So I wanted to get this out on November 5 as a sort of anniversary present to myself, but I overestimated my ability to write with the TV on…so this is a little late but HAPPY TWO MONTHS GUYS!

It's hard to believe I have been consistently updating this for two months now…I'm a little speechless…

So this one is dedicated toSetsuyume my darling as always~ but also to a reviewer on AO3 who goes by the name Mountain97 because their review made me cry and actually helped me out in starting this chapter because I was admittedly having some problems with it…so thanks a lot love~

ALSO, a lot of y'all asked the same question and it'll be answered in the beginning of this chapter~ no worries~ AND there is some scenes of violence (I think 2?) so warning for those too~ nothing too bad tho~ now without any further ado~

SET SAIL!

The teen was sprawled on the deck of the marine's vessel. His ass hanging out in the open, humiliation crashing down on him in waves and the utter disparity made him want to curl into a ball and never reenter the real world again. But his body hurt too much, his broken bones panging, his emotions in a complete wreck and his mind in shambles.

Ace was utterly shattered. There was no other way to describe his state of being right now. His mind was fluttering through the scenes of his last few pain filled hours. He couldn't make himself focus on a single memory. Nothing stuck for too long and each scene just caused a depressing numbness to spread throughout his body. He couldn't move. It hurt to breath. Every twitch brought with it a new pain. He felt so…so used.

Disgusting. Unworthy. Dirty. Broken. Destroyed.

His legs twitched slightly and tears rolled down his cheeks as he felt the substance that was coating his butt slide down his inner thighs. The tears were half caused by pain and half due to relief. The pain was easily discerned as coming from the humiliation of having that marine captain ejaculating on him. The relief flowed from the fact that he was able to keep the man from penetrating him and raping him fully.

When he first felt what had to be the man's manhood, Ace just shut down, his mind was blank, he couldn't keep any of his thoughts. Just the stop, stop, stop he wished he could yell out. He didn't want to have the memory of what could have happened; didn't want his first time to be forced on him by a man who only wanted to degrade him. More than ever Ace was glad for his body's instantaneous reaction of shutting down when his mind broke. It kept his body completely shut to the man trying to penetrate him.

The man didn't rape him.

Ace wasn't sure if that was enough for him to feel glad but it was enough for him to be relieved. His breaths got shallower and he could feel the blood from the slashes in his back start flowing again. He wanted to get away. He didn't want to hear those heartless laughs anymore, he didn't want to be subjected to this, and he would rather die than allow them to continue on with their abuse.

He heard a loud laugh and a zipper sound, the captain no doubt making himself presentable once more. The other catcalls and snickers made Ace want to sink into the floor and never be released. He just needed to be elsewhere. Somewhere his fire could return to shield and protect him. He needed it, wanted it, craved it.

An odd noise sounded not far off from where the teen was. His mind was still in pieces so he couldn't figure out exactly what it was or why it happened at all, he was just focused on a new objective; escape. And he just knew that this was his chance.

With a pained groan the blind youth used his cuffed hands to pull himself forward, trying to get as far away from the marine captain as he possibly could. He powered through the pain in his fingers, the torturous way his forearms ached as he used the muscles attached to the broken bones for the first time since his arms were broken.

The tears were now dropping off his chin and no doubt staining the floor, his eyes still closed as a last line of defense. His teeth were chattering now as well, from the cold and the pain no doubt. Without the constant company of his fire, the teen was freezing and he vaguely wondered if this was how his family felt when approaching a winter island, or while they were on a spring island as the sun was setting.

He never felt the unusual cold from a winter or spring island before. He had eaten the Mera Mera no Mi long before he entered the Grand Line, and despite acquiring new knowledge, the teen wished he'd never had to experience it. The loss of his fire was the first blow, and the ones that followed due to his lack of fire defenses made him want to curl into a small ball and wait for death.

He felt a foot kick his own and he couldn't hold back a cry of pain, his lip was already covered in blood from him biting it so hard and his tongue was no better. Besides, the marines already got what they wanted. He had screamed as soon as….as that happened. They won. So what was the point in being stubborn when he could comfort himself by letting the pain flow into his voice?

The same foot came down on his lower back and Ace cried out, tears falling from his closed eyes even faster than before. His whole back was completely shredded and whoever was stepping on him just got dirt into the numerous cuts that were there.

A malicious laugh reached his sensitive ears and the teen knew the person stepping on him was the dickhead captain. Didn't the guy humiliate Ace enough? Why was he trying to prolong his torture? He got what he wanted, what more could he take from him? What else was there?!

"How. Dare. You."

That voice was different. It wasn't the captain's voice but it was still filled with anger and distaste. Who-who's was it? Was it a different crew member here to force Ace into something more painful? More humiliating?

But this voice wasn't filled with malice like the others were, and it didn't sound like it was directed at him. Who was it?

The foot on his back practically flew off of the teen, ripping another pained yelp from him. The man's boot seemed to take some more of the skin, off Ace's back, with him as he went flying off somewhere unknown.

Next thing the fire user knew there was a presence at his side. He didn't know who it was because his fire was still bound but the teen would bet it was another blasted marine. Maybe one who was pissed off that the captain got to degrade him first.

Ace started scooting away from the person that was standing near him. He knew he wouldn't get far but he felt better about trying to put up a fight even if he knew that the person would get whatever he wanted anyway.

When a hand touched the shorts around his knees he screamed.

Nononono. No. Not again. Please not again. No more. No more tries, he couldn't take this. His mind was so fragile, he wouldn't survive another attempt. No. He refused.

He tried scooting away, letting out cry after cry as his bones creaked and ached, with his tears trailing down his cheeks in heavy drops. He couldn't move far, or even fast, his muscles shutting down and he just gave up and slumped onto the deck. Ace tried to curl into a ball to maybe protect himself, but he was out of energy. He couldn't move anymore. He was done.

The hand touched his shorts again and he flinched away but didn't move besides that. He just slumped, done with everything. His eyelids were no longer shut tightly but instead lax, like he was going to fall asleep. The teen would admit the thought was tempting, but he couldn't do that surrounded by enemies, he knew better than that.

So he would be awake through whatever torture he would go through next. He would survive. And he would heal himself. And he would be okay.

His thoughts made him cry harder. They were idealistic. Ace thought he'd be able to bounce back from this but he didn't know if he could. All he went through, the teen didn't know how to heal from that. He didn't even know where to start.

When the hand on his shorts pulled them up, covering his lower body once more, Ace froze. Why? What was the point of doing that when he was just going to hurt him? These marines didn't care about his dignity; in fact they seemed to revel in destroying it. So why was this one preserving it?

The teen whimpered as the hands moved to his shoulders, careful of placing his hands on places with the least amount of cuts, and the person flipped him over. Ace braced himself for the pain of making contact with the deck, but it never came. The man, and it had to be a man with those wide forearms, was cradling his back with his arm across his shoulders. It hurt, the man's touch, but not as much as the deck would have hurt if his shredded back made contact with it.

Ace was confused. This man was so careful with him; making sure to touch him in the places with the least wounds, being attentive to all his injuries, and to not jar any of his broken bones. The man's other arm came up under his knees, holding them tightly so his ankles barely swung around.

He let out a cry anyway when he was first wrapped in those strong arms, the contact shocking his body. For the past few hours all contact had been harsh and painful, the kind and soft grip was not expected and in fact made the teen a bit more wary.

This person could very well be another enemy hiding his malicious thoughts with caring gestures but the teen really couldn't do anything about it. He could move a little but not enough to roll out of this stranger's hold. He had to stay put for now.

A particularly hard rock of the ship caused the man to make a heavy step forward which made Ace totter a little and attempt to find something to keep steady. The first thought, and the one the teen acted on, was to wrap his arms around this person's neck. No greater way to be stable than to have his cuffed arms wrapped around the guy's neck, right? And this way if the man tried anything untoward or hurtful then Ace could just smash his face in.

It was when he swung his cuffed hands over the man's neck to steady himself that the teen really understood what was happening.

This person had a jacket on, but that was it. Ace could feel their skin pressed together, even if it hurt having something connecting to the burns littered across his chest, the teen wanted to get closer. To stay in these arms and be safe, protected. He knew this person, this presence, this fire that now surrounded him.

Marco.

They had come. His family had come to save him.

Soon tears were once again trailing down his cheeks, not from fear or pain or that odd relief from earlier, but with genuine happiness. They were here. They still loved him, cared for him. He wasn't alone.

He slumped into Marco's arms at that point, completely spent, emotionally, physically, and mentally. He would let them take over, he could rest now, his family had him. He was safe.

The soft fire wrapped around him tightly and Ace moaned, happy to feel flames around his body once more. They weren't his flames but they were a very close second and at this point anything was better than the bitter cold and loneliness he had been feeling without any fire around.

The other's head lowered, light hair tickling his face and the teen nuzzled the man's scratchy cheeks in absolute joy. There was no greater happiness right now than being so close to the person who made him feel so many different emotions. The thought made him tear up again, gods he had to stop that. The stinging pain that came reminded Ace that his eyes were still firmly shut.

It was when the other moved his head back that Ace opened his eyes for the first time since he was taken hostage by these blasted marines. He had no doubt that he was currently gazing blankly at Marco, considering how close their heads were, there was no way his eyes could be facing anywhere else. The teen was so glad. Even as the broad man gripped him tightly in an awkward hug and jostled his wounds, Ace couldn't keep the smile off his face.

Marco had him. He was safe.

The man started to move, walking slowly and gently, obviously trying not to cause Ace any more pain than he was already in. The teen really appreciated the gesture and hugged him tighter, tears still racing down his cheeks, only this time landing on the man's jacket instead of the wooden deck. The fire user rested his head on the large shoulders of the other and sighed happily. Next to claiming Luffy as a brother, and accepting Whitebeard as his father, this was the happiest moment of the teen's life.

His rescuer stopped slowly and Ace could feel the wind from the ocean pushing against his hair harder now than earlier when they were in the middle of the deck. They must be at the railing. The teen couldn't help but wonder how many others Marco brought with him, and if whatever life boat they brought was big enough to carry them all back to the Moby.

Ace was completely and utterly stunned when the man jumped up and not down, landing on a vessel only seconds after leaving the marine's. Did-did the whole family come? The teen rubbed his head against Marco's neck and let out a soft cry, not up to actually speaking words. The man nuzzled him in return with his scratchy five o'clock shadow and moved his lips to the shell of Ace's ear.

The words he spoke made the teen so relieved and happy that he just passed out, done with everything that happened today and ready for it to be a new day. A smile graced his lips as his eyes closed and he sighed softly as Marco continued on walking, no doubt taking him to the infirmary, and for once the teen couldn't find it in himself to complain.

"We all came for you. You're safe now. We've got you."

-this is a line dammit-

The waves were pounding at the ship, the wind was blowing and fluttering the wisps of blonde hair on his head, there was no noise aboard the Moby. Marco's eye were narrowed, vision tunneled. There was only one thing on his mind, only one thing he was looking at, only one thing that held importance amongst everything else.

That was Ace.

The youthful fun teen and his bright smiles that lit up the Moby with an energy that was hard to explain to outsiders. And he was hurt. He was downed. He was alone on an enemy vessel.

Marco didn't even wait for orders, or a command, or even a sound from pops. He was off, arms fluttering into the blue and yellow wings of his phoenix, as he launched himself from the deck leaving a trail of blue fire behind him.

He wasn't even paying attention to the captain who loomed over the ebony-haired teen. All he saw was the younger who was shaking and trying to move. He was trembling.

Vaguely the blonde heard a laugh but the man was on a mission. He was going to grab Ace and take him back. Back to the Moby, back to Pops and the others, back to safety. And no one would stop him if they wanted to live. He'd kill everyone who got in his way.

His sole focus started to move. Trembling as he used his chained arms to pull himself forward. Chained. They chained him. Like an animal. Like a prisoner. They took his freedom away. Ace should never be like this. Chained up and reduced to pulling himself with his arms. Never. The blind teen should always be free. He shined like that. Like a star placed here on earth to make life brighter.

Marco's sight started to tint an odd red color when he noticed wet patches on the deck where Ace was once laying. Some were dark with a red tint, like stains from blood, but some were lighter with no real color, like water. Ace was crying. He was fucking crying. No one had the right to make him cry. No one. Ever.

His feet started shifting, his sharp talons spreading in preparation for an attack. His aim not any particular person on the marine vessel, just needing to cause pain to the people who thought they could hurt one of his family.

He landed on the deck lightly, barely making a sound, but it was enough to get him the attention of the marine crew. They were surprised to see him on their deck, more surprised to see the Moby behind him if their faces said anything. He would have been shocked at their lack of movement but he felt nothing but anger towards them, for changing Ace. For harming him.

The teen started to shake harder at that point, almost like a shivering, and Marco took a step forward, his talons scratching up the deck with the strength he used to hold himself back. The captain turned towards him from looking down on the slightly moving teen and he stepped back in surprise, knocking Ace's foot as he did so.

When the young fire user let out a pained cry Marco bristled, his skin fazing from burning feathers to skin at a rapid rate. This action seemed to give the smaller captain a sort of courage and he smirked at the blonde in what he obviously thought was an intimidating manner. He took a few more steps back and then stepped right on to Ace's bloody back.

The next cry brought forth an emotion the phoenix thought he had long since buried. Deep and utter loathing. The kind that burned people from the inside out and drove them to do things others would never even think of doing. And the laughter the man let out? It made Marco want to do onto him as he knew the man did to Ace.

Before the blonde could even think about attacking him his red-headed brother landed next to him on the ship. His eyes were blazing with the anger that was mirrored in Marco's own blue eyes. But Thatch wasn't like him. He didn't have silent anger. Mostly because it was so difficult to get him angry in the first place, but if Marco's anger was like a bubbling pit of lava, Thatch's was a raging inferno, set to destroy everything in his path.

"How. Dare. You."

The chef's voice was deep and filled to the brim with anger and hate and hurt. For the marines, for the captain, and for Ace. His emotions were just pulsing off him in layers and Marco didn't have a moment to recollect himself from the shock of feeling the normally jovial man's hat, before the red-head pushed off from the deck and kicked the man stepping on Ace in the head. The captain's body flying through the air to crash into the cabins.

A pained yelp from Ace redirected the seething phoenix back to the important task at hand. Getting Ace off this ship filled with enemies, and getting him healed.

He stepped silently towards the teen, his talons and wings shifting back into his human parts by the time he was standing over Ace. He was still shaking, trembling like a leaf in the wind, and it drew Marco's eyes to the shorts around his knees. He wasn't going to let the teen be humiliated like this anymore so he reached down, planning on pulling the shorts up to give him some decency back.

The teen started to crawl away as Marco bent over to touch the shorts, it wasn't something the phoenix ever wanted to see. He reached out his fire racing across his arms as he tried to coat himself in something familiar to the teen. He had just touched the shorts, prepared to pull them up as fast as possible.

The scream the ripped from Ace's throat stopped Marco in his tracks. It was filled with pain and fear, desperation and hate. The teen's voice should never be filled with such dark emotions. Marco snatched his hand away fast at that painful scream, hoping to calm the youth that way, but Ace started pulling himself with his arms, crying out with every movement. Something must be broken there.

Ace just sort of gave up at that point, tears streaming down his cheeks, gasping for breath, and trying in vain to somehow protect himself from further harm. Marco had to clench his teeth to stop himself from yelling at Ace that he had nothing to fear, not from him, never from him. But he knew that was a horrible idea, the teen wasn't in any sort of position to be yelled at. It wasn't his fault.

Marco reached down again, hiding his sadness as Ace flinched from his touch but otherwise didn't move. He'd given up. The slouched position gave it away and this was when Marco was forever grateful that they had made it here when they did. He didn't know if it was early enough to stop the teen from being violated, but it was early enough to stop him from breaking completely.

This time the phoenix powered through his emotions, pulling the shorts up and securing them around the injured youth, taking his time to exam the slashes along his back as he did so. They were made with some tool that bound blades together. A whip or something like that, judging from the patterns he could barely see below the layers of peeled flesh. Just one more thing to put on his list of things to kill all these marines for.

His eyes travelled up the torn back, looking for some place to put his hands to turn Ace over. There really wasn't anywhere for him to hold the teen without hurting him in some way. The scratches covered his back almost completely, save for two very small patches on his shoulders. Obviously whoever whipped him was going for damage and not coverage.

Marco placed his arm lightly across Ace's shoulders, flipping him lightly and holding on so as to not let him touch the dirty deck floor. The cleaner he could keep the wounds the less work the nurses will have. It was when he flipped the fire user over that he felt his anger start to come back in waves.

His chest was littered with small circular burn scars. Cigarette burn scars covered so much of his front, marring those perfect muscles. And his face. They had attacked his face, if the large bruise forming on his jaw was anything to go by. If it was that big now, he could only imagine how much of his face it would cover come morning.

It took all he had to keep himself still, and helping the injured teen and not rushing after every single marine that even smelt a dash like Ace and killing them all in slow and painful ways. Sea gods knew he wanted to maim and kill every single one of them but Ace was more important. As soon as Ace was safe in the infirmary, then he would come back and wreak the havoc he so desired to.

Quickly he placed his arms under Ace's knees, taking care to examine the teen's lower body, trying to decide why he didn't just get up and run. The discoloration and the bruises prominent on the Ace's small ankles answered Marco's question, someone had broken them to make sure the kid would stay where he was. Either as a precaution or he had tried to escape and it was a punishment. Out of the two, Marco dearly wished it was the latter.

Still he wrapped Ace up in his arms and stood, stressing a little at the cry the teen had let out. He didn't hurt him did he? Was there some other injury to his legs he simply didn't notice? Was he not careful enough?

He pretended the youngster in his arms was made of glass, holding him lightly but firmly, trying to decide what made the teen cry out. At that point the sea gods must have decided to hate Marco because a particularly large wave hit the vessel, throwing him off balance enough that he had to take a heavy step forwards, Ace tottering in his grip slightly.

It was a surprise when the teen swung his cuffed arms up and over his head, holding on to him almost for dear life. It was a nice feeling. And even nicer one when Ace pressed against his chest, apparently disregarding his injuries in order to get closer to Marco.

The tears that flowed from the teen's eyes shortly after made the phoenix want to cuddle Ace in his arms always, protecting him and guarding him, in a way only he could do properly. And almost in accordance to Marco's thoughts, the teen slumped, seemingly well aware that he was safe and protected.

The man responded by releasing some of his feathers, the flames caressing and cocooning Ace in their loving embrace, intent on keeping him here with them forever. Not that Marco was particularly complaining about that, he'd love to have the fiery teen with him forever. Especially after the moan he let out after feeling the flames.

He must be missing his own. First things first when back on the Moby, remove the damn seastone shackles on the teen's wrists. The gods knew how horrible it was to wear those blasted things, especially when they were on someone who should be free, like Ace. But that moan worried him. What if he was hurt somewhere and the flames touched it?

He bent his head down close to Ace's head, wanting to check to make sure that he was, in fact, okay, and was surprised by the teen nuzzling up to him, almost purring as he rubbed their cheeks together. He didn't expect the tears that followed either, but that was okay. He deserved the chance to let all the pain out in some sort of healthy way that didn't involve maiming the perpetrators.

It was as he was pulling his head back that he caught a glimpse of what he really wanted to see. Not the teen whole but broken, not the skin, nor the hair, or the clothes. No. Marco wanted to see those unique hazy grey eyes. The ones that even though they were unseeing, could still see through everything around him.

The sight of those eyes soothed Marco in a way no one else would ever be able to. Just looking into the gorgeous irises, gazing into them, prompted the phoenix inside to sing to a lighter tune, no longer wanting to cry out a war song for revenge.

A large smile splitting its way across the ebony-haired teen made Marco squeeze him, hug him with all the strength he could because he did it. He had Ace. He was okay.

He practically chanted those words to himself as he took the first step towards the Moby, ignoring Thatch and Izou as they corralled the marines into one place. He was completely focused on the teen in his arms and the tears that fell on his jacket. He was going to get Ace back to the Moby, free him of those blasted shackles, and then take him to the infirmary where hopefully the nurses will be able to tell him the extent of the damages.

He kept walking, blankly putting Ace's gestures to the back of his mind to think on later, he only wanted to get him to the Moby. That was the first step, and they couldn't get to the all-important healing step without being on the large ship.

Marco barely hesitated when he reached the railing of the marine vessel, more focused on making sure that Ace was secure and wouldn't jostle too much as he made his way over to the awaiting crew up on the main deck. After that it was just a quick jump to the Moby.

Ace hugged him tighter as he landed. Going as far as to nuzzle his head into Marco's thicker neck, a soft cry being released as he did so, a soft cry the phoenix could easily identify as one of gratitude and safety. So he did the only thing he could think of and he rubbed the teen's head with his own chin, careful not to touch the bruise on his face.

He lent down further after comforting his passenger, mouthing over the shell of Ace's ear, leaning close enough to tell the teen something that would calm him down immensely, maybe even put him to sleep.

"We all came for you. You're safe now. We've got you."

Marco started walking a little at that point, smiling when the soft snores of Ace answered him. Good. This meant the teen would be sleeping while Marco worked on releasing him from those blasted cuffs and then proceeding to beat the shit out of every single marine on that vessel.

His thoughts were filled with anger and rage again, no longer having the pretty teen awake to distract him from his anger. Marco called Haruta over loudly, knowing if anyone could pick the locks of the seastone cuffs, it'd be her.

To his utter surprise she was already there by his side, her tools held tightly in each hand and her face an expression of calmed anger. It was an odd look for her but Marco wouldn't say it was misplaced. She looked like a vengeful goddess. Good.

"Can you pick them?" he asked urgently, holding Ace in such a way that the skilled lock pick could have a good hold on the wrists without hurting the teen further. She gave him a look in response that clearly said, 'Of course I can, you idiot.'

Marco decided this was probably a good time to check what the rest of the family was doing, considering his focus had been getting Ace to safety the last few minutes. He let his eyes wander from the sleeping face of his the teen he was slowly falling for and instead looked over the deck of the Moby.

It was a flurry of activity; cannons being loaded and aimed, a few members making their way towards him and Ace, Pops standing by the railing, looking down on the marine ship with a look of anger. Those marines were not going to make it off that ship alive. Not with the amount of anger present on the face of every single Whitebeard pirate.

From there his gaze travelled to the other deck, the one full of the marines who thought they could harm their youngest and get away with it. To his shock and surprise it only took Thatch and Izou to round the whole crew up into a single crowd in the middle of the deck. Izou in particular seemed to strike fear into the hearts of the marines. It made him briefly wonder what he did to scare those navy bastards so thoroughly.

All those thoughts were expelled from his mind as the teen in his arms let out a loud cry, echoing across both ships, stopping all movement. Next thing he knew Ace's delicious fire spread out from the younger, coating the deck in flames and even reaching across the ocean to caress against Thatch and Izou.

It was a wonder to the whole crew, having only been touched briefly by those flames. They had never felt what he, Thatch, and Izou had. The love and affections those flames carried, the protection it offered freely, the care that was taken to not hurt any of them. The family's faces were all now one of wonderment, each looking at the figure in Marco's lap with unconditional adoration.

Marco himself looked down at Ace, curious to see why he might have woken up, only to see that he was still snoring away, his posture more relaxed now that the seastone cuffs were off. It said something about how exhausted the teen was that he could fall asleep while so uncomfortable.

It also said something for how safe he felt in Marco's arms and in the presence of the family that he was able to fall asleep when still vulnerable. It was something everyone took note of, something they felt pride in. That the once so defensive teen had warmed up to them so much to trust them to take care of him when he couldn't do it himself. It was uplifting.

They started moving with a renewed vigor, paying careful attention to not trod over the flames sporadically coating the deck. It seemed now that they felt them and the emotions they carried they were going to treat them like a direct extension of Ace, much how Pops did on his first contact with them.

The flames started to retreat at that point, caressing everyone it came in contact with once more before returning to Ace. It fluttered around him, close to Marco, pressing up against him and calling his phoenix to the surface. Marco followed its wants, letting his arms shift slightly, only coating them with the blue fire and not transforming them fully into wings.

The teen's fire responded positively to the change by expanding to cover him completely; covering him in a warm red fire blanket, one that made the phoenix inside positively sing. It felt like home. Being wrapped so tightly in Ace's fire, it called to him, reacted to him, loved him. It made Marco want to shift completely into his other form and just bask, to enjoy the feeling fire gave him every time he changed into a phoenix.

But Ace's fire was different from all the other fires he burnt in. No fire had ever been able to make Marco feel like this while he was still a man. They called to him, sure, but none of them ever made the phoenix feel as if he had to turn that second and melt into the flames that flickered and tickled at his skin. It was a feeling he was sure he'd grow to enjoy.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, tilting his head back as he fully gave in to the feeling of that fire. His breaths came slowly, rhythmically releasing and taking in air. He felt so at peace.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he opened his eyes again, gazing into the ever blue of the sky above. There weren't any clouds up there. Completely empty of any fluffy fliers. It brought a new sense of duty to Marco. Ace was safe, now it was time for him to be avenged.

He tilted his head down, gazing one last time at the beautiful face of the sleeping teen, reaching a hand out to brush his black hair away from those breathtaking eyes. Ace needed to go to the infirmary, but Marco needed to show these marines why no one messes with their family. Especially not their youngest.

Marco glanced up, spotting Vista nearby, running to and from the railing and Pops, obviously relaying to the old man what Thatch and Izou were doing. Well he could get someone else to do it.

"Vista!"

The mustached man turned around instantly, looking at Marco with surprise lightly sprinkled across his visage. He obviously didn't expect to be called while he was doing something for Pops, but he started heading towards Marco anyway. Probably thought it was something really important if the first mate would pull him away from the captain.

"Can I help you, commander?"

The Moby was in battle mode, titles being used, and formalities being followed, when normally the Whitebeards didn't bother. That's fine. Made this easier for Marco to ask.

"Please take Ace to the infirmary, and stay with him until either I come to you or he wakes up, in which case please come get me." Marco kept himself polite and tight, knowing that it would get through to Vista just how upset he was at the moment. It was not something he did often, in fact he can only remember two other times he slipped into such a tone.

Judging by the swift way Vista nodded and held out his arms, the man obviously understood the urgency in Marco's voice and movements. Good. The phoenix handed the teen off only a little reluctantly, wanting to stay with him while the nurses gave him a look over, but also wanting to get the revenge the teen deserved. This was for the best.

Marco watched as Vista carried the delicate looking teen towards the stairs leading down into the cabins, and further on into the infirmary no doubt. But he turned away as soon as he could no longer see Vista's tall top hat.

It was if a switch had been pulled at that point. Nothing was stopping him now. Not from the overwhelming amount of anger that had been piling up in him since he discovered Ace on the deck of the marine ship. Now he could let it out. Let them witness the anger of the phoenix.

He stood from his position, twisting around to glare at the railing like it offended him. One foot was placed in front of the other, and he was on his way. Stalking towards the other boat like a predator, visions filtering through his head of all the ways he could force the marines to go through the same pain Ace had dealt with.

He was on the other deck in moments, his fire fluttering along his arms and shoulders, a physical manifestation of his anger and hate. His eyes were glaring holes into every single marine on that boat, taking special care to spend extra time glaring at the man decked out in the uniform of the captain. He was the one standing over Ace. He was the one who was going to get it the worst.

"This is his hair…"

Izou's voice echoed across the deck, and Marco looked over at the man where he was squatting down, touching something on the floor.

"What was that, hun?" Thatch spoke quietly, his voice still carrying across the air to everyone present due to the sudden silence from both ships. The phoenix took a moment to swallow the fact that Izou and Thatch were now close enough to use nicknames like that.

The okama twirled around, anger alight on his face. He looked like an evil spirit. With how upset he was and the look on his face, if Marco wasn't as upset as he was he would have been scared of him. He held up a dainty hand, clutched in it was a bundle of dark ebony hair, just long enough to reach over either side of the fist that held it. Cut hairs.

"YOU CUT HIS HAIR!" the sixteenth commander yelled out, his voice halting all movements on the Moby Dick, every single family member watching the goings on on the marine ship.

"Babe, calm down, you-"

"DON'T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!" Izou yelled, whipping his head around to face Thatch, his anger still entirely present and the chef responded by throwing his arms up in a placating gesture and backing off a little. The normally sweet commander was well past angry, and both Marco and Thatch knew to back off when he got like this.

Noticing that Marco and Thatch were giving him space, Izou once again flipped around to glare at the marines all nestled against the cabin walls of their boat. They were terrified of the feminine man, and no Whitebeard pirate would blame them, Izou looked ridiculously terrifying right now.

"This was his protection! This was how he kept himself safe! And you assholes CUT IT OFF!"

He drew one of his pistols from the holster on his left hip and fired it at one of the crew members, getting him right in the side of the throat. It wasn't a miss, Izou aimed for that specific spot because he knew that that was the spot where the man would have the most pain as he bled out.

Not a single one of the marines moved to help their fallen comrade and it made every single pirate present curl their lips in disgust. And the navy was supposed to be the path of the righteous. What was so righteous about leaving a fallen crew mate to die?

Surprisingly Izou still didn't look satisfied, and as he was aiming at another person a blonde guy in the back spoke up.

"Come on, ya blighters! It was just some bloody hair! Big deal!" oh this guy was asking to get dead.

Izou seemed to have the same mindset because he marched right in to the mob of marines, grabbed the taller, broader, blonde by his own hair and pulled him out to center deck. He wasn't being particularly careful and it wasn't more apparent until the okama through the man on the floor, some of his light hair staying in Izou's grasps. That had to have hurt.

Marco moved over to stand by Thatch's side as they let this vindictive version of their friend, in Thatch's case maybe more than friend, deal the punishment he felt fit to the crime.

Izou had always liked Ace's hair, didn't care for the way he hid his eyes, but he loved the teen's smooth ebony locks. To him, cutting it was an attack on the other's person, on his confidence, and on his hiding method. It was how he hid his eyes from the world, keeping them behind that veil of black fringe. It was a slight worthy of death, in the man's mind.

"You must have been the one to cut it then." Izou spoke calmly, his gun trained steadily on the rugged man's chest. The guy was just about shaking in his boots as he looked up the barrel of one of the okama's favored pistols. But he still seemed to think he had some control of this confrontation because when he spoke again his voice was still saturated with arrogance.

"So what if I did. The fag was hidin' somethin'. I was just, ah, given him incentive to share with the group, aye, lads?" he obviously expected his crew to say something judging by his shocked glance back at them when only silence met his words.

Izou didn't wait though. He shot the bragging blonde in the left shoulder, right under the clavicle bone. The screams that the man let out reached each Whitebeard pirate and caused them to smirk, all approving of the kimono-clad man's use of force.

"I was just sayin' facts! Why dya shoot me!" the man screamed again, clutching the wound with his right hand, obviously trying to staunch blood flow. Well he couldn't have been too stupid if he knew how to react to a gunshot wound. Izou didn't seem to care, just moved his pistol and shot the man in the right thigh, blood spurting out and arching across the deck, leaving a rather nasty trail of blood.

This time though Izou didn't let the man scream, just took a breath before shooting the blonde in the abdomen, right above his hip. Barely hesitating as he shot the left ear clean off the man's head.

The marine was a bloody mess. Rolling over the deck trying to clutch at all his wounds at once. The man was going to die. With all those holes and no way to stop the blood flow, it was just a matter of time before he stopped breathing entirely. But that wasn't enough for the okama.

He took a step closer to the gasping bleeding man, kneeling down and placing the muzzle of his gun right on the ribcage. Knowing Izou like Marco did, it was most likely placed between ribs. The man was aiming to deflate the lung, his preferred method of killing someone. The feminine man wanted people to know that he killed this one, that's why he was killing him in his signature manner. He wanted the wound to be a sign that said "Yes! Sixteenth Commander Izou killed this one!"

A slight sigh was the only sign before he pulled the trigger.

Izou stood back up, looking down on the now gasping man on the deck, his eyes showing no remorse or even a little guilt. He even went as far to step on the man's face with his geta.

"You still haven't suffered enough for the pain you caused my Ace. But it's good enough, you cur."

Marco didn't noticed Thatch moving until he was right behind the angry okama, larger arms wrapping around his chest, pulling him into a hug; he was too focused on the fact Izou called Ace his, and wondering what the other man meant by that. The chef covered the slighter man's eyes and lent down to whisper into the other's ear. Whatever he said seemed to calm the sharpshooter down a bit from the ledge he was on, and Thatch pulled him back towards were Marco was still standing.

The blonde stopped moving at that point, his eyes staring blankly at a spot on the deck; one with a dark red stain. The place where Ace was laying in his own blood and fluids when Marco rescued him. Well at least the marine died with regret.

"What are you criminals getting so upset about? It was just hair."

It was a faceless marine in a huge crowd of them that spoke, but still Izou got angry, completely prepared to shoot another one of them to death. His other pistol was still full, so Marco wouldn't put it past him. But the phoenix didn't want to watch his brother do something like that again to such worthless trash, so the blonde stuck a hand out, stopping the man in his tracks.

This time it was Marco that stepped forward. His head raised and firm, well aware of all eyes on him, both marine and pirate. And vaguely in his mind he apologized to Ace, but he knew it would only be a matter of time before the information he was about to share would come out. The teen probably didn't want to hide from his family, not anymore, and not after he let his fire out to touch every crew member.

"You think you are strong." His voice was flat, no emotion, no tone variation, no sign of actually belonging to a human.

The captain snorted at the statement, almost laughing out loud. Marco didn't doubt the other thought it was a hilarious statement. He attacked a member of the Whitebeard pirates, knowingly. Ace wasn't wearing a shirt, so there was no way this idiotic marine could have missed the large Jolly Roger on the teen's back. So they attacked, cuffed, and tortured Ace while they knew which crew he belonged to. They had to think they were strong if they thought they could get away with that.

"The injuries on that toy proves that we are strong."

Marco's eyebrow twitched violently at the man calling Ace a toy, but he kept his cool, knowing that his revenge would be over as soon as he lost control of his anger. The man was just trying to back up his words with false bravado. He'd come crumbling down soon enough.

"You tortured a pirate while he was chained. How is that power? How is that strength?" Marco asked, actually curious as to how the captain would answer the question. Mostly because he wanted to know how they did catch Ace.

"Hah. He was the arrogant one. He did not think a bullet could hurt him, did not even try to dodge it. Or the second one after he realized we could shoot him."

Seastone bullets? Since when did the navy start creating seastone bullets? Marco's next words came out without any filtering, the phoenix didn't even stop to think about what he was saying.

"That's because he couldn't see it."

"What?" the captain looked confused, brown eyebrows knitting, green eyes sparking with a curiosity Marco himself often felt. Well that meant they didn't know Ace was blind then.

"You feel powerful and strong, because you took down a Whitebeard pirate." Thatch spoke instead of the blonde first mate. Probably a good idea because he was a bit addled at the moment, trying to think about whether or not this was the right course of action.

"Of course! What marine wouldn't!"

Marco stopped holding back at that point and punched the man right in the face, not holding back any of his strength as he did so. His mind stopped working at that point, the only thing he knew for sure was that he had to keep punching this, this beast. Had to give this man the punishment Ace couldn't. How dare he?! HOW DARE HE?!

"You think you're strong! You think you're tough!" He punched him in the stomach, causing blood to spray out his mouth. The captain made to drop to the floor but Marco held onto him by his jacket, keeping him upright with his left hand as he continued to do damage with his right.

"You weakened him with seastone! SEASTONE BULLETS!" A right hook to the captain's jaw, followed by left-right jabs to the abdomen before Marco had to catch the man by his collar. He followed up with a knee into the stomach, causing the other man to puke a little. It didn't bother the phoenix at all, he was too far gone in his revenge plot now.

"You took it away from him!" A roundhouse kick to the head with a half transformed talon caused the beaten man to fly a ways away on the deck. All eyes were on the blond first mate as he stalked his way over to the bloody and bruised brunet , his feet both changing into that of the large talons of his phoenix side. Blue fire flicked along his arms as he reached the downed man, reaching down with flamed hands to lift the captain into the air.

"You took his fire! You left him vulnerable!" Marco slammed his forehead right into the other's nose, smirking maliciously as he pulled back and noticed it was broken. Good. More pain for the man to go through. Ace had to go through so much more and he couldn't see during the whole thing. Nothing Marco did to this captain, or to any of the other marines will ever make up for the hell the fire using teen was sure to have gone through.

"You took away his safety!" His voice was harsh now, gravely and hoarse. He wasn't used to talking this much to someone, let alone this loudly. Marco couldn't even remember the last time he was yelling so loudly. Sure he got aggravated at Haruta's pranks but he never raised his voice this high, not even with the horrible bird insults Thatch came up with.

"Marco…" speak of the devil. The chef's hand was placed warmly on the broad shoulder of the first division commander. The phoenix's mind cleared slightly at the sound of his brother's soothing tones. Maybe the reason he hated the bird jokes so much was because the phoenix really liked the sound of Thatch's voice but was too prideful to say anything about it. Maybe he'd tell him one day that his phoenix wanted to peck his eyes out for some of the insults the chef had spouted.

"Don't stop me, Thatch." Marco murmured. His voice was quieter, but no doubt still carrying to the ear of every single family member on the Moby Dick's deck. But that was okay with the blonde. They were family. They deserved to know why what these marines did to Ace was so unforgivable; beyond the obvious of him being a Whitebeard son and under the protection of all of them.

"I wasn't going to stop you, brother." Well that was a sign of Thatch's sincerity. The man never called anyone by the title 'brother' unless he really wanted to show his support or give them some advice. Marco hoped it'd be the former. He didn't want any advice right now.

"Just don't kill him too soon. Keep going as you were and we wouldn't have made him suffer for what he did to Ace."

That made sense to Marco. Too much internal bleeding would end the captain's punishment long before it was due. No more punching then. Pity too. The man was an excellent punching bag.

"You, and your crew, felt strong and powerful attacking a bound pirate." Marco stated, shaking the slightly dozing captain in his arms. The man wouldn't die until the Whitebeard family delivered enough punishment. And he was nowhere near completing his sentence.

"Not only that…" Marco started, dragging the half conscious man back to the rest of the marines, his voice raising so that every single person could hear him. It didn't matter if this crowd of navy cronies knew Ace's secret, they were all going to die anyway. The only guilt he felt about sharing this secret was that it was the teen's to share, and he wouldn't get to do that because of these fuckheads.

"You got OFF on beating and torturing a disabled sailor!"

There was barely a breath of pause before Marco continued shouting. Letting all present hear the wrongs the marine crew had committed. Letting them know what cowards they were, how pathetic they were, and how weak they were. All with one sentence.

"He's blind, asshole!"

TBC

HAHA~ I really love cliffhangers~ don't you?

Now this ain't a plot to get y'all to review but I just wanted to let y'all know that I accidentally put in a sort of quote from one of my all-time favorite Christmas movies~ (I was watching it as I wrote some of this actually~) and whoever can guess the movie and the quote will get to choose a scenario for me to write during the next cut scene chapter (no idea when that is…but it'll be coming~) and it can be anything~ (except smut between MarcoAce or a confession scene cause that's not a cut scene~) it could be a Thatch x Izou moment, some parental Whitebeard, other crew interactions, a scene with one of my OCs, just about anything~ but I highly doubt any of you will find it but I figured I'd give y'all the benefit of the doubt~

With that out of the way~ TATA! I shall see y'all next time my sweets~ and again feel free to ask me any questions, or concerns~ I will try and answer them to the utmost of my abilities!