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Forbidden Fruits
Chapter 28
Law wouldn't stop fidgeting, and Kidd knew that if his ankle weren't wrapped in a towel holding a heavy pack of ice against his bruised flesh he would be pacing the waiting room. The surgery had been postponed an hour longer than expected because of a shortage of surgeons so late at night, and Law was frantic but not showing. His tears had long since dried up, and he hadn't spoken a word to Kidd yet. They just sat in silence, Kidd with his arm wrapped around Law's shoulders, and the other with his hands in his lap, twiddling his thumbs and tapping his one good foot on the hard linoleum floor.
"This is all my fault, you know."
Finally Law was speaking. But those words were not what Kidd had hoped to hear. "Don't be ridiculous. This is nobody's fault but that bastard Killer's."
"No, it's entirely my fault," Law insisted. His eyes flashing and a grim expression told Kidd he was deadly serious. "If I had never pressured you to come out, Killer would have never decided that I needed to die, and Ace would never have gotten hurt so bad."
"I came out because I wanted to come out, not because you press–"
"It still doesn't change the fact that he's in there dying!"
"Law, listen–"
"Alone! He's dying alone! That's his greatest fear, you know? That he'll die by himself, with no one by his side to tell him he was loved." Law began to struggle to his feet, using the arm of the chair he'd been dropped into by Kidd when they'd first arrived as support. He nearly flopped over, and instinctively Kidd grabbed a hold of his elbow, uncertain as to whether he should assist Law or pull him back down into the chair so as to avoid aggravating his sprained ankle. That was what the nurse had instructed him to do when she'd taken a gander at it. It hadn't taken a doctor to figure it out. Law had already known anyway.
In the end, Law's determination won Kidd over and he helped him rather than deterred him. They walked over to the emergency room door, Kidd praying that they wouldn't immediately get thrown out of the hospital by security for barging into a place where people were bleeding and dying.
Just as Kidd was about to bust them through the intimidating white revolving door, a man emerged holding a clipboard, his white smock stained with blood. Kidd felt sick as he wondered whether it was Ace's blood or some other unfortunate victim that had come in at around the same time.
"Are you Trafalgar Law?" asked the man, staring pointedly at Kidd who appeared the saner of the two.
"That's me," Law piped up, eying the morose man who looked to be the harbinger of bad news.
"We were unable to contact Mr. Portgas' grandfather and his home telephone brings up the answering machine. We did, of course, leave a message for his family. Luckily, you come up as a third contact on his records, so you're going to have to decide whether or not to sign for a blood transfusion. He'll need two, maybe three."
"Of course I'll fucking sign," Law snarled, ripping the clipboard out of the doctor's hands. He snatched a pen out of the man's pocket next, found the appropriate slot to fill with his hasty signature, and shoved both pen and paper back to the man. "Here."
The man took them and hastily scurried away, back into the emergency ward.
Kidd managed to convince Law to sit back down and rest, and they began to watch the clock the moment a nurse told them Ace's surgery would start. After that, they were left alone to wonder what was happening inside the white walls of the ward. Four hours passed them by, in which time Law began to get anxious.
Surgical removal of a knife should not take this long. He knew exactly how long it should take, and the time was half what they'd already endured.
Something was wrong, Law just knew it.
"AAAAccceee!"
Law looked up just in time to see a streak of red, blue, and black dart past, making a beeline for the emergency room. Behind him was a stocky man with short-cropped hair, desperately trying to keep up. Something crazy was about to happen, and Law felt the innate urge to be there to see it. He would follow these two into the emergency ward, let them fight their way through and just cruise in their wake. He would get to Ace no matter what, even if it meant using Ace's little brother as a shield.
"AAAAAAcccceee!"
Luffy was here.
"Your court appearance date has been abolished."
Marco panicked. He'd been biding his time in prison, thinking about possible appeals that he could make, and now Lucci had to shut him down? He wouldn't have a chance to redeem himself? He was going to straight to Impel Down and there was nothing he could say or do to avoid his fate?
"No, there's got to be something I can say," Marco whispered through the bars of his cell. The man standing on the other side, clad in a neatly pressed black suit shook his head slightly, long black locks barely moving. "Anything! I mean, the whole thing was consensual, and Ace could vouch for that! Honestly, there just has to be something I can say!"
"No. It's over."
"But I can't even–"
"You're free."
Marco blinked stupidly, waiting for Lucci's face to change into a spiteful glare that told of his joking. But it didn't. Lucci remained as morose as usual, golden eyes twinkling dangerously under the top hat he often wore.
"W-what?" Marco finally rasped out. He had to have heard wrong. "What did you just say?"
"You're a free man again," Lucci affirmed with a slight nod. "Smoker's just finalizing the lengthy paperwork for your release from custody. Turns out that their evidence failed to remain evidence. Or something of the sort. There's nothing to convict you with, and words alone only go so far in court. Besides, no one's talking now anyway. The attention is no longer on you. In fact, you look like a victim of a much larger plot."
"What?" Some days it felt like all Lucci did was talk in rhymes that didn't make sense. "I'm free? How can that possibly be? I'm guil–" He cut himself off. No. He wouldn't say that aloud.
Lucci leaned in towards the bars of the cage, prompting Marco to lean in as well until there was no chance of anyone overhearing them. "Someone tampered with Akainu's evidence. No one knows who did it, but rumour has it that it was one of Whitebeard's men. A friend of yours, maybe. Or something. I'm not so sure though. Whitebeard is out there mounting a different type of attack. It doesn't add up that he would try to spring you at this point in time."
"What do you mean he's mounting a different attack? What is Pops doing?"
Lucci looked towards the door as if he'd heard something, tensing his shoulders and pulling back. Marco mimicked his caution, drawing himself away from the bars. He knew Lucci's ears were much more powerful than his, and it was likely that he'd heard something abnormal with them. The noise, whatever it was, passed, and Lucci leaned forward again.
"Whitebeard got a tip about Akainu from one his old contacts. One that led back to Crocodile. And you know better than anyone how Whitebeard's got a bone to pick with that man."
Marco drew in a shaky breath. Crocodile. That damned man that caused so much pain to many of the orphans at the Moby Dick. "What does he have to do with Akainu?"
Lucci's eyes flicked back to the door nervously, and Marco inferred he wasn't supposed to be divulging this information. "Business partners, as it turns out. I don't know all the details, but Akainu's in deep water and sinking fast. The special investigations team will be on to him. And since he's the one who has convicted you of your crimes and has been slated for arrest himself, his word is about as good as Crocodile's as verbal evidence. In short, there's nobody else who wants you behind bars right now. Not even Smoker's little assistant, who in fact admitted to me that she hadn't actually seen the evidence. Besides, the police hardly have time for you with this storm breaking. There are blood trails running all along this city, and they're only just discovering them."
"What about Ace's grandfather? Garp?"
"Doesn't know exactly why you're behind bars." Lucci smiled smugly. "Whitebeard got to him first a few days ago and told him all about the situation, but conveniently left out some of the details. He just knows that it's his grandson and you together. His full custody of Ace ended slightly before they threw you in here under Akainu's orders. So Ace is a free man too. His grandfather can't interfere. Not that he seems to want to. Apparently he just laughed about it and hung up."
Lucci poked him in the chest through the bars and locked eyes with him. "You haven't committed a crime. Not by the books. But remain wary and don't end up here again. Next time Lady Luck may not favour you."
His message complete, Lucci slunk away, moving smoothly and with feline precision as he exited the holding cell room. After he left, the door opened again almost immediately, and Smoker came through, dangling a set of keys from his thick fingers.
He unlocked the jail cell and swung the door open, motioning for Marco to get out.
Marco hesitated, partly because it didn't feel like he deserved to be let off the hook so easily, and partly because the grey expression on Smoker's face told him that something was wrong. Was he really going to get out of here, or had Lucci been bluffing with everything?
He followed Smoker out, who didn't say a word. Marco didn't open his mouth either, too fearful that if he said the wrong thing he'd end up right back in that cold metal cell. At length, when they were out in the main lobby and Smoker handed him his old coat, the police officer finally spoke.
"We got a call late last night from the 911 dispatchers."
Marco looked up from fumbling with his zipper. "Oh?" He wondered what this could possibly have to do with him. Probably nothing. Smoker was likely just tired of the silence and looking to make conversation.
"There was a young guy we got tasked with tracking, and I just got another call a few minutes ago from an agent in the field who said they'd found and apprehended him. He's wanted for attempted murder."
"That's…disconcerting. It must have happened in the Grand Line, didn't it?"
"Surprisingly, no. But according to my men, this guy is completely nuts, and looks like he got mauled by an animal. He fought arrest, hurting one of the guys pretty bad, and it took Tasers to bring him down. There was something strange about him, so he's being sent straight to Impel Down, if only to determine if he has any sort of mental illnesses."
Marco grimaced. He could have gone to Impel Down too and been housed with the same man. He couldn't imagine being amongst murders, even those that had only attempted to kill. "So another mad-man is locked away. That's good, I guess."
"It distracts even more from your case, certainly. It isn't too often that we get a violent youth attempting to kill someone. It was a hate crime, too, to make matters worse."
Marco perked his ears at this, playing with the cuffs on his sleeves. He had been somewhat daydreaming at this point, about what he would do when he got home. He would tend to Phoenix, first off, and then he'd phone Ace to tell him the good news. Then he'd relax and take a little time to himself to calm down, preferably while wrapped in warm blankets. The chill of the prison cell was still ingrained into his mind and body.
"You're probably wondering why I'm telling you all this."
"Yeah, I was beginning to wonder why you were getting chatty with me," Marco said, a slight laugh forming on his lips. But Smoker wasn't at all amused, and Marco let the laugh slip away from him.
"Ace was the victim of that guy we just arrested. He's in the hospital."
Marco drove carefully, minding the legal limit even though he was in a hurry. He'd seen enough of jail and people in police uniforms to last him a lifetime. After Smoker had dropped him off at his house he'd immediately run to his car and ripped out of his driveway.
Despite the adrenaline he was feeling coursing through his veins, his hands were shaking on the wheel. He just couldn't stop trembling with the fear that Ace was not going to be there by the time he arrived. Smoker had told him it had been a bad stabbing in the chest, and based on what he knew about stabbings, he knew it would be a risky wound to aggravate. And Smoker had told him that Ace was undergoing surgery.
Smoker didn't have all the details. He could tell him everything about the assaulter, but nothing about Ace, the only person who Marco cared to hear about. His mind was scrambled, all thoughts tinged with rage, and the midday traffic was bogging him down. He eventually crawled to a stand still at a traffic light behind a never-ending line of vehicles, some of them bumper to bumper.
He slammed his hands against the steering wheel, held them there, and then took a deep breath. He needed to be calm. Getting upset would only make his driving more dangerous to everyone around him.
With a low curse, Marco grabbed his cell phone out of his coat pocket. Luckily, everything that had been on him the day he was arrested had been kept at the police station and returned to him the moment he left the cell behind in his wake. Surprisingly, his phone still held a charge, and Marco was intending to make good use of the remaining battery power by calling his family.
He called his Pops first, listened to the dial tone while he inched up another foot or so with the vehicle in front of him.
"'ello?"
"Pops, it's me."
"Marco?" Whitebeard was genuinely surprised to hear his son's voice. "I didn't think they were planning on letting you out until tomorrow morning!"
"Yeah, well, Smoker told me he finished the paperwork in record time. Because something happened."
"What hap–"
"It's Ace. Ace got really badly hurt. He's in the hospital and I'm stuck in fucking traffic. Oh God, he got stabbed by some, some fucking homophobe last night!"
There was a grim silence on the other end, and Marco heard Whitebeard shuffling around. Finally, his Pops' voice once again came crackling through.
"You're heading there now, I presume? Which hospital is he at?"
"The one just outside of the North Blue district, on the edge of the Grand Line. He was stabbed in the North. I have no idea why he was over there in the first place. Ugh, it frustrates me so much that I couldn't be there for him last night!"
"But you can be there for him today, and that's what counts."
"If traffic allows," Marco growled, inching up again despite the line of cars not moving. He needed a distraction from how little progress he was making towards his destination. "How did you know I was getting out at all?"
"I got the call from Smoker yesterday. Was damned surprised. They still didn't let me come visit you though. Some damn 'no-contact' rule. Suppose I could have busted in, but I figured it would be best if I didn't jeopardize your freedom."
"Lucci said someone destroyed the evidence. Did you send someone to do that? Was it your plan? Oh God, don't tell me Thatch got involved!"
Whitebeard laughed loudly and Marco nearly dropped his phone as he went deaf in one ear. "No, no, no! I have no idea who the hell did it, but they did a damn fine job of it, apparently. Everything was gone. They left a beautiful film of the inside of a safe. Not very exciting, I gather. And I guess Smoker and the bastard were the only ones to see the film, and even then Smoker told Jimbei they only watched a few minutes of grainy evidence when that bastard handed it over. It was supposed to be viewed in its entirety at the court hearing, apparently. But there's no chance of that now!"
Marco smiled, though he was still embarrassed that he'd gotten himself into such a mess. He had been worried that Whitebeard would be ashamed of him, and was still worried that his friends and brothers would think ill of him. "What did everyone say when they found out about my incarceration?" he asked quietly.
"Well, Izou thought the reason was stupid, but you know how he operates. Thatchy was surprised that you and Ace were even together. Then he was somewhat mad at Acey-boy for getting you in trouble; he thought it had been intentional, but Ace set him straight. The others were more concerned about the fact that you were in jail as opposed to what you were in jail for."
As Marco smiled faintly at the loyalty of his family, Whitebeard laughed away. His Pops then said, "I'm a bit mad at myself though. Made a stupid mistake."
"What? Why are you mad? If anyone should be mad about their stupid mistakes, it should be me."
"Oh, I'm just mad because I didn't punch Akainu when I got the chance. Or fired him, for that matter. But what's done is done. Besides, he's going to get some tough time in the slammer anyway. Did Smoker tell you anything? Or is it still top secret?"
Marco inched up again as some cars made it through the green light only to clog up the other side of the intersection. He was about ready to scream, but talking to his Pops was keeping him sane. "Well, my lawyer tried to explain something to me, and Smoker just said Akainu got involved with Croc. Which is…weird. What have they got in common, interest wise?"
"Money. Akainu was lending Crocodile money out of the school's system. He intended to get Croc close to him so that he could get him arrested, which would apparently give him Croc's money and position in Doflamingo's mob, according to Smoker and his higher ups. You gotta understand, they're power hungry bastards, the lot of them. I guess by taking my position within the school he was supposed to gain a low profile and the money he needed for things to run smoothly. His plan backfired when Thatchy-boy got a tip from someone on the inside. One of my old pals. Came at just the right time, too." Whitebeard laughed riotously again, an earthquake in Marco's eardrum.
"Pops, to tell you the truth, I don't care too much about Akainu or Crocodile and what they've been up to right now, or how you and I seemed to be pawns in Akainu's game and nothing more. I'm just trying to take my mind off of Ace. But it's not working."
"I know," Whitebeard said softly. "My little pineapple-head is worried. But Ace is strong."
"I know."
Traffic suddenly started moving again, faster than before. His blood started to boil as he scooted the car along as quickly as he could. "I'm gonna go. I'll call you soon."
"You'll forget when you get to Ace's side. You know Marco, Acey-boy has grown on me too. Like a son."
"…I think I told you how he doesn't have a father figure."
"Don't worry; I've already got that remedied."
A.N.: I'll give you guys chapter 29 sometime sooner than next Friday. Let's shoot for Sunday. This one was slightly...short. It was a crazy week for me, and I'm praying next week will be better.
Now, may I present the wall of names, people of which I am indebted to for taking the time to leave me a little (or sometimes big) comment:
Tigereye13, Rell, midsummersunshine, GoddessOfNight08, FlyingMonkiesAttack, Teruul, Kol Kol Russia (x2), ghostlyangel, IndigoButterfly, Teh Drama Llama, Undertaker's Hattress, wonder-woman, XxCrazyChickxX, Panny (couldn't reply but thanks for the ideas by the way! May work with the band one in the future ;P ), Kesshin15, Spicymint, Chakolit Chip, Phoenixwraith, thakidisbac, and AceIsTheOnly!
And an extra special thank you to those of you that have taken it upon yourselves to draw me fanart – I was certainly not expecting that delightful surprise! You have no idea how much I fan-girl over fanart. It's ridiculous.
