A/N: Hey guys I didn't respond to reviews because I'm weak and will not survive the winter. Also because I felt the need to get this chapter and the next one out stat because I'm going to prove a point. What point you ask? You'll just have to wait and see. ;)
Warning: This chapter contains LANGUAGE and MY STUPIDITY. SORRY.
There is a VERY LARGE time jump between this and the last chapter. By this chapter, Ace is already in college. There may be a few things that don't 100% make sense because with future chapters I'm going to go back and fill in the time between. Sorry. :/ Oh and yes Ace and Marco are together by now.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, Ace ranted, sprinting down the hallway, textbook and papers stuffed haphazardly in his arms. He was so fucking dead. He was so fucking dead.
God damn stupid FUCKING alarm not GOING OFF this morning! Ace mentally screamed, redoubling his speed. He'd woken up late this morning. The one morning he absolutely could not wake up late.
Because the English 101 teacher was more of a stickler for punctuality than Satan himself.
He was two minutes from being late. Two minutes. And there was an entire campus between him and the lecture hall. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ace knew running at this speed with half of a normal human's field of vision was a terrible idea. But that part had long been buried under the mental tirade of a lovely rendition of the 'fuck song'.
Any other person would have seen the other student, head bowed over a campus map, and dodged around them.
But Ace couldn't. Didn't.
Boom.
Papers flew. Ace, stunned, lay on his back, blankly staring up at the flurry of papers drifting down in a nice cloud. He blinked once, twice, a paper fluttering down over his face.
The other crash victim seemed to recover mental capacity a little faster.
"Oh my God are you okay?!" Ace dimly realized it wasn't a voice he was familiar with, male, and almost frantic with concern. The paper was lifted from his face and another person's features hovered into his vision. Ace's eye was still slightly unfocused, head still faintly ringing from colliding with concrete. He hadn't fallen that hard, but hard enough he'd sure he'd have a good-sized lump on the back of his head. "I'm so sorry! I should have been paying more attention to where I was going!" His eye refused to focus entirely on the person above him, but what he could make out made his brows furrow in concern.
"The hell?"
Black hair. High cheekbones. Freckles.
"Wow, I didn't realize I'd hit my head hard enough to have an out of body experience," Ace murmured, mostly rhetorical. The person above him seemed to pause for a moment, but then became more serious.
"…Are you concussed? Look at me!" Ace did, drowsily. There was a momentary pause, then a bright light shone in Ace's eye. He winced, trying to turn away from the light. "Hey now don't do that I need to make sure I didn't break your brain!" The person settled a gentle hand on his forehead, holding him in place. A moment later, the light was out of his eye. The person was silent for a moment. "…Your right pupil isn't dilating. That's kind of a bad sign, I'm going to take you to the-"
"Don't worry, it never does," Ace said. His brain was coming back online, and with it, more clarity. And more curiosity. He studied the person above him closely.
The guy had far shorter hair than him, and his eyes were wider – warm brown, not grey. His face was a little rounder, and if Ace had to guess he was probably shorter.
But it still stood that they looked a little uncannily similar.
Ace sat up carefully, pressing a hand to the back of his head and groaning slightly. Maybe he'd hit his head too hard. On top of that he was already late for English, so…
The person above him seemed to hover with indecision, hands poised to help, but unsure of exactly how they should do so. Ace turned to grab a few papers that had landed near him, beginning to collect them in a disorganized pile in one arm.
"Umm…what do you mean your right eye just…doesn't dilate? That can be a sign of a serious brain condition." Ace waved him off, picking up more papers.
"I'm blind in my right eye. My optical nerves on that side kind of stopped working. It doesn't dilate and I can't see out of it, but it doesn't look cloudy like most blind eyes because it's still connected to the part of my brain that keeps it theoretically functional, my sensory brain just doesn't receive the information." Ace rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "That's…uh…kind of why I didn't see you. Sorry if I made you late or anything."
"Oh! No, not at all! I was actually…kind of already late," the person laughed nervously. "I'm kind of new here. I didn't really know where I was going. Hence the map. I…probably should have been the one to see you, considering. Here, let me help."
The other person began gathering papers, stacking them in a far neater way than Ace. A few moments of silent paper-gathering passed, then Ace decided to speak again.
"So…you're new here? What are you studying?" Out of the corner of his eye he saw the guy smile softly.
"I'm pre-med. I'd like to go into nursing." Ace turned to look at him, eyebrows raised.
"Oh wow. Congratulations, that's really cool! You were probably looking for the science building then, right?" He nodded and Ace stood, gathering the last paper and stuffing them haphazardly in the front cover of his textbook. The other boy straightened as well, handing Ace the other stack of papers. Ace accepted them gratefully, smiling at the other warmly. After tucking these into the textbook as well, he extended a hand. "I'm Ace. Portgas D. Ace. Thanks for your help and sorry for making you even more late." He smiled sheepishly. The other accepted the handshake, and now that they were standing Ace found he actually was taller than the other, by a good six inches.
"I'm Marco. Marco Bodt." He seemed to be studying Ace far more closely now. "…You said Portgas, right?" Ace cocked his head a little.
"Yeah, why?" Marco – this could possibly get complicated in the future, Ace reflected – pursed his lips slightly.
"…It's probably nothing. I guess I'll see you around? I'd rather not be any later to organic chemistry than I already am." They exchanged another smile, then began heading off in opposite directions. Ace, struck by realization, turned back.
"Hey Marco!" he shouted to the somewhat distant figure. He saw Marco turn back. Ace pointed with his whole arm to the right. "The science building's that way!"
Ace was distracted during English. He was distracted during his next two classes too. He was distracted on the subway home. So distracted, in fact, that he got off a stop early. It was September, the air only just beginning to acquire the bright tang of autumn, so Ace decided to walk the rest of the way back, it was only a matter of a few blocks.
He was lost in thought still as he walked, the lines of the sidewalk passing beneath his feet in a hypnotizing rhythm. It was close to three o'clock, and the shadows slanted off the buildings and across the streets below. Ace took his time walking, knowing Marco wouldn't be home for another few hours.
He passed a school, the revelry of children playing on the playground exuberant and delighted. He smiled faintly as he passed, pausing for only a minute to watch. After a moment he turned away, continuing on the path home.
His thoughts were occupied, distant. It was probably just coincidence. Weird, strange coincidence. That happened, right? Sometimes people just looked alike by chance.
Then why did he seem to recognize your last name? part of his mind asked.
He continued in circular logic for the rest of the way home, and by the time he arrived still had reached no definite conclusion. He sighed, taking the keys from his pocket, unlocking the back door.
"Brother, why are we here? This isn't home." Ace stiffened in shock, the young, high-pitched voice jolting him. He whipped around, eyes landing on-
A six-year-old.
Waist high, tousled black hair, and large eyes. He had on a Mister Fantastic backpack, and a too-large straw hat was perched jauntily on his head. He was staring up at Ace with utter befuddlement written on his face, head cocked in almost comic confusion. Ace stared at him for a full 10 seconds, blinking a few times to confirm that this was not, in fact, some kind of hallucination.
"And how did you get so big so fast? Your hair's longer too!" His eyes widened, going almost perfectly round. "Do you have a superpower?! Have you been hiding your secret identity from me?!" Ace was still too stunned to even mentally formulate words, much less actually speak them. What. The. Fuck?! Who was this kid? Why in hell's name had he followed him home?! Where had he come fro -
Oh shit.
When he passed in front of that school on the way home.
…Had this kid actually mistaken him for his brother?!
Holy shit.
…
…
…
What in hell's name was he supposed to do now?!
This wasn't within the realm of what Ace knew how to deal with. Not by a long shot. He had no clue who this kid was. He had no clue what he was supposed to do now. Take him back to the school? Call the police? He'd probably get arrested for kidnapping.
He wanted to ask the kid who he was. He wanted to ask him who his parents were, if he knew a phone number. But he didn't want to scare him. If he ran off, that'd be even worse. Of all the people this kid could have accidentally followed down the streets of New York, Ace knew he was one of the safest to be with. But if this kid realized he didn't know Ace there was a strong possibility he'd run off. Possibly into the custody of someone far more distasteful. Ace swallowed.
He crouched down, getting more on the level of the child. He painted on a surprised look.
"Wow, I can't believe you found my secret hideout!" The kid's eyes almost became dinner plates they were so wide.
"Secret hideout?!" he practically shrieked. Ace grinned at him.
"Yeah! This is where I go when you're at school sometimes!" He put a hand near his mouth, dropping his voice to a stage whisper. "I'm wearing a disguise right now, don't tell anyone!" I must look like his brother in order for him to have followed me. The kid clapped his hands over his mouth, as if to show his dedication to keeping the 'secret'. …If I'm tricking him to come into the house, does that count as kidnapping? Ace thought with mild alarm. Well shit. It's not as if he was going to keep the kid prisoner, all he wanted was to keep him safe and get him back into the hands of his rightful guardians as soon as possible. It'd be okay. He grinned at the kid. "And I'll tell you a secret." He looked around, as if checking for eavesdroppers. "Sometimes Spiderman comes to hang out here too." The kid looked like he was going to have heart failure. "I don't think he's here right now, but do you want to come inside?"
The kid nodded so fast his overlarge hat slid down his forehead and over his eyes. He still had his hands over his mouth to keep the secret that Ace was in 'disguise'. Ace chuckled. "All right, but let me go in first! I have to turn off the booby traps!" Ace opened the door, leading the way into the house, the little boy on his heels. He pretended to step especially hard on one tile in the mudroom, as if it were some kind of switch.
"All right. All the traps on the first floor are turned off now. But don't go upstairs" – if the kid made a mess of his office Marco would have a cow – "there are still traps up there that aren't turned off!" The kid slipped past Ace eagerly, dropping his backpack and shoes in the mudroom before sprinting into the house beyond. Please don't let him break anything please don't let him break anything please don't let him break anything, Ace repeated in his head, unsure exactly to whom the prayer was directed, only hoping that someone it would be answered. He shut the door, locking it. …Maybe there'll be a phone number written on the backpack? Ace moved to pick up the backpack, only to be interrupted by an ecstatic shriek shortly followed by the boy barreling into him, latching his arms around Ace's waist. He was almost knocked back by the force.
"OHMYGOSHSPIDERMANWASHERELOOKLOOKLOOKFOLLOWMEOHMYGOSH" The kid released his waist only to grab his hand, dragging him into the living room. He pointed excitedly at the corner where the joint of two walls met the ceiling.
There was a fucking huge spider web.
Ace felt the color drain out of his face. Oh fuck no. FUCK no.
"LOOK! SPIDERMAN LEFT IT!" The kid turned huge eyes to look at him, gaze almost manic with ferocious interest. "IS HE STILL IN THE HOUSE?!" Ace forced a smile, not allowing himself to think where exactly that spider might be now.
"I'm pretty sure he's not here right now. He sent me a message saying he wouldn't be back till-" The kid heard the back door open before he did.
"SPIDERMAN?!" Instantly he released Ace, practically teleporting back around the corner and into the mudroom with his speed.
"What the-!"
"HEY! You're not Spiderman! Spiderman's not blonde!" Well shit. Marco's home. A whole hour early. Ace contemplated just throwing himself out the window and running. It'd be so much easier.
Instead, with a despairing sigh, he rounded the corner back into the mudroom. Marco was staring at the kid like he thought he'd wake up from whatever sick dream this was if he stared long enough. The boy was staring back at him accusingly.
"Who're you? And what're you doing in the hideout?" he asked, almost interrogating. Ace sighed.
"That's Marco. It's his hideout too-" The kid turned back to look at him in utter bafflement.
"What? He's not Marco, you're Marco-" He cut himself off, eyes widening. "Uh oh. But you're in disguise and I wasn't supposed to tell anyone…" he turned his gaze back to Marco, fierce and threatening. "Don't tell anyone! Marco's in disguise! It's super secret!" Marco's mouth was open slightly and he was blinking repeatedly, seemingly trying to discern the adequate response. And suddenly it clicked in Ace's brain.
"And how did you get so big so fast? Your hair's longer too!"
"He's not Marco, you're Marco!"
Well damn. Who had he met, just this morning, who looked just like him?
Seemed like this was karma's way of getting back at him for body checking an innocent passerby.
Ace picked up the kid's backpack, eyes flicking over it until they found what they were looking for. Thank God kids put their names on everything.
"Hey Luffy, why don't you come into the kitchen and I'll get you a snack?" He'd only started to say the word 'snack' when Luffy's eyes were focused on him so singularly it startled Ace.
"FOOD."
Ace led the way back into the kitchen, taking the backpack with him. He was really hoping there would be a phone number somewhere on it.
He set it on the counter, gesturing Luffy towards the table to take a seat. Marco entered the kitchen a moment later, looking like he was more on top of things. He approached Ace and dropped his voice low enough that Luffy couldn't hear.
"Ace what the hell is going on?" he asked. Ace could tell by his tone he wasn't mad, not yet, just surprised.
"He followed me from that elementary school a few blocks away, he thinks I'm his brother, Marco. Marco Bodt. I told him I was in disguise when he asked me why I looked different because I didn't want him running off and being picked up by someone infinitely worse than me." Ace's gaze shifted to pleading. "Please, Marco. Just for a few hours. Just until I can contact his family." Marco sighed, lifting a hand to gently brush a few hairs from Ace's face.
"It's not like I'd kick him out on the street. What can I do to help?" Ace's face split into a grin.
"Check the backpack for a phone number?" Marco turned to do as asked, smiling to himself when Ace produced some cookies from the pantry, coupling them with a tall glass of milk, saying superheroes needed strong bones to save the city. Marco's eyes were warm with fondness, watching Ace interact with Luffy. He's got such a soft spot for kids.
Marco was about six inches from having a meltdown.
After finishing his last class of the day he'd gone to the elementary school to pick up Luffy, like usual. He'd rushed to catch the earliest subway, knowing Luffy hated to wait. It'd been a good day, and he'd had a little left over money from his job. He'd been planning to take Luffy out for ice cream.
Only Luffy wasn't at the school.
Marco had searched everywhere on the campus, the playground, the classroom, the cafeteria, everywhere. He'd asked every adult in the building, parents and teachers alike. Then he'd asked the kids.
Nobody seemed to know anything.
Marco had felt the edges of panic beginning to set in then.
And he had no clue what to do.
A thousand terrible possibilities ran through his head, a thousand scenarios, each more terrifying than the last. His heart rate accelerated, his breathing shallowed, and he was pretty sure he was shaking. The thought of something, anything, happening to his little brother terrified him more than anything. And he couldn't think of anything else.
Marco realized he was panicking. That didn't make it any less of a reality that he was panicking, and couldn't think straight. He had his phone pressed to his ear before he realized what he was doing, and it was ringing before he was conscious of whose number he'd dialed.
"Hello? Marco?" Marco clung to the voice like a lifeline.
"Jean Luffy wasn't at school what if he's missing what if something happened oh God what if someone took him-" he realized he was talking impossibly fast, his heart clenching painfully in his chest.
"Whoa whoa whoa. What? Speak more slowly. What happened?" Marco felt tears of fear rising in his eyes.
"Luffy's not here. He was supposed to be here, Jean! And what if-" he choked on a sob, "What if-" he couldn't even complete the thought. There were too many 'what if's.
"First thing's first you need to calm down," Jean's voice was serious, direct, almost harsh. But it was his tone that broke through Marco's crushing panic. "You freaking out doesn't help anything. Take a deep breath. Slow down and think. Is there anywhere he might have possibly gone on his own? Might he have just wandered off? Did anyone see him leave? Might your dad have gone to pick him up today?" Marco sniffed, forcing himself to calm down. Jean was right. He couldn't panic. He forced himself to slow down and think about the questions Jean had asked. On the other end of the line, he could hear him moving around.
"We always agreed to meet here, so he wouldn't have just wandered off. I already talked to everyone at the school, nobody saw him leave. Nobody. Even his teacher wasn't paying attention. My dad couldn't have come to pick him up, he had work all day today," Marco listed, looking again around the schoolyard, just in case. No familiar head of black hair romped about. He felt his heart give an uncomfortable squeeze.
"He still goes to the same elementary school, right?" Jean asked.
"Y-Yeah."
"Start walking around the block, shouting his name. Knock on doors and ask people if they saw someone of his description walking by. I'll be there in fifteen minutes." A tiny beat of silence. "And Marco?"
"Yeah?"
"We're going to find him. We will." Marco's eyes closed, tears desperately trying to escape. I hope you're right. I pray to God you're right.
"Marco. We will." Jean sounded so sure. Marco felt a tiny iota of doubt fade away.
"…Yeah." Marco started walking towards the sidewalk.
"You want me to stay on the line with you?" Marco straightened his shoulders, holding his head high and forcing himself to act according to how the situation actually was, not all the possible worst-case scenarios.
"No. I got this. Call me when you get here."
"All right. Keep me posted." And he hung up.
Marco circled the block, shouting Luffy's name, careless of what others thought of his volume. When this had produced no results, he went down the street, systematically knocking on every door and politely asking if anyone had seen his little brother.
He didn't let it show how much the negative responses were affecting him.
He'd been about to start the two-block radius when his phone rang.
He answered it without even checking caller ID. "Hey Jean are you here yet? Where are you?"
"Oh, um…" Marco paused. That definitely wasn't Jean's voice. "This is, uh, this is Ace. I found this number on the inside of a backpa-" The name and voice sounded familiar, vaguely, but Marco couldn't pin them to a face.
"Oh my God did you find Luffy? Is he with you? Is he all right?"
"Yeah, yeah he's fine! He…well, he followed me home when I walked past his school and uh…I wasn't exactly sure what to do, but I found this number in his backpack and-"
"Where are you? What's the address? I'll come get him right now!" Like hell he was leaving his little brother with a stranger for another moment. As it was read off, Marco practically seared it into his mind. He knew the street. It was nearby, only a few blocks away.
"I'll be there in three minutes!" After receiving an affirmative on the other end, Marco hung up and started sprinting, back the way he'd come, towards the address the person on the phone had given him.
He passed the school on the way, and spotted Jean standing outside, phone raised to his ear. Barely slowing down, Marco grabbed his arm, dragging him with him.
"Whoa! The fuck man?!" Jean sputtered, stumbling.
"Someone found Luffy," Marco panted. "They called my phone number because I'd written it on the inside of his backpack. They gave me an address."
"Oh shit." Jean now had his feet underneath him and was running just as fast as Marco. They whipped down a few blocks, around two corners, and Marco started checking house numbers.
They came to a panting stop outside the door, Marco knocking frantically.
A distant, minor commotion came from inside the house, and a moment later the door was opened. Ace, seeing who it was, opened it wider, allowing Marco a limited view into the house.
"Hey! I am so sorry-" Ace started.
"WHAT?!" Luffy had his head around the doorframe of the kitchen, and was staring, awed, between Ace and Marco. "I HAVE TWO BIG BROTHERS?!" Marco had never been so relieved to see all 3'6" of his little brother. He opened his arms, uncaring of the spectators, and when Luffy jumped into them he held him more tightly than he ever had in his life.
"Jesus Luffy, you scared me half to death! What have I told you about even talking to strangers, much less following them home?!" Luffy wriggled in Marco's arms.
"Well you said not to talk to strangers-"
"And I meant it!"
"But Ace isn't a stranger! And I didn't mean to follow him, I thought he was you!"
"Well he wasn't me, Luffy! And what if he hadn't been someone nice? What if he didn't like kids?" Marco set Luffy down, staring into his face seriously. "I know it can be hard to imagine, but there are some really scary people in the world, Luffy. Not everyone's nice. You have to be careful with people because you don't know what will make them angry, and when some people get angry, they hurt other people. Do you understand?" Luffy bit his lip, looking down at his feet. He nodded.
"…Are you mad?" Luffy's voice wavered. Marco sighed, hugging Luffy again, but less desperately this time.
"I'm not mad. I was just really worried about you," Marco said, rocking slightly with Luffy in his arms. "Promise you won't scare me like that again?" Luffy nodded against his shoulder and Marco released him. Marco straightened, taking Luffy's hand and turning to face Ace again.
"Thanks for taking care of him, I really appreciate it," he smiled wanly at Ace, the build up and release of stress and anxiety leaving him tired. Christ, he almost felt like he could faint.
"Oh no!" Ace protested. "If anything, I should be apologizing. Situational awareness is clearly something I need to…work on. Luffy was really no trouble, he was very well behaved. I'm sorry for unintentionally causing this. I kind of messed up your day twice within the span of 8 hours and a barely know you, so…sorry." Ace kind of realized he was blathering. But he couldn't stop. The next words were past his lips before they crossed his brain. "And if you ever need me to, I wouldn't mind babysitting Luffy after class. I imagine with premed you're taking more extensive classes, so if you ever need me to, really it'd be no problem." Luffy was staring up at Ace in wonder.
"I get to hang out with bigger big brother again?! He had really good cookies!" Marco smiled endearingly down at him, glancing up at Ace for a moment.
"…Maybe. Assuming 'bigger big brother' doesn't make it as much of a habit to tackle children as he does other college students."
As it turned out, Marco and Ace shared a history class. After Ace had accidentally sent a text to Marco instead of…well, Marco (damn he'd been right. This was going to get complicated) complaining about an assignment due to Marco's name being higher on the 'recents' list, the two began communicating more and became fast friends.
Marco was easygoing, pleasant, and patient almost to a fault. He was easy to be around, and had a subtle sense of humor that only emerged after spending more time with him. He had a pacifying presence that was just calming to be around, and Ace, to avoid further confusion, had entered his number as 'Freckled Jesus' in his contacts.
After one particularly draining morning of English, Ace received a text from Marco.
From: Freckled Jesus
Can you come to the campus café? There's something I need to show you.
The perfect grammar and punctuation was typical of Marco's texts, but the lack of a smiley face showed Ace he was actually serious. Ace, lightly confused and having a little over an hour until his next class, made his way to the café. He didn't go here often – the drinks were overpriced and the food wasn't very good – but he did like the atmosphere. It was quiet, some tables and booths situated in the front of the café where most of the traffic was, but a few tucked back, more secluded and private. Marco was waving from one such booth, and he caught Ace's attention quickly enough.
Ace headed over without ordering anything (he got a dirty look from one of the baristas but like hell was he going to spend that kind of money on coffee that was worse than what he could make himself) and seated himself in the booth, opposite Marco.
"What's up?" he asked. The question was semi-ambiguous. It could be taken as he wanted to get right to the issue that Marco had texted about, or it could be that he was just making conversation. Depending on which way Marco took it he'd have further indication of just how serious this was. Marco was silent for a moment, chewing on his lip and staring down at the table. Finally he looked up, meeting Ace's eyes.
"…Portgas is your mother's last name, isn't it?" he asked quietly. Ace felt something in his stomach clench and he swallowed.
"…Yeah," he answered after an instant. "Why?" Marco stared down at the table again for a moment.
"…Because it was my mother's maiden name. Before she married my dad. Portgas D Sophie. And…" Marco trailed off for a moment, seemingly trying to gauge Ace's reaction. Ace was frozen, mind totally blank. His core was tightened, and his chest ached faintly. Marco took a deep breath, pulling something from under the table, placing it face down and sliding it towards Ace. "…she had a twin sister." Ace stared into his face for a moment, searching for any kind of give, any possibility of an untruth, any proof that this was some kind of cruel joke. There was none.
He reached for the yellowed, small paper and flipped it over.
His heart stopped in his chest.
A beautiful woman with long, loosely curly hair was sitting under a tree. She wore a loose, light-blue dress and had a flower tucked in her hair. She was smiling, looking so genuinely happy and alive. Ace subconsciously raised a hand to his mouth, not feeling the tears that had formed in his eyes. She might have been laughing in the picture, or at least on the very cusp of it. Freckles dotted her cheeks, a few dipping into the dimples on either side of her lovely smile. She had a small, sharp nose and wide, expressive eyes. She was beautiful.
She was holding a baby.
The bundle in her arms wasn't more than a few weeks old, and sound asleep. He had no more than the barest tuft of dark hair, and his hands were fisted in the blanket he was wrapped in. His mouth was parted ever so slightly, just enough to allow air to pass.
She was smiling at him.
And that was him, in the picture.
Ace was dimly aware of the tears on his face, but couldn't stop them or even bring himself to wipe them away. He couldn't tear his eyes from the picture. He was dimly aware of Marco studying him softly, silently, giving him time from across the table.
It was the first time in Ace's memory that he had ever seen his mother.
Ace took in a shuddering breath. "When was this photo taken?" he asked. Marco was silent for another moment, and when he spoke again it wasn't with an answer.
"…It came with a letter," he said quietly. That drew Ace's eyes up to him, if only for a brief moment. "Would you like me to read it to you?" he asked gently. Ace shook his head, silently extending his hand. Marco passed over an old, slightly stiff envelope without protest or question and Ace was grateful for his understanding. He swallowed thickly, placing the photograph on the table before carefully opening the envelope and withdrawing the letter within. He unfolded it slowly and was met with neat, slanting handwriting.
Dearest Sophie,
I know you're so desperate to see the new baby, so I've enclosed a picture – probably the best taken yet – within this envelope. You've probably already shredded the whole thing looking for it, you over excitable goof! Well, here's to hoping you didn't shred the letter, at least.
In the picture, which will be probably a week old by the time you get it, he's two weeks old. Big, isn't he? He sleeps all day and cries pretty much all night. But that's all right, he's my angel. I don't think I can properly express to you how even when he's shrieking like a banshee he's still the most precious thing in my life. But I suppose you'll understand soon enough, huh? Your due date is in, what, three weeks? Have you decided on a name yet? I mean, of course it depends on the gender of the baby and all, but do you have a short list at this point?
Speaking of names, I cannot possibly thank you enough for your gift at the baby shower. I know times are hard for you and your husband right now, but you still managed to give Roger and I the most amazing gift imaginable.
We did name him Ace.
"For all the luck in the cards." Your words were so kind. I know mother didn't approve of my marrying Roger, and even less of a baby this soon after being married, but you, my amazing, wonderful sister, stuck by us. Stuck by me. Stuck by my son.
Ace.
It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? My precious, lucky boy. Roger's already trying to teach him how to talk. He refuses to accept that babies don't start vocalizing for at least a month and a half – aside from crying of course. Ace just stares at him, occasionally drools, and sleeps frequently. I couldn't ask for a more perfect son.
How are things for you? You said in your last letter that illness prevented you from travel, are you feeling any better? You and that baby have been so brave and so strong! You're both fighters, and I know for a fact you always have been! If that baby's a boy, name him Marco. Your fierce, fiery little warrior!
I love you so much. I hope, when health and the damned economy permits, that you'll come and visit. Maybe Ace'll have his playmate by then! It's late and Ace is fussing again, but I'll be sure to write more when time permits. Thank you again for all your love, support, and the most perfect of gifts for my son. I'll be sure to explain where it came from once he's old enough to understand just how cool his auntie is for giving it to him! If he's anything like Roger he'll have figured it out for himself by the time he's 6.
"Una vita di fortuna non vorrà di gioia!" Just like nonna always said.
Ace.
For all the luck in the cards.
Thank you. I love you so, so much.
Rouge
Beside the signature was a handprint, almost unbelievably tiny, of bright red paint. Below it was a small note – Ace says hi too! We'll be having him signing his name soon, but this is it for now! – written with the same pen as the rest of the letter.
Ace's face was wet with tears, unheeded. He looked slowly back up at Marco setting the letter carefully on the table. "About your question on the date… look at the top left corner of the letter." January 18th. Ace bit back a sob. Marco looked alarmed.
"She wrote this four days before- before she-" Ace couldn't finish the thought, couldn't choke out the last few words. Not when this letter made her so much more real, so much more alive than he'd ever imagined her before. He wanted to read it again. And again. And again. And even after he'd memorized it he'd still keep reading it, just to get the tiny nuances in her handwriting when she was feeling different emotions. Marco's eyes shifted from concern to sympathy and grief.
"…I'm sorry," he said, no more than a whisper. "I…I know it doesn't mean much and I know it's 18 years too late but…I'm sorry for your loss." Ace felt a surge of attachment and companionship for Marco.
Nobody had ever said that to him.
Nobody had ever made it okay for him to be grieving over his mom.
He knew he'd never met her, not within his memory, and so perhaps it wasn't necessarily healthy of him to wish so desperately for her to be alive, but he had. Through every hard thing in his life, the thought would always be there. Things would be different if your mom and dad were still around. Every shitty thing that had ever happened. And so he desperately missed the life that could have been, the life with his mother, the life where he didn't have to endure all the shit. He had wanted someone to be there, to hold him when he was hurting, to keep him from hurting anymore. To put on bandaids and help him back to his feet the way he saw other kids' parents doing growing up.
But it hadn't been.
And it never would be.
But now she wasn't just some faceless, voiceless mask.
She was grinning at him. Speaking to him. Laughing with him.
"She loved you so much, Ace." Marco's voice was quiet, not so much penetrating his thoughts as gently settling among them. "She never wanted to leave you." Damn Marco for always knowing what to say.
"Then why am I alone?" Ace half-choked, eyes still locked on the picture, tears hot on his face. Marco smiled at him softly.
"You're not alone, don't you see? You do have a family. You do. Luffy and I are your family." Ace shook his head.
"No, no you don't want me as your family" dirty disgusting stained whore you'll pollute them you know you will keep back you know you can't have this "I'm not the kind of person you'd want to list off as a relative-"
"You're already one of us, Ace. It's an inherent part of you. It's in your blood. It's in the fierce, sudden, Portgas love you have for those select, special individuals around you. It's part of you in a way whatever experiences you think define you aren't."
"But-"
"No, Ace. I've seen it in you. The way you instantly took Luffy in, regardless of the fact you'd never met him and I know for a fact he's not the most easily handled child."
"Anyone would have-"
"No, they wouldn't. Most people would have called the police. Some would have simply told him to get lost and left him out on the street by himself. But you, in true Portgas fashion, with all our Italian fire in your blood, took him in, made him comfortable, fed him, and got him back where he belonged. Believe me. I met our grandmother. I even got to meet our great grandmother once. We all have it in us, the desire to foster, to protect, to nurture. It's in our blood. Our blood, Ace." Ace was staring at Marco, tears flowing freely down his face.
"You can't- you don't-" he choked. Marco only smiled, reaching across the table to take one of his hands.
"18 and a half years too late to back out of this, Ace.
Welcome to the family."
(A/N: So guess what I hate the end of the chapter but that seems to be happening a lot so I'm guessing it's just going to become a theme with me. It went waaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyy better in my head. But I'm shitty at writing feels. Like, SHITTY. But it takes practice I guess and I've never really done it before so I guess I'll give myself a bit of a break. But if you have any advice on how to better write feels, please PLEASE drop it in a review. Because I'm clearly shite at it.
I also feel like I'm shite at writing Luffy. How do you guys think I did? Again with more practice I'll probably get better. Bear with me. I'm learning.
Is there anyone reading here who doesn't know who Marco Bodt is? I invite you to visit askmarcoandace dot tumblr dot com and investigate the April Fool's Day posts. Or. Y'know. Just google him and read his wiki. Or both. Both are also acceptable.
Anyways, hope you liked some part of it and please bear with me if you didn't in that this is necessary set up for the next chapter. Yeah. You all are going to hate me by the end of the next chapter. yay. My favorite hobby. Pissing readers off. Jk I love you guys. But you can be touchy on occasion and I like to write about controversial topics so…..yeah. Bye.
Stuff'n'Stuff)