Warning: Dark chapter. Miscommunication. Mistaken(?) for attempted suicide. Not graphic, no blood.
ROTGOPROTGOP
Chapter Fourteen: Depression
The ocean was beautiful at night. It was beautiful during the day as well, but beneath the moonlight the sea held a different kind of beauty that Jack could appreciate. The Winter Spirit stood at his usual perch on the deck of the Revolutionary's boat, preferring the drowsy outside world to the cramped depths of the vessel.
He had spent many a night sitting outside beneath the moon before becoming a Guardian. He usually talked to Tsar Lunar about what he had done that day or asked questions about his purpose and wondered why the Man in the Moon had left him alone.
But even back then he had loved the night, how the snow shone beneath the moonlight and the sky was filled with luminous stars. In Jack's opinion though, it was out at sea that a clear night sky looked best, the giant orb above having just enough light to reflect on the water. Like the sunlight, the moonlight would dance, swaying and shifting with the waves. Unlike under the light of the sun, however, the moonlight-filled water carried a hint of mystery. The bright whiteness contrasted sharply with the water that looked black, making the reflection seem even more vibrant than its daytime counterpart.
It was quiet and calming, and Jack found himself smiling even though he was surrounded by darkness. This was not a darkness to fear or hate after all, the moon providing just enough light to chase away any worries the shadows may bring.
The Guardian reached up and gripped the skull-like medallion that lay against his chest, feeling the slight weight of Ace's orange cowboy hat against his back. Even now the hat was a reminder of what he lost and what he was trying to find, but the distant hopelessness that his search was futile had been replaced by a low, forceful determination.
Regardless of the circumstances surrounding the information, they now had a way to locate Ace. They were that much closer to finding him. Jack chose to concentrate on the positive instead of the negative, because he was honestly sick of constantly worrying. Something good had finally happened, and as a generally cheerful person it was the Guardian's decision to be happy about it. To focus on the approaching reunion instead of the reason for it. To fixate on one brother instead of the other. To be joyful instead of afraid.
If only his companions could do the same.
Footsteps sounded behind Jack but he did not turn, leaning on the railing as he observed the tranquility of the open ocean.
"Shouldn't you be asleep?" the Winter Spirit asked quietly.
"Shouldn't you?" Sabo retorted in a raspy voice.
Jack glanced at him, eyebrows inching up his forehead. The Revolutionary did not look well. His hair was noticeably ruffled, his eyes had dark smudges beneath them, and he looked like a soft breath of wind would knock him over. The Guardian frowned at the blonde man, eyes narrowing in a way rather reminiscent of Bunny.
"I took a nap a couple days ago. I'm good." He looked the Logia up and down. "I'm all for no curfews, but you look like you could use a day of sleep. Or ten."
"Can't sleep." Sabo grunted. "Already tried."
Jack released a puff of air, watching the breath fog the air in front of him. "Let me guess. You're worried about Luffy."
"Why would you ever think such a thing?" Sabo snarked.
"You and Ace always get twitchy when Luffy is in danger." The Guardian commented. "And since Ace isn't here to be snippy, you're being snippy for him. Aren't you supposed to be the calm one?"
Exhausted blue eyes peered at him. "Can you blame me? Luffy ran into Pitch, found Ace, left him imprisoned, and is now going back to Pitch to rescue Ace. If I'd had an inkling that Luffy knew where Ace was, I would have just met with him instead of revealing his survival over the Den Den. Now our little brother is running off to fight the Nightmare King!"
"You had no way to predict…" Jack began, but the Logia ignored him.
Sabo began pacing back and forth, throwing his hands up in the air as he fretted. "Even worse, he isn't answering my Den Den calls, and he isn't calling back. I don't know if the signal has been blocked or if he's just ignoring me. And even if I did talk to him, he wouldn't wait. Did I mention that Luffy is walking right into a trap?"
"Pitch won't expect them. And we might reach Luffy before he returns to the island." The Guardian soothed optimistically.
"I doubt it." Sabo revealed. He took his brother's vivre card out of his coat, shoving the wiggling paper in the Winter Spirit's face. "The whole time we've been sailing, Luffy has been heading towards us. Unless my brother has had the biggest personality change in the cosmos, he's likely heading towards the mystery island, which is somewhere between our locations. It's probable that he will reach it before we reach him."
The Revolutionary took in a shuddering breath. "He met Pitch before but somehow escaped. Now he's trying his luck again. I don't know how Luffy got out last time, but this time Pitch will be ready for him. Not to mention that he isn't above using Ace as a hostage to stop Luffy from fighting…"
It was unnerving to see the normally calm Fire Logia be so panicked, though it made sense since his dear little brother was in danger. The Winter Spirit himself was surprisingly nonchalant about the whole thing. Perhaps he and Sabo had switched roles for the week, with the Guardian providing level-headed support while the technically younger man freaked out. Or maybe it was because they now had a way to find Ace and locate Pitch, so Jack's main source of stress had shrunk to a more manageable size.
Either way, Jack watched as the Revolutionary paced back and forth, back igniting every few steps. Sabo abruptly turned, grabbing the Winter Spirit's shoulders so tightly he could feel the Logia's fingers through his hoodie.
"I'm supposed to protect Luffy. I'm his big brother. But here I am, chasing after him helplessly so he doesn't try to fight a maniac alone. For all we know, we could be half a world away from him. We might not make it in time. What if he gets hurt? What if he gets captured? What if he—?"
"If you're going to panic so loudly, could you please wait until morning?"
Jack and Sabo glanced at Koala, who stumbled out of the door leading below deck. She was dressed for the day, but her hair was mussed beneath her cap and her clothes were slightly rumpled. She yawned and rubbed at her eyes, looking at her partner irritably before transferring her gaze to the Guardian.
"You don't know this because you don't go below deck much, but this idiot has been insufferable since Luffy hung up on him." Koala told him vehemently, as if her circumstances were Jack's fault. "He spends his nights stomping around his room and fretting like a mother hen instead of sleeping." Her glare returned to the blonde Logia. "I thought I'd be able to rest for an hour because you went up here but I can still hear you."
"Sorry." Sabo said briskly, looking one second away from pulling his hair out. "I tried to sleep but… it didn't go well."
Something in his tone caught Jack's attention. "What do you mean?"
The Revolutionary sighed, pressing a hand over his eyes. "It's just the usual nightmares with a few twists. Though now they usually involve Luffy and Pitch."
The Guardian stilled.
It's just a coincidence, he told himself. Don't add unnecessary paranoia to your list of problems. Not all nightmares are caused by Pitch. Of course Sabo would have bad dreams after all the stuff that happened. It's mundane, and normal, and not supernaturally-originated in the slightest.
"I don't like the expression you're wearing." The Revolutionary commented warily. "What's wrong now?"
"Oh, I'm just being a little overly wary." Jack deflected. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really." Sabo declined, ignoring Koala's disapproving glower.
The intense stare went to Jack, who raised his hands defensively. What did I do? I'm not going to push him for answers. He's your partner!
The orange-haired woman's eyes flashed dangerously and the Guardian sighed in exasperation.
Fine. "When did these nightmares start?"
The blonde Revolutionary said nothing. Koala cuffed him upside the head. The Logia met his partner's dark gaze and decided it was not worth it.
"Shortly after Luffy hung up on me." Sabo grumbled with a sigh. He managed to shoot the two a disarming smile. "It's nothing. Just stress, I'm sure."
"Right." Jack breathed, relaxing slightly.
Koala made an unhappy clicking noise with her tongue, shaking her head. "That's not right. You were fine until we stopped at that little island for more supplies. We didn't get enough for the trip because we got chased out of town, remember?"
Sabo blinked, then frowned. "That's true. How odd."
Jack's paranoia slinked back into the forefront of his mind, and he found himself glancing around at the shadows warily, gripping his staff.
Crrraaaaaaacccccccckkkkkk!
The sound of wood splintering reached their ears, ripping through the air like a gunshot. Three heads turned in the direction of the harsh noise, and Sabo gave a soft curse as he dashed to the back of the ship. It took a moment for the humans' eyes to adjust, but Jack could immediately see the problem.
"Damn it!" he shouted, blasting the Nightmare with ice.
The black horse froze and fell into the ocean with a loud splash, but even in the darkness Jack could already see the damage was done. What used to be a rudder was now a mangled mess, the top half of the plank of wood floating away from the ship.
Because of its sandy nature, the Nightmare had only been able to attack the part of the rudder above the water, but the Guardian could see that the creature had succeeded in nearly pulling the entire part off of the boat. As Jack, Sabo, and Koala watched, the remains of the rudder were pulled away by the waves, the metal attachments sinking while the rest lingered on the surface.
Sabo was the one to break the silence. "You have got to be kidding me."
Koala dashed off, calling for Hack, while Jack swooped down to survey the damage more closely. He scowled unhappily at the place where the hinges had once been, relieved that a hole had not been torn in the ship. If the circumstances and participant had been different, the Winter Spirit might have applauded the horse-like creature with no hands for removing the rudder so relatively cleanly.
The Guardian flew up and landed next to Sabo. "I'm no shipwright, but I'm pretty sure we're not going anywhere anytime soon." He informed him grimly.
The Revolutionary clenched smoldering hands. "How long do you think that Nightmare has been following us?"
"How long have you been having nightmares again?" Jack asked darkly.
Sabo put his face in his hands. "I thought we would have noticed if one of those was near us." He moaned. His head snapped up and he looked at the Guardian with horror. "How do they communicate with Pitch?"
"As far as I know? Telepathy. Range probably depends on his strength, and Pitch is pretty strong right now." The Guardian revealed after a moment's consideration.
His stomach twisted uncomfortably, and it took him a while to identify the reason for his sudden bout of terror. When comprehension formed, Jack met Sabo's equally terrified gaze.
"Pitch just marooned you here intentionally, didn't he?" the Guardian whispered.
"Probably."
"He's been spying on us for weeks."
"Most likely."
"And we were just talking about…"
"Luffy heading back to Pitch's island, yes." Sabo said shakily.
The two older brothers looked at each other with guilt and fear, the realization of what they had done hitting both with the force of a speeding train. In a place they had believed it was safe, they had openly discussed what should have been kept quiet. Through no fault of their own, they had taken their brother's secret mission and hand-delivered it to the enemy, removing one of the very few advantages the pirate had over the Nightmare King.
It was Jack who finally put their failure into words.
"Pitch knows Luffy is coming back."
ROTGOPROTGOP
He had done it. He had finally done it.
Ace stood on a sandy beach, wide eyes caught by two familiar shapes just ahead. Luffy and Sabo were sitting near the water, back to the fire-user as they watched the sun rise above the horizon. His youngest brother had his straw hat placed proudly on his head, while his blonde brother wore the familiar top hat Ace thought he would never see again. The Summer Spirit felt a rush of emotion as he watched them, a smile almost able to come to his lips, and he mutely mouthed their names.
He had found them. He had found two of his brothers.
I… I did it.
It took him a while, but slowly identified the warm feeling he felt that made him want to laugh, dance, and grin. Happy. He was happy. It was such a foreign emotion to the drained Summer Spirit, but Ace decided he liked it.
The fire-user took a calming breath, then another, refusing to let his fears take hold as he walked slowly towards his brothers. They could hate him. They could reject him. They could despise and hurt and kill him. But it would be okay, because Ace had finally found them. He would finally let them know he was alive, and no matter what they did he would love and protect them.
He would have something to live for again.
A hand clapped over Ace's mouth as an arm wrapped around his waist, pinning his hands to his sides. The hand was suffocating and the arm was knives and claws against his flesh, and the fire-user writhed in pain. Happiness vanished like a torch into an abyss.
Ace panicked, thrashing in his captor's hold, but they kept him contained easily, as if he were as strong as a tiny flower when compared to them. The fire-user tried to scream even though he was physically incapable of crying out, but he was unable to make the slightest sound as he was dragged backwards. He felt warm, sticky blood gather in his mouth due to his futile efforts, the taste of metal coating his tongue.
He was so close. His brothers were right there. He had searched so long, through so many nightmares for them, but he had finally made it. He had finally done the impossible and located Luffy and Sabo.
His fear of losing them again overwhelmed his fear of being hurt by his captors, and he struggled harder, digging his bare heels into the dirt and wiggling with as much force as he could muster. Ace jerked his head back, but his head met the person's chest instead of their nose like he intended.
His captor cursed. "Feisty little bu— Stop— Calm down, Firecracker!"
The accent was odd but distantly familiar. Ace ceased his escape attempts for a moment, turning his head a little and meeting emerald eyes. Although the bright green orbs were the first feature he noticed, the fire-user gradually noted that the… person holding him was not human. He appeared to be a tall rabbit, towering over Ace by nearly a foot. He was accompanied by a winged humanoid and a large old man, both of whom looked at the Summer Spirit in concern.
The… Guardians?
This was not the first time Ace had 'met' them, but they had never looked so detailed before. Toothiana had pink eyes. North had tattoos on his forearms that spelled 'Naughty' and 'Nice'. Bunnymund had dark patches resembling eyebrows above his emerald eyes. Ace found their appearances to be rather fascinating, used to seeing the Guardians only vaguely or in shadows.
His distraction only lasted a minute before he began trying to escape Bunny's hold again. The Pooka shifted his paws so both arms were wrapped around Ace's chest, keeping the Summer Spirit's arms at his sides.
"Sorry, kid. We don't have time. We need to get back to Earth right now. The portal's gonna close."
Ace finally noticed the odd, shimmering distortion in the air. The portal looked like a mirage or window, with what appeared to be warped buildings on the other side. The fire-user did not care however, straining against Bunny's hold and gesturing frantically at Sabo and Luffy.
My brothers are right there. I've been looking for them for so long. They're right there! I won't be able to see them again. We'll be separated forever. Just let me say goodbye at least…
The Guardians did not understand. It was almost like they could not see the humans that were so important to Ace. The humans he would never be able to see again.
"We need to leave. Now." Bunny said urgently.
Ace shook his head violently, throwing his body around in an attempt to break free. The Guardian of Hope refused to release him, dragging the Summer Spirit backwards and away from his brothers. Why were they doing this? Why couldn't he say goodbye? Where was Jack? He would understand. He would stop them. He would reason with them.
I just need to say goodbye. Please, let me say goodbye, Ace begged silently.
The Guardians did not hear him, ignoring his struggles as they pulled him towards the portal. The Summer Spirit jerked in their holds, reaching for his brothers, but they were too far away.
Let me say goodbye. I need to say goodbye. Please, just let me say good—
The ground crumbled away beneath his feet, and Ace fell. He plunged into the darkness, looking up in time to see Sabo hold Luffy back as his little brother reached for the fire-user and desperately screamed his name and—
Ace did not know where he was.
He sat up, glancing around frantically at the unfamiliar room he had woken in. It appeared to be a type of office. He lay on a type of couch, with a chair and low table placed neatly beside him. The chair was occupied by Bay, who brushed a loose lock of hair behind her ear.
"Are you alright, Ace? You fell asleep during our session. Do you remember that?" she asked.
Ace searched his 'memories' and discovered that he most definitely did not. The fire-user reluctantly nodded for the first question and shook his head for the second.
"That's okay." The doctor said gently. "We were talking about what happened to you."
He did not recall. A suspicion settled in his mind, but it was snuffed out when he spotted a notebook and pen on the table. Apparently that was how he had communicated with Bay. Ace had no memory of any of it, but his recollection skills were far beyond unreliable at this point.
"Shall we continue or do you want to start over? Either is perfectly fine." Bay encouraged.
Ace faltered, then wrote Continue on the pad. He did not want to waste the doctor's time any more than he already had.
"Okay then." Bay said. "We were talking about personality traits. You were afraid the sand was making you lose all the good things about you, and that it was taking away what made you 'you'."
Ace looked down at the notebook he held, unnerved by the doctor's astute analysis about his fears. Though, if she had been tasked with trying to help him, maybe he had already opened up to her?
"I know I've said it before, but I won't judge you. And everything you say will stay just between us." Bay said firmly, likely spotting his nerves.
The fire-user swallowed and nodded, not quite able to summon a smile. The doctor notice his efforts and gave him an encouraging grin in return.
" Excellent. Now, write down all of your positive traits. Go on. You can do it." She urged.
Ace stared at the paper blankly. It took a long time for him to think of anything at all. Memories and nightmares jumbled together, making him uncertain of who he was and used to be. He eventually focused on interactions with his brothers and Jack to look for good mannerisms of his.
Brave. Polite. Determined. Intelligent. Protective.
There were more. There had to be more. But Ace could not think of them, his struggling mind unable to look within himself and see something good. Still, he felt some pride that he could muster up five things, and gave the paper to Bay with a small, hopeful smile. She nodded slowly, then abruptly shook her head.
"This is all wrong. If you're determined, why did you give up at Marineford? If you're brave, why didn't you go tell Luffy you were alive? If you're polite, why do you keep ignoring people like an entitled asshole? If you're protective, why did you abandon your brothers? If you're intelligent, why did you turn back to face Akainu?" Bay looked into his eyes, expression stern. "Stop lying to yourself, Ace. You are none of those things."
Ace felt cold.
Bay smiled sweetly. "Now, tell me what you really are."
The bad came so much easier than the good, words flowing onto the page within seconds. Ace felt his eyes begin to sting but he did not let the tears fall.
Selfish. Stubborn. Hot-blooded. Stupid. Impulsive. Violent.
Bay took the paper and studied it before scoffing and shaking her head in disapproval. "You're missing a few. Think really hard about it."
More negative traits came easily to him. Ace's hand shook as he wrote.
Worthless. Useless. Ungrateful. Weak. Pathetic. Unworthy. Broken.
He blinked and saw water droplets fall onto the page. He wrote a final, sloppy word. Crybaby.
Bay nodded in agreement. "That's more like it. You need to be honest with yourself, Ace. That's the first step. Now, let's talk about what you let happen to you, shall we?"
The fire-user looked at her in confusion, attention caught by one word. Let? He wrote.
The doctor sighed, rubbing a hand over her face in frustration. "Don't deny it. You were a Commander. You are a Nature Spirit. You were strong. Pitch could not have captured and infected you unless you let him. You allowed this to happen to you, Ace. It's your fault. I want you to understand that."
Ace could barely see the paper anymore. His writing was jagged and wobbly as his hand shook. Why?
"Because I need you to hate yourself and what you've become so that you can turn into something new." Bay said kindly. "As you are now, you're just a burden and you're not going to get better. All you're doing is dragging other people down with you. Why are you inconveniencing them with your problems?"
I'm sorry, Ace wrote shakily. I'll try to do better.
"Good." She approved. "That's why we're here. Now, let's talk about your brothers, shall we?"
He was writing before he registered that he had put the pen to the page. They love me.
"Perhaps." Bay said in a tone that suggested she did not believe it. "But you don't want to hurt them, do you? If you go back to them, you'll just have to leave again. You'll have to abandon them just like you did when you died, causing them grief and pain all over again. Not to mention that since you're so broken, they'll waste time worrying about you when they should be following their dreams. You'll just hold them back. Isn't that selfish of you?"
Ace could feel something breaking. Like a sand castle facing a tsunami, pieces crumbled away, unable to withstand the forces that sought to tear the foundation apart. Her words repeated in his head, over and over again, chiseling away at his carefully maintained perseverance and leaving widening cracks behind.
The fire-user tried to hold himself together by thinking of his brothers, but the accompanying thought of his presence hurting them made the waves rise higher and he found he could not stay afloat anymore.
I… can't do this, he realized. I can't do this anymore.
He tried counting nightmares. He tried spotting discrepancies in the world around him, relying on things he knew without a doubt to be true as reference. He tried bringing up former conversations to see if other people remembered them. He tried drawing images on his arm to identify where he was waking up. He tried acting normal or apathetic in order to stop his fears from being triggered.
It did not work. None of it helped him determine which world was the real one. It was like looking for a silver needle in a pile of shiny grey ones. Every wrong move resulted in pain and misery. Again and again and again.
A sharp tap on his head made Ace flinch.
"I said, isn't that selfish?" Bay growled.
Ace did not respond. Something numb and empty washed through him, overtaking the fear and sadness and leaving nothing behind. He lay down on the couch, turning so his back was to the doctor, and tuned out her angry demands for an answer. Eventually she got fed up and struck his head, knocking him out or possibly killing him.
In the next nightmare, Luffy died.
Sabo died.
Jack died.
Ace was left alone.
In the world after that, he was abandoned by the Whitebeard Pirates again.
His brothers were killed before he could find them.
The next set of visions ended with him in a lab, taken apart by the World Government to see if they could copy or harness his powers.
It took years, but he bled out eventually.
Another dream where the Guardians shunned him.
Another dream where his crew hated him.
Another dream where Luffy and Sabo blamed him.
Life after life after life.
Death after death after death.
Nightmare after nightmare after nightmare.
"What the hell are you doing? Idiot!"
"You ruin everything!"
"You were trying to 'help'? You call that 'help'? You can't do anything right!"
"You're useless."
"I can't believe how weak you've become."
"You're a disgrace."
"You're not my friend."
"You're not my son."
"You're not my brother."
"We never wanted you."
"Why would anyone love you?"
"I hate you."
"I wish you'd never been born."
"Pathetic."
"Arrogant prick."
"You're a monster."
"Pig-headed fool."
"Stubborn ass."
"Reckless idiot."
"Demon!"
"What the hell was that? He almost died because of you!"
"If you weren't so incompetent, this wouldn't have happened."
"If you want to die so badly, how about you go and off yourself already? Save us the trouble."
"Get out. You're not welcome here."
"Are you crying again? Why are you such a baby?"
"Yeah, just keep feeling bad for yourself. That will fix everything."
"You're so selfish. You think you're the only one suffering? What about what you put us through, huh? First you abandon us, then you come crawling back, and now we have to deal with you and your issues."
"It wasn't that bad, drama queen."
"You're overreacting."
"Get over it already!"
"You're so broken."
"We don't need you."
"What happened to you was entirely your fault."
"Why were you so stupid, Ace? It's your fault that you died."
"You deserved it."
"You never should have come back."
The cycle repeated.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Ace woke in the infirmary.
The fire-user did not cry. He did not punch the wall or rage at the heavens. He did not try to get up. He did not even move. Ace merely stared at the ceiling apathetically with eyes that could barely see it, a strange cloudiness dulling his senses. He physically felt no different than he had not so long ago, but at the same time something was missing.
It doesn't matter. None of it matters.
He wondered if he should be crying. It seemed like he always cried these days, so why wasn't he now? This empty, cold, numb feeling had to be despair, right? So why wasn't he reacting?
I… should try to find my brothers.
The thought was formed more out of habit than out of a desire to see them again. Ace blinked rapidly, but his eyes remained dry.
No I shouldn't, he admitted. If I show myself to them, I'll only cause them more pain. Even if I find them, I'll have to leave again. Either to Earth or through death. Probably through death.
There was still no urge to cry. He just felt tired of it all. Tired and cold.
I guess I really am broken.
His eyes did not even sting.
Ace turned off the machines that tracked his heartbeat before methodically detaching the wires from his body. He had done it enough times to know how to remove the devices without triggering them, thus causing the doctors to be alerted that he was awake. He did not want to face Bay or James or anyone else. They would just pretend to worry for a while or throw away all pretenses and hurt him, like they always did.
I'd deserve it.
The fire-user got to his feet and exited the room. He did not exactly walk, instead drifting through the lower deck of the Moby Dick like a ghost, wandering through the halls without a destination in mind. The crew members he passed did not acknowledge him, but the fire-user could not summon the ability to feel sad about it. He was not worth their time or attention. Instead he carefully inched around the Whitebeard Pirates so as not to disturb them, heading up to the deck.
It was dawn. The bright yellow sun peeked over the horizon, painting the sky a mixture of blues, pinks and purples. The ocean looked like it was made of gold in the light, the waves causing the sunlight to reflect off the water and make it shimmer and sparkle.
Sunken eyes stared out at sea, unable to take in the beauty of the morning. Ace leaned against the railing, looking down into the ocean. If he weren't so broken, he might have marveled at how detailed the nightmares always made the worlds he found himself in. Now all he could do was sink into his spiraling thoughts and wonder why he bothered anymore.
It's all nightmares. Every time I wake up. I can 'live' or 'love' or 'search' or 'die', but it's all just in my head. I can't escape. I can't endure. I can't be fixed. None of it matters. None of it.
Ace stared down at the sea, wild and mysterious, then tipped his head upward and looked at the sky. What was stopping him from just flying away in this dream? What was preventing him from abandoning the things and people that always ended up hurting him? Very few things could reach the sky, so maybe if he flew he would not be hurt again, and he would not have to inconvenience anyone with his issues.
Before Ace comprehended what he was doing, he was on the railing. He balanced easily on the wood, both his natural equilibrium and instinctive light-footedness letting him casually perch on the crossbeams. The waves bounced the ship gently beneath his feet but he remained firm and unbothered by the movement. The fire-user tilted his head towards the sky and lifted his arms, closing his eyes and letting the wind brush over his face, rustling his hair.
He supposed he could lift off directly from the deck, but instead found it darkly amusing to put his life in the unreliable hands of chance. After all, Ace's powers might not work in this dream. He could fly into the heavens, or he could fall into the sea and drown. It was inconsequential either way. Plus there was the fact that Whitebeard Pirates tended to grab him if he tried to fly away while in their reach…
I don't have to find Jack, Luffy, and Sabo, he thought morosely. They don't need me. I don't have to stay with the Whitebeard Pirates. They don't need me. I don't have to meet the Guardians. They don't need me. I'm just a problem, a mess, a… burden. They're all better off without me. I'll just leave on my own this time.
"Oh."
The exclamation came from behind him, gasped in a low, panicked voice. Ace merely turned his head, too numb to worry about being attacked anymore. Thatch stood a few feet from him, open terror on his face, and the fire-user idly wondered if the chef was afraid of him. He decided it did not matter.
"Ace. Ace, b-buddy." Thatch stammered. "Hi. Um, you want to get off of there?"
Ace ignored him, turning back to the sea as he balanced precariously on the railing. The fire-user thought he spotted brightly-colored fish below the waves and watched them swim out of sight with a muted curiosity. He heard the chef's breathing quicken.
"D-Did you know I just got a shipment of chocolate in? I know you love it. Want to come have some? We'll have to e-eat it before MARCO! finds out." Thatch shouted the Phoenix's name, a terrified strain in his voice. "MARCO!"
The chef stepped forward, halting immediately when Ace tensed. The fire-user closed his eyes and bowed his head, weary beyond words.
Why am I even scared anymore? It doesn't matter. I'm in a nightmare. I'll likely die again anyway.
…I never should have been reborn in the first place.
Ace supposed he should be argumentative, grieving, defiant, sad, determined, or scared right now. All he felt was numb. He sought the sky, tipping his chin up and staring up at the endless expanse of blue. If he could just reach it… he would be free.
Thatch moved, catching the wary fire-user's attention, but the chef merely raised his hands at chest level, his arms outstretched. He was shaking. That was strange. Usually Ace was the one who was always apprehensive and trembling. Was he right before? Was this a nightmare where the chef was afraid of him? That was a pretty unique one, comparatively.
"Ace, please come down." Thatch's voice cracked. "I don't know what's going on in that head of yours, but we can help you. Please, let us help you. Just— Just get back on the ship."
Ace's bare toes curled around the edge of the railing, and he slowly comprehended why the chef was acting so frightened.
He thinks I'm going to jump, the fire-user realized, surprised. I mean, I was, but I can fly— maybe— so it's fine. And even if I fell, it doesn't matter. I would just die. I always die.
The sound of a sob caught his attention, and he when he looked back the chef was crying. Tears raced down Thatch's cheeks as small cries broke out him, his body lurching slightly with each jagged breath. The Commander's knees wobbled before he fell to the deck, hand clapped his chest while the other still reached pleadingly towards Ace.
"I'm sorry you almost died because of me." The man babbled. "I'm sorry you were captured, and tortured, and who knows what else because of me. I'm sorry this happened to you. But please, don't do this. You're my friend, my brother. You're strong and brave and resilient, and I know you can beat this. I know you can live. So please…"
Ace watched the man break down, and felt something stir in his chest. This picture was very, very wrong. Thatch was a cheerful person. He should not cry, especially not because of the fire-user.
The Summer Spirit found himself stepping back onto the deck and inching over to Thatch. The chef stilled as he approached, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. Ace knelt in from of him but did not touch him, merely staring silently. He reached out, placing his hand on Thatch's arm just for a second— knives glass pain— before withdrawing.
The Fourth Division Commander's arms lifted like he wanted to encase Ace in them, but he resisted the instinctive urge to hug the twitchy fire-user. Instead Thatch lowered his arms and shot him a tremulous smile that managed to be sunny and bright.
"Okay. We're okay. You're okay." He rambled, taking in a shuddering breath.
Ace decided he did not like that word much anymore.
Purple caught Ace's eye and he peered at Marco, who was standing in the center of the deck. The Phoenix looked like decades had been stripped from his life, his eyes round and his skin ashen. Namur stood beside him, gripping the First Division Commander's arm tightly. The Fishman looked as horrified as the blonde pirate. He released the Phoenix and Marco rushed to Ace and Thatch's sides, sitting beside them.
"Are you all right, yoi?" he asked urgently.
He sounded scared, too. Ace should apologize. He didn't want the Whitebeard Commanders to be scared. Fear gave Pitch power.
But this is a nightmare, remember? Nothing matters.
…So why did I come to Not-Thatch?
Ace did not know. He did not understand. He did not care.
"We're fine. We're okay." Not-Thatch said that awful word again. He wiped at his eyes and looked welcomingly at Ace. "I was serious about that chocolate shipment. Bay might get grumpy because you haven't really eaten anything substantial in a while, but I swear chocolate makes everything better.
He looked so hopeful, but Ace could not find the energy to respond.
Did Not-Thatch think things were better? They would never be better. It would never end.
This little incident did not change anything. The fire-user was just going through the motions again. He knew the patterns, he recognized the hints, he predicted the outcome. Only this time… he knew there was no escape.
And that he did not deserve one.
Ace wished he could cry.
Not far from the Moby Dick, dark clouds formed in the sky.
ROTGOPROTGOP
It had been seventeen days since Ace woke for the first time, and Marco felt no closer to figuring out how to help the fire-user. After the scare this morning, the Phoenix was more terrified than ever about the state of the kid's mind. Thatch refused to leave Ace's side, forsaking his duties for the day and leaving them to the cooks under his command. Marco let it slide, because he himself wanted to do exactly the same thing.
He had panicked when he went to Ace's room only to find it empty, immediately dashing through the ship to find the kid and dismissing the concerns of other Whitebeard Pirates so as not to cause a stampede of searching pirates. When he had seen Ace on the railing, his heart nearly stopped. Namur— who had been with him when they heard Thatch shout the Phoenix's name— had grabbed his arm to prevent him from lunging for the kid.
"If you run at him, he might jump or fall." The Fishman had hissed lowly.
Marco had been unable to speak, only able to observe fearfully as Thatch tried to talk Ace down. When the chef had begun crying, his paralysis had almost faded, but in hindsight he was glad he had not approached. Ace had gotten off the railing by himself and gone to his friend's side to comfort him, mostly-willingly initiating contact for the first time since he woke up. If he hadn't come back to the deck, or if Thatch had not stumbled upon him by accident…
Don't think about it.
Instead Marco felt his mind wander back to the conversation with Shanks they had almost a week ago and a frown pulled at his lips.
"I guess it's time I tell you about our enemy." Shanks said. He brushed his hand through his hair, the red locks becoming slightly ruffled because of the action. "All right then. Like I said, I won't tell you everything, or how I came to get this information. I've sworn not to, and seeing as how you're confused right now, my Captain did not tell you about this. I technically should not either…"
His gaze flicked to the sleeping Ace. "…but I think Roger would understand. What you need to know is about a… man named Pitch Black. He is known as the Nightmare King and the Spirit of Fear, and he's— for lack of a better term— a complete monster."
Izo and Marco exchanged a glance at the red-haired Yonko's harsh words.
Shanks smirked almost bitterly. "I'm not exaggerating. He's killed more people than you can comprehend. You know those black creatures that have been popping up all over the world? The 'black horses' and 'shadow demons' the newspapers claim do not exist? They're his creations— his Nightmares and Fearlings— and they were made with the dreams and souls of the people who disappeared."
"I'm telling you all this because Pitch Black was standing in the corner of this room when I walked in. One of his powers is invisibility, though it has a catch. You have to… know he exists in order to see him. That's why you didn't see him earlier, though now I think you'll be able to. You couldn't see him, but Ace did."
Marco slowly began to put pieces together, and his stomach lurched uncomfortably. His gaze snapped to the shadowy parts of the room, and the Phoenix inside him tingled in warning even though there was currently no threat. Shanks poured four cups of sake, handing them out almost as an afterthought. The blonde pirate did not touch his. Oyaji took a swig. Izo downed his drink in a single gulp. Red Hair smirked humorlessly and poured him another cup.
"I wasn't sure before, but I'm certain now that Pitch was the one who kept Ace captive." Shanks revealed. "Those markings on the kid? They're from Pitch. His methods appear to be slightly different than what I was warned about, but I've seen the end result before and it's the same. I think Pitch may have been trying to turn Ace into a Fearling, but for some reason the kid is immune. So instead of turning Ace, the sand is likely forcing him into nightmares filled with his greatest fears. Over and over, every time he's asleep, until he could no longer differentiate between dreams and reality."
They all looked at the unconscious fire-user, who twitched and shifted in his sleep, expression pained. Marco stood up, but Shanks put a hand on his arm, stopping him from going to the kid.
"Shaking him won't work. If it's anything like the dr—… other sand I heard of, the black sand is designed to keep its victim asleep."
"What do we do then?" Whitebeard asked sharply. "How do we help my son?"
"You can't." Shanks said quietly. "As long as the sand is in Ace, he'll continue to have nightmares. Eventually… he'll likely die. Once the sand reaches his heart, it's over. All you can do is be there for him when he is awake and try to support him. If he keeps fighting, the sand won't beat him… but he can't just expel it either. It isn't going to magically go away, so you'll have to be there to try to keep his head above water. I'm sorry."
They had asked a few more questions and voiced protests— Was he certain the sand had no cure? Did he have an idea of where Pitch was and if the bastard could remove it? Was there a way to prevent the sand from infecting someone?— but the conversation ended shortly after that.
Shanks had warned the Whitebeard Pirates not to be too direct or to bring up Pitch with Ace, because that would only reinforce the kid's belief that he was in a nightmare. As far as the fire-user knew, it was impossible for the two Commanders and Yonko to know about Pitch, and he would likely panic, believing they were allies in the 'dream'. Marco, Izo, and Whitebeard had agreed to be subtle in their attempts to convince Ace this was reality.
The Red Hair Pirates had left shortly after that, with promises to return to the Moby Dick in a few weeks. James had reluctantly gone with them, unwilling to leave his patient but also unable to trust his idiot of a Captain to not get injured while he was away. Apparently they had received word of 'something important' that Shanks refused to disclose. The only hint the Whitebeard Pirates received was that it involved 'friends of an old friend'.
The red-haired Yonko swore he would tell Whitebeard if he received any intelligence about Pitch and his location before sailing off. Marco just wished he would be less cryptic, though he understood his silence and half-answers were due to the promise made to his deceased Captain, so he let it slide. For now.
One thing was for certain. Ace was in a dangerous mental state, worse than the doctors had predicted. And Marco could only be there, support him, and try to catch him when he fell.
The kid was still out on the deck under Thatch's watchful eye after rejecting the chef's offer of chocolate. None of the pirates had the heart to force him back to the infirmary when they saw how he looked at the sun.
The way those ember-colored eyes lingered on the sky and yellow star made Marco's already strained heart want to break. Ace looked so fragile beneath the open expanse of blue, like he could barely believe that he was seeing it. It had only taken a whispered suggestion from Vista about the possibility that the kid had not seen the sky in years to make Bay back off and let him stay outside.
Everyone watched him though. Subtly, of course.
But naturally, the peace could not last long.
The Whitebeard Pirates— the proud, savvy, veteran pirate crew of the World's Strongest Man— were caught completely off guard.
The darkness swept over the ocean without warning, the sky turning from day to a false night in a matter of minutes. The thunderstorm did not meander to the Moby Dick, it pounced on it, appearing out of nowhere like an enemy's ambush.
The wind did not howl, it screamed, shrieking with the outrage of a mindless, wounded beast as it took out its anger on the ship. The sea was just as unforgiving, waves the size of mountains rising up and beating against the Moby Deck, eager to pull the vessel into the depths. The rain pelted down with the strength of Haki-imbued punches, knocking more than one pirate off their feet as they stumbled across the rocking deck.
Marco braced himself as the ship tilted, riding up along a wave before crashing down jarringly. He saw Izo lunge for one of their less sturdy brothers as he slipped, barely able to keep the man from falling overboard. Namur was forced to dive over the railing after another less lucky crewmate was sent soaring into the sea with a scream that was lost among the concussion of thunder and wailing winds.
The Fishman popped up above the raging ocean mere seconds after his decent with the man held securely in his arms. Vista threw them a rope, feet planted to keep himself from being bowled over, and with the help of a few others they pulled the two back onto the ship. Another crew mate immediately took the shivering, near-drowned man to Bay.
A bolt of lightning struck the sea so close to the ship the Phoenix felt the charge in the air, the hair on his arms rising. A second, third and fourth strike split the sky all at once, the air ripping apart with an ominous crack. Marco prayed the mast would not be hit.
The First Division Commander tried shouting orders, but his voice was lost to the shrieking winds, the raging gale determined to keep his commands muffled. Luckily, the Whitebeard Pirates were not ignorant rookies, and each man did what he was meant to without being asked. Crew members ran left and right, pinning down free-falling items and assisting their brothers as an electricity-filled ocean descended from the heavens.
The Phoenix dashed water from his eyes and went to help a struggling Curiel tie down a loose rope. He barely made it a step before the wind struck him, smashing into Marco like a thousand blows and sending him sprawling.
He crashed into Thatch, who steadied the Phoenix as best he could, the wind and rain hammering against them both. Marco could not be surprised it the chef and his other brothers woke with bruises lining their skin. Flashes of lightning revealed Thatch's well-maintained pompadour was now a drooping mess, locks of hair sticking to his forehead.
The chef said something, gesturing animatedly, but his words were lost to the gale. Booms of thunder drowned the sound out even more, the ship trembling with every lightning strike. Haruta managed to help Curiel with the rope, and the two Commanders staggered off to assist their other brothers. Another wave lifted the Moby Dick, and many pirates gave startled shouts as the ship went up almost ninety degrees. It slammed back into a horizontal position, sending many pirates sprawling.
Marco winced when he saw an unlucky Fossa bounce his head off the deck, the dazed Commander being grabbed by Namur before he could slide into the sea. Thatch clung to Marco, bellowing urgently, and the Phoenix finally noticed that Ace was not with the chef. He scanned the deck, heart freezing as he spotted the only person who stood firm against the storm.
Ace gazed up at the flashing sky, unbothered by the forceful winds and torrential rain. As the Whitebeard Pirates scurried and shrieked around him, the fire-user was still and silent, looking calmer than he had since he had returned to them. As lightning flashed, rain poured, and people panicked around him, Ace was as solid and unmoved as a mountain, almost otherworldly as the bursts of light illuminated the black marks covering his skin.
His eyes lowered to meet Marco's, the orange irises almost glowing in the darkness, and a ghost of a smile flitted across his features. Then his head snapped to the side, staring out at the thrashing ocean past the Phoenix, and his grin faded into a peaceful expression. Seconds later, a new shadow fell over the Moby Dick. Marco turned to look behind him, horrified to spot the 700 foot wave bearing down on the ship.
"Brace yourselves!" he bellowed.
The pirates clung to whatever sturdy structure was within reach. They all looked at the incoming wave with uneasiness, determination, or fear. All except Ace. The fire-user did not move from the center of the deck, watching the wave approach with that same serene expression.
Marco moved before logic could stop him, releasing his anchor and dashing for the kid. Ace saw him approach, and finally an emotion flickered through his detached gaze. Fear. The fire-user reached for the Phoenix as the blonde man did the same to him, the wave bearing down on them both with a promise of death. The First Division Commander tried to turn their bodies, to shield Ace's with his own, but the kid refused to move, sturdy as a stone.
It all happened too fast for Marco to react.
One second, Ace clung to Marco, as if he were trying to cover every part of the larger man he could. The next the kid exploded, fire shooting out protectively like a sphere that closed around them both. And then the wall of rushing water was upon them. The storm grew muffled under the sounds of the crackling flames, everything turning from a dark grey to brilliant swirl of orange and blue. Marco barely had time to register the heat before the sphere vanished, his burns healing instantly thanks to his Devil Fruit.
The Phoenix realized he was entirely dry for all of a second until the rain drenched him to the bone again. He and Ace were in the same position in the center of the deck, with a circle of scorched wood around them.
Everyone else had been thrown to the deck or were hanging off the railing. Those that could rushed to assist their flailing comrades, some shouting for help, but Marco could only stare at Ace in wonder.
Because after days of apathy, fear, and indifference, he had just stopped Marco from being doused by and potentially pushed into the sea. Because he had forsaken all previous uncaring habits and intentionally protected the Phoenix. Because he had just used fire to block water. Such a thing should be impossible, and yet the kid had managed it.
The kid that looked almost happy to see that the Phoenix was all right, his orange eyes shining with concern.
For the first time since Ace was returned to them, Marco felt that the kid might actually be all right.
Before Marco could speak, Haruta stormed up to them both, expression as ominous as the dark clouds above. He grabbed Ace by the head and pulled him down to his eyelevel, ignoring the fire-user's winces.
"What the hell was that?" The Twelfth Division Commander shouted, giving Ace a rough shake. "You fucking moron! Marco could have died because of you!"
Orange eyes darkened to flecked black and something dead and horrifying entered the fire-user's gaze. Marco did not have time to rebuke Haruta before Ace shoved the Twelfth Division Commander, bolting away from them both. It took too long for Marco to realize that the kid was not heading below deck, but towards the side of the ship.
The pirates closest to Ace lunged for the fire-user, but the wind buffeted them away, keeping him out of reach of their desperately grasping hands. The Phoenix could only scream as Ace leapt over the railing… and soared into the sky.
Maco was airborne before he fully registered that Ace was flying, the blue phoenix following the orange flames the kid left in his wake as he fled through the clouds. He heard muffled shouts behind him but did not turn, fighting against the wind as he followed his youngest brother. There was not any time.
The Phoenix knew that if he did not go after Ace, they would lose him. To the sand, to Pitch, to the Marines, or even to the expanse of the world. Marco sent a mental apology to Oyaji and the others as he fluttered and soared, raging against nature, desperate to keep Ace in sight.
The fire-user and the Phoenix vanished in the storm.
ROTGOPROTGOP
At first, Ace felt free.
With nothing but the open sky around him, the clouds below and the sun above, the fire-user felt almost-content. The Summer Spirit soared through the atmosphere, away from the storm and the Whitebeard Pirates and the fears that tried to drown him. It felt wonderful, just being by himself without pitying eyes watching him and without having to pretend to be whole.
The fire-user was too tired to swoop and perform tricks like he once might have, but he flew steadily and almost-smiled as he looked down at the sea of clouds, oddly at peace. Ace had been right about the sky. Here, no one could hurt him. Here, no one could touch him. Here, he was unbound, not a prisoner, and free.
It took Ace an hour to realize he was running away.
The understanding of his cowardly choice struck the fire-user like a blow, and suddenly the flames keeping him aloft could no longer be maintained. The Summer Spirit plummeted, the world rushing by in a blur. And yet at the same time, everything seemed to move slower, the ocean below frozen in time as he fell towards it.
He should be scared. He wasn't. Ace wondered if it was because he was still unafraid of death, or if he wanted it. The latter thought did not even disturb him anymore.
A tan splotch formed in front of him, and the fire-user noted he was falling towards an island, not into the ocean. He briefly considered trying to alter his plummet so he could dive into the waves, but decided it did not matter.
Nothing mattered anymore.
The island filled his vision, and at the last second Ace instinctively twisted, trying to make it so he would fall feet first. He did not quite succeed, his body turning so he was in a strange diagonal position. He hit the ground hard, bones jarring unnaturally as he slammed into the earth. His skeleton strained and groaned but somehow did not break.
Ace did not simply stop, instead rolling and skidding on the sand, parts of his skin scraping and tearing as he slid across the beach. He eventually came to a halt, exposed skin stinging. The fire-user lay there for a long time, staring up at the deceptively bright sun and feeling strangely… disappointed.
I survived. Huh.
He sat up and his body brutally informed him of every new ache and pain. A glance downward showed tiny cuts and forming contusions lining his flesh, some weeping crimson. The fire-user shifted, grimacing as pain flared through him, and froze when the tan sand beneath him dug into his open wounds. It stung, but that was not the reason for his dismay.
Panic took hold as the familiar, gritty substance got into his blood. Ace's throat strained but no sound came out, only speckles of red. He clawed at his skin, brushing the sand off of him as if it were spiders. The natural sand fell off, but the black sand remained, and so he scrubbed harder, trying to rid himself of the disgusting poison.
Small streaks of red smeared over his chest and limbs, causing the fire-user to still, staring at the crimson on the ground and his hands. His black-mark detailed fingers twitched and the Summer Spirit gagged, covering his mouth. It was inside him. He did not want it inside him.
Get it out. Get it out. Get it out.
Ace rubbed furiously at the marks on his arms and stomach, making his skin raw and reddish but the sand refused to go away, trapped within his body and beneath his skin. His fingers spasmed again and desperation took hold. He could not do this anymore. He could not handle more nightmares. He needed the black sand gone. He needed it out.
He dug his nails into his side and stomach— above the wound that began all of this— but hands grabbed his wrists, pulling them away. The contact hurt— knives needles lava stabbed— like it always did now. Ace met Not-Marco's wide blue eyes and felt a little more of his fractured psyche crumble.
The Phoenix had followed him. He had hunted him down. He must be angry at the fire-user for making him risk his life.
Ace knew the storm had been his fault. He had let his powers get out of control like he always did. He was a dangerous, violent Nature Spirit, and all he did was hurt and destroy. He knew that now.
The fire-user had been fully prepared to die to his own creation, as he should, even smiling as the storm raged around him and he realized the latest nightmare was going to end. But then the Phoenix had run to him, disregarding his own safety to help Ace.
Ace did not know why he had saved the Not-Marco from the wave. Maybe it was the terror in his blue eyes as he ran towards the Summer Spirit. Maybe it was the way he had tried to shield the fire-user's body with his own. Maybe it was the fact that the ocean was one of the few things that could kill the Phoenix. Maybe it was the small detail that Ace had seen his old friend die so many times he could not bear to see it again.
Whatever it was, Ace had felt the sudden urge to protect, moving between Not-Marco and the wave as fire burst from his body. The flames had felt wonderful, warm and calming and bright, and although the fire-user was uncertain exactly what he had done, he had succeeded in his goal. He had kept Not-Marco safe, shielded him from the wave that could strip him of his abilities and push him into the sea.
Ace had actually felt proud, for a single second.
Then Not-Haruta had proven that he was still in nightmares, shouting that the fire-user had almost caused Not-Marco's death. It was then that the Summer Spirit saw the flickers of blue flame on the Phoenix, and comprehended that he had nearly burned Not-Marco alive. The realization that even when he tried to help people he was still a monster had been the final blow.
It had been too much.
It had been too much long before then.
So he had run.
And Not-Marco had followed.
Ace could only wonder what the Phoenix was going to do to him now.
A tiny part of him whispered that he should fight Not-Marco, but the desire was suggested more out of fear than defiance. Ace would not be able to get away and escape. He was never able to flee from the people that hurt him. All he could do was hope that he died quickly.
So when Not-Marco grabbed his wrists and pinned him to the sand, Ace did not resist. When the Phoenix pressed his arms down at his sides, holding them there so he could not defend himself, the Summer Spirit did not struggle. The numb acceptance of his fate was back, and so the fire-user only stared at Not-Marco's chin hollowly, unable to meet his likely-furious eyes. He could not tell if the blonde pirate was upset or angry. Probably both.
"Enough." The Phoenix said harshly. "That's enough, Ace."
Ace turned his head towards the ocean and watched the waves brush against the shore. He tried to focus on the movement of the sea to distance himself but could not do it. He did not bother to tell himself everything would be fine. It would not be. The fire-user trembled, and waited.
He was not afraid. Not anymore. Ace was tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of fleeing. Tired of betrayals. Tired of nightmares and fear. He knew he had given up— He had given up a long time ago— but instead of feeling bad, all he could do was accept it. How could he even claim to be who he once was anymore when the similarities between him and Fire Fist Portgas D. Ace were practically nonexistent?
The black sand was crawling again, for the first time in a long time. Ace felt it slither over his back and inch up his ribcage, bringing its icy numbness with it. He experienced the smallest glimmer of panic as it crept up over his throat and face, feeling like a noose around his neck and a smothering pillow over his mouth and nose.
Not-Marco breathed in sharply. "Oda, no. Ace, you're okay. You're fine. You can beat this." He sounded scared again. "Don't give up, kid!"
I already have. I'm sorry, Ace thought morosely, refusing to look at him. Besides, this is a nightmare anyway. It doesn't matter.
He blinked rapidly as the sand slid over his eyelid, past his eyebrow and caressing his hairline. He supposed he should be more concerned about the blackness moving towards his heart, but he could not muster the effort. Numbness faded and bolts of pain ripped through him, making his breathing stutter and his body jerk.
Ace vaguely remembered Pitch's promise of an agonizing death, and distantly hoped this was real. He did not want to fall to the black sand more than once. It was starting to hurt. In fact it hurt a lot, like Bay had injected him with that organ-shredding drug again. At least he could show his pain this time, limbs twitching and jaw quivering as he clenched his teeth.
He belatedly realized Not-Marco was holding him upright, hugging Ace. The pain from the pirate's touch was overwhelmed by the black sand's progress. The Phoenix breathed quickly, his normally half-lidded eyes fully open with terror.
"Don't you dare. You are not losing to this. Don't you want to see your brothers again? Luffy and Sabo?"
Ace kind of did, but they were better off never knowing he had been reborn.
It was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe, each intake of air slow and rattling. It felt like his lungs were being filled with ice-water. He felt the black sand stretch more, circling his heart like a predator with prey. Ace knew it was mocking him and prolonging his suffering. As if it knew his thoughts, the sand prodded at his heart— his soul?— each jab like a knife plunging into his chest.
Again, his larynx strained, unable to let loose the screams he should be voicing. He coughed instead and felt blood splatter onto his chin. The fire-user tried to claw at his own skin— Get it out. Get it out.— but the Phoenix kept his arms pinned, wrestling with him and keeping him from attempting to remove the sand. Didn't he understand it was causing Ace pain?
Not-Marco was still rambling about people who would apparently miss Ace if he died here, saying things about how he was strong, and was a fighter, and could do this, and would survive. The fire-user did not have the cognitive ability to wonder how the Phoenix knew the sand was killing him, his mind sinking into a whitish-grey haze as the poison overwhelmed him. It was just like when he had been stabbed by Akainu and Pitch. His limbs grew heavy and numb, and a harsh coldness slithered through his veins.
H-Hurts.
Ace slowly comprehended that he was dying in a loved one's arms again. He supposed he should feel sorry about that. Marco or Not-Marco did not deserve to see him die again. But the fire-user had already fought for so long. He had already tried to stay strong for himself and his family. Comforts grew meaningless, reunions grew repetitive, trying did not change anything, and nothing mattered in the end. Ace had nothing left to sustain him.
"What about Jack?" Not-Marco blurted, voice shaking. "Surely you don't want to leave him alone?"
…He… knows… Jack?
Ace forced his eyes to open and move to meet the Phoenix's. He frowned subconsciously. Did he ever tell Marco about Jack? He might have, but he could not recall. So many memories were gone, fake, or altered, and the fire-user had no way to sort them. Not-Marco misunderstood his bout of attentiveness.
"I saw Jack once, yoi. At Mar— A while ago. He was sad when you… left." The normally coolheaded pirate babbled. "I never saw him after, but I bet he was searching for you all this time. I never met him personally, but I know Jack will never give up on you. He's still looking for you, yoi. Don't you want to see him again?"
Ace… did. It was a surprising revelation, but the fire-user could not deny that he still wanted to reunite with Jack, even after everything. It took a while, but Ace identified the reason why he could think of the Winter Spirit without remorse or terror.
Jack never hurt him.
In all of his nightmares, the Guardian of Fun never harmed or betrayed Ace. Jack had been with Ace since he was an infant, so he would not suddenly up and abandon the fire-user. The Winter Spirit did not give a damn about Ace's heritage, so that fear was out as well. Jack might have died once or twice, but such an occurrence was much rarer than Luffy or Sabo losing their lives.
In fact, Jack was rarely present in Ace's visions of fear at all. He wouldn't be. The Guardian was the opposite of fear. He was fun, and snow days, and freedom. The fire-user wondered how he had not noticed that before, and felt… something.
The black sand ground to a halt, unable to proceed further.
"That's right." Not-Marco whispered, staring intently at Ace's face. "You can do it. You can keep fighting. Come on, kid…"
The pain and iciness retreated slightly. Ace could breathe again. The fire-user scrutinized Not-Marco carefully, wondering why a figment of his nightmares would be helping him so much. Unless… he wasn't an illusion?
The logical part of Ace warned him not to hope again, but the part of him that always stayed desperate to identify reality leapt upon the possibility. The fire-user wiggled in the Phoenix's hold, trying to stand up and failing spectacularly. He ended up curled at the Commander's side, tucked protectively against his body like a child with a parent. The contact felt nauseating and awful, but he could not care less. A while ago, Ace may have found the position to be embarrassing. Now, he did not give a damn, just glad to possibly be safe for once.
The Phoenix murmured something about Ace being all right, telling him to rest for a moment, but the fire-user ignored him. The Summer Spirit glanced around, pointing urgently at a nearby stick, and Not-or-maybe-Real-Marco obediently leaned over and handed it to him. The fire-user wobbly drew in the wet sand near the water, barely legible words forming in the dirt.
Are you real?
The answer was instantaneous. "Yes. I'm real, yoi. Shanks told Oyaji, Izo, and I about what is happening with you. He told us that you've been trapped in nightmares… and who did it. Pitch Black."
The Phoenix spoke quickly, as if he were rushing the words out in order to not give Ace time to fret about an explanation. The fire-user briefly wondered how Shanks would know all of that, stomach clenching uncomfortably as Marco indirectly mentioned Pitch, then dismissed the concerns. Hope was almost as terrifying as his nightmares now, but surely the visions would not be elaborate enough to have a fake-Shanks with knowledge of the black sand. That was too fantastical to be believed, but the fire-user was nervous to realize he did indeed believe it.
Marco met his gaze, expression firm. "I am real, Ace." He confirmed again. "I am real, and this is reality. You're awake."
It felt ironically surreal. Ace did not know how to react to it. The fire-user felt the black sand beckon angrily, likely upset it had lost its grip on him but he ignored it, blinking tiredness from his eyes. He gripped his stick uncertainly, and dropped it when it started to smoke. The Phoenix gave a low, shaky chuckle.
"Careful there." He paused, eyes roaming over the fire-user's tattoo-like marks. Before Ace could feel self-conscious, the Phoenix continued. "I don't fully know what's going on. I don't know exactly what happened to you. But I am here for you now. I will help you keep track of reality. Every time that you 'wake up', come find me. Every time. The real me will not hurt you. I will not yell at you. I will not reject you. The first thing I will say to you is that I'm real. Okay?"
His voice was firm, blunt, and unyielding, but his tone comforted Ace instead of disturbing him. This was new. This had never happened before. It was not a repeat, or a loop, or a nightmare that could be predicted. He should worry that the sand was simply giving him a spot of levity so that it could take it away, but somehow Ace suspected that was not the case.
The fire-user felt the brief urge to hug Marco, but did not, instead managing to shoot the Phoenix a smile. Tendrils of hope bloomed in his chest, and his eyes turned into the color of flames.
Thank you, he thought.
The furious black sand yanked at Ace and muscles gave out. Marco caught him as he fell, but for the first time in a long time, the fire-user was not afraid. Now he had someone to help him. Now he had someone to search for. Now he finally had a way to identify what reality was.
I… can do this, Ace thought with amazement.
And the black sand whisked him away.
ROTGOPROTGOP
A/N: This chapter was brutal. That one section with "Bay" and Ace had me take psych session things I've seen in media, and cruelly twist what the doctor would say to make Ace hate himself instead of heal. And then there was everything else… But at least Ace has finally got someone to help. Spoiler, but that part with Marco was indeed real. I'm not so cruel that I'd make that a dream.
As one brother turns towards safety, three others run into danger. If Pitch didn't know Luffy was coming before, he certainly does now. The next few chapters are going to be… fun.
Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, followed, and favorited.
Responses to Guest Reviews:
To Lama: Thanks! Okay, I'll believe you. XD I just had to have Tooth punch a dude because he insulted Jack's teeth. The idea popped into my head and refused to leave lol.
To whoo: Thanks for reviewing. That's happened to me before too. At least you got it to work eventually. Third time's the charm. Nice catch! I was wondering if someone would notice that. North does seem like the type to cause trouble, doesn't he? Ironic cause he's Santa. XD Sabo tried. I think I explained it this chapter.
Please review!