Hey everyone!

Okay, here it goes. I am sorry I took so long to update. It's been months and I keep all of you waiting. If you're reading this, thank you for returning. But, as a writer and reader, I'm sure you all understand that life is all about ups and downs and...I had a period of time where I just didn't want to write and I've been rather busy lately for it too. In any case, here are my due apologies.

Okay, so anyway, this chapter is rather full of dialogue and it may be a little (or a lot) OOC. Please excuse any errors in my language, or if it doesn't flow or the works. I hope I'll get better as I begin to write more. And, yes! Next chapter I'll be writing for is "Bleeding through the Seams"! So wait for it and tell me what you think, yeah?

And for my dear reviewers and those who favourite-d and followed this story, thank you so much. You guys are largely part of the reason I returned to this particular fic.

Oh, and do note I have decided to add Marco's trademark "yoi" at the end of his sentences. Only for this chapter onwards. I am truly sorry for the inconsistency. If you guys don't like it, I'll get rid of them for this chapter and won't add in any more after that. Unless I'm writing one-shots, that is. And I believe I've used Hold me now by Red for one of my stories before, but heck it's too right for this chapter so I just had to use it again.

With that, please read on and enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or any of its characters.

As I burn, as I break, I can't take it anymore
I'll return to the place where the water covers over everything
Rescue me somehow
- Hold me now by Red

It had been unanimously decided to keep Ace's condition from as many people as people. For this, Marco was endlessly thankful. It was not that he didn't trust his family- no, it was definitely not that. He trusted his family with his life and everything beyond that. It was the simple unfortunate fact that one Portgas D. Ace was not a member of the Whitebeard Pirates. He did not bear his adoptive father's mark. Last they checked, he had even turned down (and rather violently) their constant offers to enter into their ranks. Sure he had been nice for all of one week before this whole fiasco had occurred, but that wasn't enough to endear himself to each and every member of the crew.

Hell, the average time it took for new members to even meet everyone on the ship alone could take months.

Of course the commander knew his family wouldn't take the opportunity to have a go at Ace. But they were protective (and overly much most times too), and while everyone had been swept into the whole Clockwork-should-be-dead extravaganza, not everyone knew the teenager personally. The ex-captain they all knew and heard of was a defiant, persistent and exasperatingly stubborn pirate who toiled night and day to take Whitebeard down. Marco didn't want their first real impression of him to be a scared, jittery kid who jumped at every noise.

Ace wouldn't appreciate that. Especially if they wanted him to stay.

Marco leaned back against his chair, the back of his arms thrown behind his head. He contemplated going down to the infirmary but decided he shouldn't. Both Thatch and himself had made a silent agreement that they should attend to their own duties and to themselves while they could before Ace woke again. It had, he checked, only been three hours since the kid passed out on them.

Unlike the chef, he had done most of his paperwork in the infirmary and had only just completed the rest of it. Thatch, on the other hand, had a lot more to go through. He resisted the urge to shake his head. His brother was a lazy piece of work, and he was as efficient as a turtle when he was worried. Fourth commander though he was, but he was a little too empathetic even for a pirate's standards.

And speaking of brothers…

"You're not real."

He let out an exhale.

"Are you going to hurt me now?"

He had little to no clue how to proceed from then on. The Whitebeard pirates had had brothers who were subjected to periods of torture at the hands of those who very much did not exist anymore; and, not all who returned came back the same. They had dealt with it and they had eventually recovered. Yet, this wasn't the same.

Ace was among people he didn't truly trust. How was he to go about helping someone like that?

"Let go of me! Let go let go!"

A surge of dark resentment built in his stomach, and the phoenix inside of him trilled at his desire to rip something apart, preferably a marine, or a conveniently caged Frederick Clockwork. Just then, a knock broke his line of thoughts.

"It's Izo."

He swung his chair round to face the door. "Come in, yoi."

The door opened to reveal his kimono-clad brother, who slipped in in a flurry of silks and delicate embroidery. The pirate took one look at him and asked, "Have you had your lunch?"

Marco raised an eyebrow at the disapproving look. "I have?"

Izo mirrored his expression, pulling it off almost impressively. "That would be more believable if you told me instead of asking."

The blonde waved the hinted rebuke away. "I have, yoi." He nodded to a tray of half-finished fruit on his desk. He held up a hand. "And that does count. Thatch has been too busy to cook his best, and the other chefs aren't doing him justice. It helps that I don't eat a lot anyway."

"Is that supposed to placate me or am I to head to the kitchens to find something that would?"

"I'm a pirate, Izo. I can do without going the whole three-meals-a-day routine once in a while." Marco gestured to his bed, pointedly ignoring the mild glare thrown his way. "So what did you want to talk about, yoi?"

Izo stomped over to the bed and all but plopped on it. "I hate it when you do that," he muttered.

"Do what?"

"It's nothing to worry your pretty head over," he snapped. "Now shut up and listen to me."

Marco raised his hands in surrender. "I'm listening," he said slowly.

Izo shot him a scathing glare, but continued, his fingers pressed flat against his lap. "I heard there was a commotion in the infirmary earlier." A pair of dark eyes met his.

The Phoenix inwardly sighed, not surprised in the slightest that Izo would come to him for this. Thatch would get all upset, and Oyaji would tell him to just relax and wait it out, while the doctors would demand he leave them alone. "I understand you and Thatch went to meet Clockwork earlier on, yoi?" he finally asked.

Izo nodded.

"So you know Ace was subjected to nightmares in the form of hallucinations, where his emotional and mental state was made to suffer a tremendous amount of distress," he stated. "According to Rin, she theorised that he was probably injected with concoctions that distorted his perception of reality, forcing him to live out…" – he tried to find the right word – "pleasant realities, before having said realities turn against him."

The kimono-clad pirate folded his arms. "That would explain his anxiety about needles."

"It does, yoi. In a way, that's good since it means he's aware that whatever he's experienced in those dreams didn't happen. The hard part is convincing him that this is real. Physically, he's healing well, although Rin suspects quite a long road of recovery before he's back to his tip-top form."

"What do you mean, exactly?"

"You saw his wrists and ankles. He needs therapy." The blonde commander tilted his head to look out the window. "Even then," he added, voice soft, "even then, he wouldn't be able to walk without assistance for a few weeks, and after that there would likely be residual pain. I'm surprised as it is that he could move his fingers without flinching, yoi."

A rustle of movement and a hand brushed against his shoulder and he turned to see Izo staring at him, expression unreadable.

"He's a stubborn kid, I know. He'll make it through."

Izo snorted. "That's not what I'm thinking about, idiot brother of mine."

Marco frowned at the knowing look he received.

A small smile crossed the other's features. "You're worried that he would refuse to stay. You wouldn't be there to help him otherwise." The smile swiftly morphed into a smirk. "You know, Marco, you're hardly ever this concerned over a bratty kid who won't join the crew. It's a refreshing change, however awful you look." The pirate patted him twice before sweeping towards the door. Izo held up a finger as he held the door open. "And it is not a good look on you, brother."

With that said, the door clicked shut as footsteps faded into silence. Marco blinked at the wooden appendage. Giving his brother's words more thought, he got up and took a good look at himself. Huh. He didn't look that bad.

Did he?

Crying out
These tired wings are falling
I need you to catch me

Izo was right. He did look a mess.

It was a wonder he didn't feel like it. Or at least, he thought he wasn't a mess. Marco shook his head, opting instead to focus on the sandwich stuffed with odd pieces of meat and vegetables on his plate. Across him was Thatch, who had just made it his mission to point out everything wrong with his pasta and lamenting the misery he must have put his family through by being away from the kitchen for so long.

"And look at it, Marco!" he was exclaiming, the palm of his hand slapping his forehead in mortification. "There's hardly any sauce! Those morons! Just they wait until I get back in there and kick their butts so hard they'd land themselves in East Blue!"

For his part, Marco took a bite of his sandwich and chewed away.

Thatch glared at him. "You can say it tastes horrible, Marco. I know it probably does."

"Key word is 'probably', yoi," the older pirate retorted. "Your chefs did fine. Stop picking on them."

"I can't just let it go! I'm the head chef! This isn't the kind of food that's allowed to go on the dining tables that our family eats on!"

"Aren't you a little harsh? It's not their fault they were without head chef, yoi."

Thatch reeled back as if slapped, a flush creeping into his features. His mouth opened and closed at the blow.

As if just realising what he said, Marco snapped to attention, his food halfway to his mouth. He closed his eyes briefly, mentally berating himself for not just shutting up and to eat his damn sandwich. The look on the other's face shot a tendril of guilt straight into his chest. "Thatch, yoi," he began carefully. "That's not what I meant."

Thatch's expression closed and picked his fork right up. "It's okay, Marco. You're right. I shouldn't be complaining." He shoved a mouthful of pasta into his mouth.

"No, I was wrong. Thatch," he called.

The other swallowed, keeping his gaze averted. "No, I admit it. I should have been attending to my duties as fourth division commander and head chef. It's not right that I leave them while I'm still on the ship. So don't feel bad. I needed to hear that."

The guilt multiplied tenfold when the brunette went back to stabbing a piece of meat, a stark contrast to his usual slow eating habits. Marco contemplated pulling the stupid plate of pasta away. "Calm down, yoi. Listen to me."

Silence.

Marco seemed to deflate. He reached out and knocked lightly on Thatch's arms. A pair of deep brown eyes darted up to meet his in surprise. "I'm sorry, yoi. The ship has been in disarray ever since we brought Clockwork on board." The Phoenix clenched his fists. "I'm not trying to make excuses, but there has been pressing issues to oversee and I could have handled them better. I shouldn't be taking it out on you, yoi."

As he spoke, the chef's composure began to take a turn until all traces of upset faded from his features. Thatch let out a chuckle. "We're both idiots, aren't we? No, I'm sorry, Marco. We've both been up to our necks in work and I shouldn't be getting all riled up over something as stupid as pasta." He looked away as something akin to shame crept across his countenance. "You know, when I found out you already knew he'd been suffering from nightmare-induced hallucinations, I thought you had been keeping it from everyone else."

Marco blinked in surprise, but remained quiet at the warm smile directed his way. He didn't have to ask who his brother was referring to.

"I know it's stupid, and borderline ridiculous even, to be this concerned over a pirate who joined us just a few months back. Unwillingly at that, too. But there's something about him, you know? There's a fire inside him that just pulls you in and I know you feel it too. It's the same reason I know you're just as worried as I am, if not more, because, between the two of us, you're the mother hen." At this, the fourth commander's lips twitched into a wry grin. His shoulders then slumped. "I just want to be a part of it. To shoulder the burden of worrying for that kid."

Marco felt something inside him clench. "I'm sure we're not the only ones concerned over his health, yoi," he pointed out. "I'm not the only one."

"I know that. But not everyone is as…emotionally invested as some of us are."

There was a moment's silence.

"You have a point, yoi," the older pirate said carefully, "but it doesn't mean the rest are not investing into this their own efforts to make it better for Ace."

Thatch rolled his eyes. "Yes! I get that. I meant that, for once, you and I are equally worried about something. For once, only you and I – except for maybe Izo and Oyaji – are feeling the same level of pressure about the same thing. You can share your burdens with me, Marco." There was a pause, and he added quietly: "That's what brothers are for."

At that moment, Marco remembered Izo's words.

"I hate it when you do that."

…

"And it is not a good look on you, brother."

Marco's cerulean eyes met his sibling's dark ones and it took less than a second before he broke the gaze. "You're right, yoi. I'm sorry."

Not for the first time, the renowned Phoenix couldn't help but feel thankful for the chef's understanding nature when the latter brushed off his apology with a dismissive wave, immediately reverting back to his own bubbly persona and weighing the pros and cons of leaving his kitchen to further fend for themselves for a while.

At his questioning look, Thatch snorted. "I want to get Ace on a diet of proper food to spur him back into full health and I might need some time to focus on that fully without worrying half the ship would starve to death without me. There's been a ridiculous amount of paperwork alone to do without having to add on yelling at my kitchen staff on a daily basis."

The blonde couldn't help a smirk. "I'm very sure we've survived extended periods without you on board, Thatch. No need to get ahead of yourself now."

"Like you didn't miss my food."

"Like I couldn't survive it, yoi."

"I heard what you told Izo. My chefs not doing me justice? How kind of you to acknowledge my superior skills in cooking."

Marco blinked lazily. "And in that field alone."

"Whatever, you stupid bird. We all know the truth."

An eyebrow twitched. "You-"

A shout from the entrance of the mess hall interrupted him. "Commanders!" They turned to see Rin's assistant running towards them, her hands flailing almost comically if the two hadn't realised the likely reason for her appearance. The nurse (Riko, if Marco remembered correctly) skidded to a stop beside them, ignoring the other turned heads.

"What is it?"

"He's asking for you!" she gasped as she tried to catch her breath. She must have felt the curious stares on her and lowered her volume into a harsh whisper. "Ace is freaking out and is asking for you both so what the hell are you still doing?! GO!"

Marco shot a startled glance at Thatch even as he was got up and shot past the flustered doctor. A rush of something heavy coiled tight in his stomach. He forced the sinking feeling away, determined to keep on moving forward and take it from there. There was no point in worrying himself in knots. Besides, as he had been forcefully reminded, he had his family with him. And one of them was right there running next to him.

"Hey, Thatch," he called as they rounded a corner.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you, yoi." He didn't have to turn to see the small smile creeping onto the chef's face.

There was a snort. "Shut it, birdbrain."

Nothing else needed to be said.

Hold me now
Until the fear is leaving
I am barely breathing

They came to a stop a little ways away from the infirmary, not wanting to risk creating a commotion lest a particular occupant of the room hear them and mistook their hastiness for something else. As the neared, however, both realised it was a futile measure. The shouts and panic-stricken refusals to "stay put" rang clearly into the empty hallway.

Thatch could already envision the now-normal struggle between the doctors who tried to keep Ace still and Ace who would fight near to the point of desperation to break free. He bit back a sigh. This wasn't what they signed up for. They never wanted a brother who was thrown into a state of anxiety whenever anyone came near. When their father spared Ace and offered him a space in their ranks, all of them knew it was the fiery defiance and firm purpose that shone so brightly like the sun in the fire-user's gaze that sealed the deal. That the teen hadn't hesitated to protect his crew only made him that much better.

Back then, it wasn't a scared, untrusting (okay, this still spoke true, but for different reasons), prone-to-panic-attacks kid who had to fight to keep calm. This sure wasn't what he signed up for either. The chef shook the thought away. No, don't think about that.

Point was, he already saw the kid as one of their own. And hell it seemed a long journey of recovery and trust-building activities before they could get back to the whole Oyaji-has-to-die phase, and then the part where Ace is finally one of them.

Or maybe they can skip the assassination attempts this time round and Ace could just give in and join them.

"Ready, yoi?"

Thatch blinked and flicked a glance at the blonde, who had a hand resting on the door handle, and an eyebrow raised. He inwardly snorted. Trust that chicken to wait for him to gather his thoughts where there was a much more pressing matter at hand.

He nodded impatiently. "Yeah, yeah. Let's go!"

Marco pushed the door open and, to no one's surprise, they were greeted by a few medical staff gathered round the kid's bed and pinning him down. At the head of the bed was Rin, who pushed back Ace's bangs to soothingly whisper into his ear. She looked up at their entrance and, if any of the two commanders noticed the brief flash of relief, neither of them acknowledged it.

"Took you long enough," she snapped. She turned back to her patient. "See?" She pointed at them. "They are right there." She glanced at them and when she realised neither had stepped forward, the head doctor looked upwards as if praying for patience. "Well, get over here, you incompetent fools!"

Marco immediately fell into step even as Thatch followed close behind. A feeling of pent-up nervousness shot through him even as the first commander waved the other nurses away. Even Rin stepped back when the younger fire-user seemed to freeze, a pair of wild grey eyes flicking between Marco and himself.

"Ace, yoi," the blonde greeted. Unlike most times, the man seemed to exude an air of welcomed warmth instead of his trademark general disinterest. Ace's gaze went back to watch the pirate. "You gave us quite a scare back then, passing out on us like that." Marco reached forward to knock lightly on the ex-captain's forehead. "Didn't I say you should tell us if you're not feeling well, Ace?"

For his part, Ace continued to stare at him through widened eyes.

Marco dragged a nearby chair closer and settled down beside the younger pirate. "Well, yoi? What did you need?"

Ace's lips parted and he seemed to swallow. "M-Marco?" he whispered. He darted glance at Thatch. "Thatch?"

The fourth commander smiled from his position at the foot of the bed. He held up a hand. "Yo!"

The shock on the raven-haired kid's countenance morphed into bewilderment, and then into disbelief. "You b-both are still…" Despite his low voice, the words rang loud and harsh.

Marco, however, took it into his stride. Thatch watched as he plastered on a look of innocent confusion. "But you asked for us, yoi. Why wouldn't we be here?"

The fourth commander was quick to catch up, realising the game his brother was playing. "Yeah, Ace." He noted the kids' complexion. "You look pale. Were you hungry? Or cold?" He looked towards the medical team. "Did you guys look him over right? He doesn't seem really well."

Rin eyed him carefully, but responded, "We will, once both of you are done."

The sound of a chair scraping against wooden flooring answered her admission. Thatch turned back to see Marco leaning over the seemingly stunned patient, before he brushed the back of his hand against a pale cheek. "Let them look after you and we'll be back in a bit, yoi. Can you wait for us to come back?"

Ace gaped at him, but then slowly nodded. "You'll be b-back?"

"I will, yoi."

The same piercing grey eyes moved to look at Thatch.

The pirate in question grinned. "I'll be back too."

Waking up and letting go
To the sound of angels
Am I alive or just a ghost?

Ace watched as the two infamous pirates left, his insides still reeling from the fact that no, he hadn't woken up from a fit of panic to see Clockwork asking after his dreams, and that yes, they were still there and still being kind to him. The look of confusion on Marco's features when he voiced his own disbelief was still vividly clear in his mind. But that wasn't right. It was as if the impossibility of them being there was just absurd.

As if the fear cemented inside him was unwarranted.

The medical team was swift in looking him over once the door clicked shut. Despite his initial reluctance, Ace began to unconsciously relax under their soothing ministrations, though he noted Rin was the one who carried out most of the procedures. He hummed under his breath at their soothing assurances and warm smiles. They even promised he could refuse anything that made him uncomfortable, going so far as to ask him if it was okay to touch him here or to prod him there.

"Okay, Ace," Rin said, a hand on his right shoulder. It felt achingly warm and he almost closed his eyes in contentment. That was, until her next words. "We need a few blood samples. Would that be alright with you?"

The fire-user froze beneath her touch. He began to withdraw. "As in n-needles?"

Rin nodded. She gestured to the tray of equipment, among which held a large syringe that was to prick into his skin and pull out his life force and drain him dry and possibly k-

The doctor cut into his thoughts. "It's really important we do this Ace." She must have seen what looked like panic on his face for she hurried to add, "But, if you don't want to, it's okay too. It's just...really important that we do this."

Ace ducked his head in shame. He was making things hard for her, wasn't he? He could do this. He could take down alligators and Shichibukai. Hell, he had handled Garp and got out alive. Surely he could handle a simple, pathetic piece of metal poking into his- "No." A hint of red crept into his cheeks and he looked just as surprised at his own answer. "I-I mean-"

The hand on his shoulder squeezed lightly even as Rin pulled away, her smile encouraging. "I understand," she murmured. She leaned back and began to pack away the medical supplies. "We're done for now. I'll go get your two friends here, alright?"

With that, she shooed her team away and left the infirmary with them, presumably to search for the two commanders. Ace was left stunned on the bed, his head playing her words through his mind again. Friends? Did he really consider them his friends? Surely they were, for what else would explain the little tingling of anticipation in his stomach at the knowledge that they were returning to see him again?

The two pirates must have been nearby as the door clicked open to reveal the sources of his confusion. A pair of blue eyes locked on his and it seemed to keep him immobile even as Marco settled down again on the same chair he had occupied earlier. Thatch stood nearby, a warm smile on his face whenever Ace glanced at him.

"Rin said you're healing just fine, although you might need to get used to assistance for a while to get you back on your feet, yoi," Marco said in greeting.

Thatch rolled his eyes at that. "He meant to ask how you're feeling."

Ace bit his lip. He wondered the use of answering them if this was indeed a dream, but the expectant gazes the two sported were enough to push him over. "I'm f-feeling fine." The corners of the brunette's lips curled downwards. Oh, to hell with it! "I'm a l-little t-thirsty, though."

Ace watched in wonder as the fourth commander practically lit up. Marco smiled and helped him to sit up as Thatch bounded over to give him slightly chilled plain water. He struggled to get up, not wanting to spill all over himself like a child, and like clockwork (and that was a name he instantly shoved into the darkest recesses of his mind), Marco grabbed his arms and helped prop him against his pillows.

Blue orbs eyed him casually as the older pirate fluffed the pillows around him. He silently wondered if the man had noticed his shudder.

"Here." Thatch then handed him the drink, which he grabbed with two shaky hands.

"Thank y-you," he mumbled. He brought the glass closer to himself and tried not to wince at the sharp jolt of pain that ran down both of his wrists.

"Better?" the chef asked when he had downed half the glass.

Ace shifted under their gazes. "Yeah." He reached to his side to put the drink down, his hand lifting away from his chest. He noticed from the corner of his eye Thatch moving to assist him but a valiant – and possibly stupid – part of him refused to stop. The ache in his wrist throbbed and he had to inhale to suppress the urge to wince. And of course, as luck would have it, the glass was about an inch away from the table top when it slipped from his grasp and winded up in pieces on the floor.

Before he could speak, Thatch was there and sweeping the glass pieces into the palm of his hand.

His insides sank. "I-I'm-"

"How do you feel about that, yoi?" Marco asked, voice calm.

Ace shrunk under his gaze, wanting nothing more than to hide under the piercing stare. "I didn't m-mean to," he mumbled. A feeling of disappointment surged through his veins. For whatever reason the two were here, there was no way they'd tolerate him if he couldn't even do one simple chore. They wouldn't come anymore. And if they didn't…they'd leave him at some island and he'd be all alone and far away from home and unable to fend for himself and Luffy would-

Rough hands brushed his bangs to the side.

"Don't be so hard on yourself."

The teenager broke away from his thoughts to see Marco's cool gaze on him. A quick glance around the room confirmed that Thatch had left, presumably to clear the mess.

"You're injured, yoi," Marco went on saying. "It's only natural you need assistance. Furthermore, your injuries are not minor. You wouldn't want to further hurt yourself because you didn't just ask, would you?"

Ace frowned at this. "B-but I would be t-troubling you."

The blonde raised an eyebrow at that, seeming confused. "Then why would you want us here? Even if you only desire our company, what kind of brothers would we be to not help you with little things like that?"

"We see you as a brother. Our little brother."

Ace stilled at the memory. Marco had said that, hadn't he? Before he had fallen to a mess of blurred images of struggles and shouts and utter panic, Marco had said that he was like a brother to them. That couldn't be a dream, could it? If it was a dream, shouldn't he be awake in Clockwork's lab right now?

"Ace, yoi?"

Ace started. "H-huh?"

Marco frowned at him. "Are you alright?"

Ace swallowed, releasing the breath he wasn't aware he had been holding. His fingers clutched at the thin blankets that rode low on his hip. Stupid, stupid hope and fear warred within him, each battling for dominance against his clouded mind. If that memory was real – if it was well and truly real, then…this had to be real, right? His heart began to pound frantically in his chest and, for a moment, he wondered if the blonde commander could hear it.

For his part, Marco glanced at the beeping monitor before turning back to him. "Talk to me, yoi."

Or was he simply fooling himself?

There was a jerk and his eyes widened as he found himself lying on his back, Marco's hands on the top of his arms. The teenager was sure something was wrong, for his chest began to hurt and he choked on nothing but-

"Breathe, Ace."

He gulped in a deep breath. The man leaned over him and there was a cautious gleam in his eyes.

"Are you alright?" he repeated.

Ace gave a minute shake. "Y-yeah."

The corners of Marco's lips quirked into a small smile. "Good, yoi."

He began to pull away, and feeling the beginnings of panic stir in his chest again, Ace abruptly lurched forward to clutch at the purple jacket, almost afraid the man would disappear should he let go. The pirate before him tensed for the briefest of seconds before he relaxed, though he didn't move any further. Ace breathed in, inhaling the unique taste that was Marco, as he willed himself to believe that the smooth fabric beneath his skin was real.

"The three of us have to become the freest pirates ever, then let's meet up again somewhere."

The bitter sting of fear and defeat.

"Somewhere on the big and open sea!"

The promises of hope and courage.

"Definitely, someday!"

The desire to be free.

"Marco," he gasped, his fists tightening as he pulled the pirate closer to himself. "Marco."

"What is it, yoi?"

A hand moved to the top of his head and he tensed, but angrily shoved the anxiety he felt at the touch away. He was stronger than this. He had to be! Because he was an older brother. Luffy was- Luffy was counting on him! What would his brother say if he just gave up? He owed it to his brother – both of them – to live!

Putting all his strength into this one simple action, he gritted his teeth and forced out: "Are you real?"

Panic filtered through him when the commander pulled away, though not enough that he had to let go. Blue eyes were suddenly staring at him and he realised the blonde had sat on the edge of the bed. The man must have seen something he approved of, for a warm smile swept away the concerned look he had sported. Ace hadn't even noticed how tense the pirate had been. He was wondering if he had been the cause of that when Marco ruffled his hair.

"Of course I am, brat."

Haunted by my sorrows
Hope is slipping through my hands
Gravity is taking hold
Said I'm not afraid
That I am brave enough

Marco had no idea what had changed. He had planned to play the all-is-normal card to push Ace into believing that the idea of them not helping him was ridiculous, but something in that conversation had turned the kid right around. It was in the right direction (thank goodness for that), but how it happened still baffled him.

The teenager still stuttered and flinched whenever anyone came near, though he was quick to realise that he was a growing exception to that, with Thatch following close after. And apart from his tendency to not finish his sentences out loud, he too was still adamant about having needles far away from him and sometimes shied away from too many people crowding around him.

It had been two weeks since that conversation, and another one where Marco had finally let Ace see more of the crew.

Recently, the crew had started clamouring for their turn to see the fire-user. Those who had sat with him during mealtimes and spoken to him during that one week of goodwill had harped on the first commander for "hogging all his attention" and had pestered him to let them in already. Izo had given them a stern rebuke to leave Marco the hell alone, but the blonde knew that the kimono-clad pirate was a little frustrated himself. For some reason, Ace didn't seem comfortable being around him to the extent where even Izo felt the need to give the kid some space.

Ace was surprisingly receptive towards his visitors, often forcing a pained smile and nodding when appropriate. He even played a game of chess with Vista, who lost spectacularly, much to everyone's amusement. When asked where he learnt to play chess, Ace had given him a secretive smile, adding that he'd tell him one day.

They were quick to learn, however, that any more than three people at a time was pushing it for the younger fire-user. Even then, the kid was much more relaxed when Marco was in the room with him. It was, he thought, a good time to move to the next step.

"Hey."

Marco smirked when at the greeting as he entered the room, a small bag in hand. "You look excited, yoi."

Ace raised an eyebrow at that. Oh, and yes, the little brat had taken to imitating his own signature raised eyebrow, much to the crew's amusement. Marco inwardly shrugged, not minding in the least. That meant Ace liked him best, right?

"Stop that," he ordered with a laugh, ruffling the kid's hair for good measure when the younger sat up straighter.

"H-hey!"

"Doesn't make much difference to the state of your hair, yoi."

Ace flushed, a hand reaching to pat down his head almost self-consciously. "It's not t-that bad," he muttered under his breath. He eyed the bag that hung limply in the phoenix's hand. "W-what's that for?"

Marco fought back his own uncertainty of Ace's possible reaction and answered, "We're moving you to your room. You'd need a bag to pack all your stuff here." He paused, and added as an afterthought, "Unless you want to stay here for an extended period of time?"

The ex-captain gaped at him. His grey eyes looked between the bag and himself, as if confused. "P-ack my s-stuff?"

The first commander nodded. "Yeah. You do want to bring all those with you, right?" He gestured to the heaps of things that included books, games and an unhealthy amount of food at his bedside, courtesy of visiting crewmembers.

Something dark gleamed in the younger's eyes but he looked away before the older pirate could ascertain the cause. "Ace, yoi?"

Ace began to fidget from his place on the bed. "But I d-don't even know if I could…" he trailed of, gesturing to his legs.

Marco tried to smile reassuringly. "That's why you'll be moving in with me. Or, well, I'm moving in with you." At the surprised look, he continued, "I've already moved all the stuff I need, so we just need you and your collection and we're done, yoi."

To his surprise, astonishment flashed across the teen's freckled features before a look of wonder crept into place. Any signs of tension all but left the younger's form as he plied the blonde with a happy smile. Marco wondered briefly if Ace was aware how young and innocent he looked in that moment, but he decided he didn't care. That was one look he didn't think he'd ever see and, knowing the impressive temper on the kid, he'd probably work to erase any form of childishness.

"Marco?" Ace was looking at him with wide grey eyes.

"Yes, yoi?"

He gestured to the mountain of items. "Will you help me?"

Marco didn't miss the lack of stutters. He looked at the determined set of his shoulders to the slightly trembling lip to the now burning resolution in the fiery grey orbs. He grinned.

"You didn't even have to ask."

Ace let out a soft sigh, but perked right up when he realised what he had done. Marco put a hand on his shoulder, and knew his message had gotten across, when Ace returned the smile.

It's okay.

Fall asleep to dreams of home
Where the waves are crashing
The only place I've ever known
Now the future has me

Ace leaned heavily against the first commander, wincing at every jolt of pain that seared through his ankles whenever he moved a step. Marco had an arm tightly flung around his back and he had to fight to keep from clutching at the older man too much for support. Damn it to hell. How was he going to do this? Wasn't it easier for him to stay in the infirmary where the doctors were? Unless…he shook his head violently, instead forcing himself to trust that Marco wasn't delivering him straight into Clockwork's arms.

Okay, so he didn't fully trust that they wouldn't, but he had no choice but to go with it. A part of him wanted to- no, needed to believe in them. If he was wrong, then that's too bad. But if he was right…he didn't want to live with regrets. He wouldn't. He promised.

Marco had assured him that his health would be taken into account. They didn't need doctors to push him back to full health, though he would need the occasional check-up.

A pair of deep blue orbs stared at him in concern. "Are you sure, yoi?" There was a flash of uncertainty. "I could carry you."

Ace coughed at the image of the blonde man carrying him on his back, feeling a heated flush travelling up his neck to his cheeks. If he was right, he probably resembled a tomato.

"I'm sorry," Marco hastened to add. "I just thought maybe you could skip the whole painful journey to the room. It's a little ways away from here, yoi."

The freckled teen bit his lip. It really hurt, and every sting sent an aching reminder that the one who inflicted the wounds was on the same damn ship as him. He closed his eyes.

"It's only natural you need assistance. Furthermore, your injuries are not minor. You wouldn't want to further hurt yourself because you didn't just ask, would you?"

Maybe it was the apologetic tone of the commander's voice, or maybe it was the simple fact that Ace did like this pirate, but it was enough for him to mumble an indistinct okay to a pleasantly surprised Marco. He inwardly snorted when Marco moved to lift him up in seconds, perhaps out of fear that he changed his mind.

As they moved down the hallway in comfortable silence, Ace allowed himself to rest. The sooner he recovered, the faster he would return to full strength. When that time came, oh hell, Clockwork was his.

I will not give up until I see the Sun

That's it, for now! Anyone wants to take a guess as to why Ace isn't comfortable around Izo?

Next chapter will feature Whitebeard and perhaps Teach too. Please leave a review and tell me what you think!