Thatch. The brother who was betrayed by someone he trusted wholeheartedly. The brother who was taken from them way too soon. Even though he was the first to go, each of Marco's memories of him are just as vivid as his memories of the rest of his crew, clear as day.
He hadn't changed in the slightest, yoi, Marco mused, as he noticed the chef sneaking around the ship, likely setting up another one of his many daily pranks again. He chuckled to himself as he tried to guess who would be Thatch's unsuspecting victim this time, and the answer was soon revealed when Kingdew emerged from the hallway Thatch had been sneaking around, a giant flower stuck onto his back. The crew wordlessly pointed towards where they last saw Thatch, and Stoic Kingdew didn't say anything as he stomped away below deck, following their directions.
Marco doesn't join in, only watching their antics from the side with a fond smile, looking as though he was an outsider. And in a way, he really is one. After all, this isn't his family. But as he listened to all the screams and laughter that followed Thatch's pranks, he felt relaxed, and for a while, allowed himself to indulge in the illusion that he was at home again, with his family.
"Thatch, come back here!" Izo's furious voice yelled out, and Thatch ran out onto the deck, holding what was undoubtedly one of Izo's Obis.
"Marco, save me!" He squeaked as he ducked behind Marco just as the furious crossdresser stormed onto the deck.
"Where's Thatch?" He snapped to the crew, before his eyes, scanning the deck, found the answer by themselves. He approached Marco with a scowl.
"Come out from behind Marco and face me properly, Thatch!"
"Marco, do something!" Thatch begged, holding Marco in front of him.
"Don't use me as a shield, yoi." Marco said lazily, but made no attempts to interfere. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he reminded himself not to act so casually with them, that no matter how much they seem like it, this crew isn't his family. They don't know him, and he doesn't know them, just the way it should be. "Why don't you just return him his Obi and apologise to him, yoi?" Of course, if they had been his family, he never would've said those words. Izo absolutely hated anyone messing with his makeup and clothes, and would never forgive someone who did, even with an apology. Several times, Thatch had to appease him with food, and when that didn't work, he just left it up to time to work its magic. Marco was eventually snapped out of his thoughts when he realised that everybody was staring at him in disbelief. "What, yoi?" He raised an eyebrow in confusion.
"Nothing, we just thought for sure that you'd- Nevermind." Izo began before seemingly thinking better of it and just snatching his Obi out of Thatch's hand, returning below deck. Behind him, Thatch sulkily slinked away to somewhere else, muttering something along the lines of "I can't believe it didn't work", whatever that meant. At Marco's questioning gaze, everyone on deck averted their gazes and quickly went back to whatever they were doing before. Marco simply shrugged and walked away, but he didn't miss the looks of confusion, disappointment and disbelief the crew shot him as he left.
"Say, Marco, I wanted to ask you something for a while now." Marco flinched when he heard the voice of Ace calling out to him. He had been sitting by himself near the back of the deck, where Ace had sat once before he joined the crew. From where he sat, he was away from the rest of the crew gathered on the deck, but he could still hear them clearly. It made him think of his family, and he had been in mid-reminisce when Ace approached him.
"Sure, yoi. What is it, yoi?" Marco looked up as Ace stopped in front of him.
"I'm just curious, but why don't you call him Oyaji too?" If the rest of the crew had noticed the way Marco avoided addressing their captain in any way, they hadn't spoken up. But of course, Ace in his very own Ace-like manner didn't even think twice about it.
"I can't, yoi." Marco admitted softly to the Second Division Commander. He's not lying. He really couldn't call this Whitebeard 'Oyaji' when he's not really his Oyaji. And Edward Newgate, or Whitebeard, or any other name just sounds awkward and downright wrong to him, having called him Oyaji for so long.
"Sure, you can." Ace continued, as if he hadn't noticed Marco's inner turmoil. "You're a part of this crew now, and that means you're his son, like it or not. I'll bet Oyaji will love for you to call him Oyaji too."
"I can't, yoi." Marco repeated with a sigh, his shoulder slumping in defeat. "I just can't, yoi. And what about you, yoi?" He asked, putting on a smile. He won't admit it, but he's sure the crew has probably already noticed anyway, that he doesn't really address them by name either. It's for the same reason he can't bring himself to call Whitebeard Oyaji. Because this might be his crew, but they're not his family.
"What do you mean, what about me?" Ace frowned. "And I wanted to ask about this too, but why don't you ever call us by name? I have a name, you know, and it's Ace."
"I know that, yoi." Marco gave a humorless chuckle. Of course he knows. He's known for a long time. Ah, but this isn't his Ace. This is a new Ace, without any memories of his past life. "And what I mean is, why do you call him your father, yoi?" Ace gave a thoughtful hum, before he gave Marco such a wide grin that it made Marco feel his own jaw aching.
"Because he calls us his sons!" He was sure he forgot how to breathe for a moment when Ace spoke those words. "We're just a bunch of outcasts hated by the world. So it makes us happy. It's just a word, but it makes us happy!" Those exact same words. Word for word. It took all of Marco's self-control, trained carefully over the years, to repress any reaction that may come off as weird and stifle the hope that bubbled up within him of having his family again. Instead, he just drew a shuddering breath and shot Ace a melancholic (and hopefully unnoticeably shaky) smile.
"I see, yoi. That's a wonderful reason, yoi."
Marco found himself sitting on the whale figurehead of the Moby Dick afterwards, staring out at the sea. The events from earlier replayed in his head, and when compared with the family in his memories, he found too much similarity to just simply brush it off. For a moment, he had the absurd thought that maybe his family hadn't forgotten him after all. Maybe they really are his family.
But that's impossible, Marco instantly argued back with himself. They can't possibly be his family. His family had died centuries ago. There was no way this crew remembered him, or they would've said so by now. And not to mention his encounter with Whitebeard when he was first reborn… Marco shook his head. Yes, he's certain of it. People don't remember their past life after being reborn. As much as he wished so desperately for it, this crew is not his family.
"Marco, is something bothering you?" He jumped slightly as Whitebeard walked up to his side and sat down beside him.
"It's nothing, yoi." He swallowed as he turned to look at him. "What brings you here, yoi?"
"Gurarara, I just like to watch the sea once in a while." Whitebeard spoke with a soft smile on his face as he gazed out at the sea. "For I, too, am a child of the sea, just like everyone else." Marco turned his eyes back towards the sea, smiling fondly at the familiar phrase.
"I see, yoi." Silence enveloped them for a while before he spoke again. "Can I ask, why did you ask me to join your crew, yoi?" He kept his gaze fixed on the sea as the sea breeze tussled his hair lightly. "I am powerless and can't help you much in combat, yoi. I don't have a Devil Fruit, nor am I proficient in any weapons, yoi." Whitebeard looked to him with a twinkle in his eyes.
"You claim not to have a Devil Fruit, but I have noticed the way you avoid seastones during our recent battles, son. When we docked at that summer island a while back too, you stayed on the ship instead of joining the others in the sea." He grinned as Marco looked to him in surprise. "I'm sure you have a Devil Fruit ability, son, but you surely have your reasons for hiding it from us, so I won't pry. And even though you may not be proficient in any weapons, I've noticed that you are quite proficient in Hand-to-Hand combat, so I don't believe you are completely powerless, son."
"Thanks, but Hand-to-Hand combat isn't very helpful when there are guns and swords involved, yoi." Marco pointed out. He had made sure to stay clear of the frontlines in battle and skilfully dodged every attack directed at him so they would not learn of his Devil Fruit. It took him a while to get used to not activating his devil fruit, but he had managed somehow. "And you haven't answered my question, yoi. Even if I do have a Devil Fruit, the most I am useful for outside of combat is my medical skills, but you already have plenty of capable doctors on your crew, yoi. You don't need someone like me, yoi."
"You don't have to be useful to prove that you are worthy of being my son." Whitebeard spoke with a disapproving frown at Marco's words. "That is solely up to me to decide, and I have decided that you are my son, so you are my son. That's all there is to it."
"You know nothing about me, yoi. How could you just ask me to join your crew and become your son despite that, yoi?" The old man only laughed.
"Gurarara! You looked like you needed a family, that's all." He said, patting Marco's shoulders affectionately.
No, Marco didn't voice his bitter thoughts. I don't need a family, yoi. What I need is my family, yoi.
"The First Division Commander?" Marco froze. Ace nodded.
"Yeah. We've never had one since the crew was formed, and Oyaji's been complaining about needing someone to share the workload with. Not to mention all that paperwork piling up. You're smart and responsible, and I'm sure everyone would agree you're best fitted for the job." Marco felt the pull in his heart, but he forced the longing down and shook his head.
"Shouldn't that be left to someone more trustworthy, yoi? Like someone who's been in the crew longer, yoi? I just joined not long ago, yoi!" He wasn't sure why he was protesting this much when it would finally make things seem normal again. Just like it was before.
They're not my family, the usual reminder following the thought came to mind dutifully and almost instantaneously, having been brought up way too many times since he joined this crew.
"Doesn't matter." Ace gave a casual shrug. "I joined not long before you did too, but you met me as the Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, didn't you? And besides," Ace's gaze darkened, "being in the crew for a long time doesn't mean you're more trustworthy than the others." Marco didn't even have time to wonder what exactly could've brought such a dark look to Ace's eyes as he spoke those words before the freckled teen blinked, and then he relaxed, the fire in his eyes and the tension in his form fading away. "If I can do it, what makes you think you can't?"
"That's different, yoi!" Marco hissed.
"How so?" And Marco found himself speechless. How was it different? His Ace had become Second Division Commander too, a few months after he joined, and his family had been perfectly fine with it. How was the situation with this Ace any different? His family had accepted him as First Division Commander too, back when he had been an inexperienced teen who'd only been on the ship as an apprentice. How was this situation any different from how it was with him back then?
Except it was, came the bitter thought, because this was not his Ace, and this was not his family. How could he take command over this crew, answering only to the new Oyaji, when he couldn't even bring himself to call them by name for fear that he would slip up and start treating them like his family they don't remember being, bringing up experiences they don't remember having?
"It's just different, yoi. It's not the same, yoi." He sighed in defeat, looking down. "It'll never be the same, yoi." He added under his breath bitterly.
Just to clear up any possible confusion, the new Whitebeard Pirates only know Marco as this random stranger who popped in one day and was recruited by Whitebeard, is not a devil fruit user, but has a bit of skill with the sword and enough medical knowledge to be one of their ship's doctor, though Marco refused the position (so that no problems would arise should something happen to make him leave in the future).
Now that that's been said, enjoy (this pain-filled story) and reviews are always welcomed!
