'm honest about it," he says. "Still...best to get it over with. And...and I'll try not to...y'know..."

He doesn't need to elaborate. And they both know one day interacting with a crew of pirates of all things won't change it, not right away, or at all if things decide go awry. So he doesn't say anything. Instead, he pulls Sabo closer. "Get some sleep, 'Bo," he whispers, Luffy settling to sleep atop him. "We'll deal with tomorrow when tomorrow comes." His cheek against Ace's shoulder, one hand reaching up to clench his shirt, Sabo eventually closes his eyes.

Soon enough, the younger two are finally out like lights, for real. In turn, Ace's eyelids grow heavy, sleep finally deciding to stop being the elusive wretch. He settles into his brothers' embrace and closes his eyes, one final thought rolling about in his brain before dreams, good or bad, claim him.

'Twenty-four hours. Let's see who you Whitebeard's really are.'

0o0o0

The first thing Luffy does when their feet touch the top deck is rush to the nearest railing, dragging Sabo and Ace with him despite their flailing, and lean over the side to gaze upon the open waters of the Grand Line.

Five years since he's seen the ocean, and it's still as beautiful, as vast and endless and so vibrantly blue as he remembers, the gentle waves lapping against the ship and glistening in the morning sun's lovely golden rays, carrying this mighty vessel along with grace and ease unmatched. Luffy's laughter falls, a breathless thing as he stares open mouthed, fingers gripping the banister hard enough to blister the rubber skin. Sabo and Ace are silent beside him, but Luffy feels their awe as keenly as his own.

For so long they'd dreamed of setting sail to the Grand Line, pirate captains of their own vessels or a crew all their own, free as the blowing winds and adventure awaiting them on the horizon. Things had taken...an awful, unexpected turn, their dreams put on hold in their fight for survival.

But despite it all, they're here. They're alive, and they're here. They've made it.

(But Luffy knows all too well how much they've yet to go before they're ready to face such seas alone. Before they're truly free. But he has to admit, this is one hell of a start.)

"Been a while since you've seen the briny blue, huh kiddos?" Luffy jumps only slightly at Thatch's voice (oh yeah, they were supposed to be following him, Marco and Izo to the galley, and yet Luffy had scampered off to the rails like an idiot. Whoops.)

The boys all turn on their heels to face the fourth commander; the man has his hands on his hips and a soft smile on his scarred face as he stares out into the blue oblivion, his eyes distant and fond as though he's seeing off an old friend. He breathes in deep through his nose and releases a happy sigh, long and content, shoulders drooping as he relaxes.

For all his dramatics and eccentricities, Thatch always seemed laid-back to Luffy. But this is...this is peace, satisfaction with the world and everything in it even for a moment. It's been so long since Luffy's felt the same, back when life seemed simpler, a little more innocent...even with bandits and pirates and corrupt nobles of whom they robbed on a daily basis.

"I've been sailing these seas for a while now," Thatch says after a short lull, only the gulls, the waves and the daily doings of the crew for company; his voice is soft, almost reverent, "and it never gets old. Waking up to nothing but the sea and the sky all around you...that's freedom. Well, our freedom anyway."

Luffy stares up at the pirate commander with wonder, respect, brown eyes blown wide with it. He looks across at Marco and Izo coming up behind him, and their soft smiles speak the same truth, carry the same warmth and fondness for the endless blue. They love freedom, treasure it the same way Luffy and his own brothers do. The same way Shanks did...

(The stabbing reminder of that red-haired pirate, the promise they'd made and the treasure he'd left behind almost brings tears to Luffy's eyes.

He fights them off. This is no place to cry.)

"What about you three?" Thatch asks suddenly, jolting Luffy from his thoughts. The older pirate cracks a grin and cocks his head to the side, leading onward down the deck to the galley; the crew has already begun to come alive, teeming with pirates of every size and shape, some eyes drawn to the three brothers following after the commander in curiosity, similar to yesterday. Luffy shuffles closer to Ace on instinct, but at Marco's pointed look and Izo's hand drifting towards his pistol, none of them come any closer. "You ever think about setting sail at all?" Thatch continues once they've past the worst of the prying gazes.

Sabo bites his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth. A stray curl of blond comes loose as the wind sweeps over them, and he tucks the stubborn thing behind his ear with a finger. "...uh...well..." he trails off, hesitant. Luffy squeezes his hand, and offers his best encouraging grin; it does the trick, for Sabo swallows once and keeps going. "We...we wanted to set sail when we turned seventeen and become pirates, si – I mean, ah, M-Mister Thatch."

(Luffy could dance with glee he's so proud. Mister is a far cry better than 'sir' in his book.)

But then Thatch snorts, loudly, and barks a laugh. Sabo jolts, startled, and ducks his head immediately. Ace immediately bristles at Luffy's other side; he looks about ready to do something that just might be stupid before Thatch turns to Marco –

"He called me Mister," he snickers to his fellow commander, who looks less than entertained and more exasperated in a fashion Luffy has become quite acquainted with since pledging brotherhood; he's been on the receiving end of multiple 'Dumbass Brother' glares in his lifetime to know it when he sees it. "D'you guys here that?" Thatch goes on, puffing his chest out and grinning fit to burst, "I'm Mister Thatch now –"

"Shut that mouth of yours, brother dear, before a shove the barrel of my gun up your backside," Izo chimes with a sweet smile to match, one hand curling around the handle of a pistol tucked in his sash. Thatch shuts his mouth, eyes fixed ahead, sweating. Luffy stifles another giggle, and Ace settles down just barely. Sabo does his best to hide the blush staining his cheeks, but he's not quite successful.

Marco just rolls his eyes at the whole exchange, but cranes his neck to offer Sabo a reassuring smile. "Never mind Thatch, he's just teasing. He likes to remind everyone how much of an idiot he can be, yoi."

Thatch splutters. "Excuse you –!"

"But anyway," Marco continues right over Thatch's indignant squalling, falling back a few paces to walk beside the trio instead. "You said you three wanted to be pirates? That's interesting, yoi. Brave, too. What made you decide to pursue such a 'career'?" he asks, not a trace of skepticism or jest in his placid tone. It's surprising; anyone looking at Luffy and his brothers the way they are now, a hairsbreadth away from skin and bones, would deem it impossible, reckless to pursue such a dream. Not Marco, though. None of them do. Their expectant smiles are proof of that.

(Luffy loves them a little more for that.)

So Luffy beams, slipping his hands from his brothers' grip – 'For freedom and adventure,' he signs in reply. Sabo cracks a hesitant smile of his own, the flush across his cheeks abating as he nods in agreement. All eyes fall on Ace next, anticipant but patient.

Though less bristly than he was, Ace's frown remains as he shoves his hands into his pockets, casting his gaze over the sea beyond the boarder of the railings instead. "Same here," he replies eventually. Then his eyes narrow, just slightly, and there's a new spark in the iridescent silver pair; one that Luffy remembers from a lifetime ago, when they'd declared their dreams to the heavens atop a cliff overlooking the vast expanse of the sea below. "And...there's someone I need to surpass," he adds, distantly, as though he's talking to himself and not the trio of curious commanders.

Ahead, Thatch and Izo share a befuddled glance. Marco's eyes narrow on Ace with definite interest.

(Luffy knows full well who Ace is referring to, though after the events of yesterday, he has a distinctly bad feeling that the list of people who's ass his older brother feels he has to kick to prove himself has grown by one more. That one more being...

Ace is strong, Luffy knows, impossibly strong in immeasurable ways, and Luffy couldn't be prouder. But even the strongest have their limit, this Luffy has learned the hard way, and he prays to a god he stopped believing in long ago that his brother knows what he's doing, or at least reconsider. Surely he's sensible enough to think this over properly, right?

The young raven trades a quick look with Sabo, this hopeful question in his eyes. Sabo grimaces, shaking his head.

No. Of course he isn't. Dammit.)

Then Marco flashes a grin, half-lidded eyes bright and knowing in a way that makes Luffy's gut churn with dread anew. "I see," he says simply, carrying on along the deck, ignoring the burning pair of metallic eyes now trained on his back. "Well, before you go on surpassing anyone, I suggest we get some food into you first, yoi. Galley's right this way; should be getting empty now that the breakfast rush is nearly over, so you won't have to worry about crowds."

(He doesn't seem at all perturbed that Ace has, non-too subtly, hinted at the possibility of another attack on their own captain. If anything, the idea seems to intrigue him. Luffy, for the life of him, can't fathom why.)

Ace must think the same thing as he narrows his eyes at Marco's back, snorting once and then giving Luffy's hand a gentle tug, and off they go towards the galley. Good thing, too; Luffy could go for something bigger than a single plate of eggs this time.

However, as they descend the steps leading to the galley, the youngest dismisses the curious murmuring between Thatch and Izo ahead of him and instead watches in mild fascination as Sabo and Ace manage to have an entire argument with their eyes and expressions alone.

He can't quite translate all of it, but catches Sabo throwing Ace the 'Seriously?' look, and Ace retorting with his infamous 'You just try to stop me, bitch' frown; Sabo evidently admits defeat after gifting Ace with the 'You're a huge dumbass' sigh, a rough and irritated thing. Ace simply huffs and looks away from Sabo. Sabo huffs and looks away from Ace.

Apparently they've fallen out again. That's nothing new, though, and they'll make up by the end of the day, if not earlier. It happens every time. Luffy's not worried.

He feels eyes on him, a familiar pair that surges no panic, and he looks up to find thatch and Izo giving him and his brothers and odd look; they must've caught some of the exchange, leaving them hilariously clueless. Luffy sympathizes, offering a shrug and a somewhat apologetic smile in return. Big brothers are fickle things at the best and worst of times, and yet he continues to love them.

No matter, though. They have more important things to worry about than petty arguments and apparent threats on the strongest man in the world. They have food to look forward to now, among other things.

Whatever happens in the next few hours will decide what becomes of the three of them; whether they stay, build their trust and confide in the Whitebeard's, or leave and take their chances out there in an unfamiliar world.

Ace's reluctance and Sabo's trepidation aside, Luffy has high hopes. With a captain like Whitebeard, so incredibly strong yet so kind at his core, and commanders as understanding and friendly (dare he say loving) toward each other, accepting and cheerful and fun at the heart of their bond, there's little room left for doubt that they'll at the very least be safe here, for as long as they need to be.

Luffy wouldn't be surprised if, by the end of all this (however long that may be), one of his brothers eventually decides to join the crew. Granted, it's quite a stretch considering the nature of his brothers, but one the boy is willing to bet on with confidence.

(Luffy won't join, however. No matter how great the crew and their captain, Luffy will sail under no flag but his own. He'd made a promise, after all.

A future Pirate King serves no one but himself, the sea as his throne and the wind as his guide to boundless adventure and freedom.)

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