Notes: Hello everyone and Happy New Year ! I hope you're all fine and I wish you all to succeed in whatever you attempt this year !

I'm sorry for the wait, this chapter was finished since New Year but as it ends with an evil, evil cliffhanger I couldn't let you have it knowing that I couldn't write in the weeks after (learning for my exams and then my exams) so I waited to be able to have more time to begin chapter 16 ! So this chapter is emotionnaly heavy, dark, it's supposed to be the worst one. Like reeeeally the worst. So if you don't like cliffhanger, don't read this one and wait for the next, if not, I hope you'll enjoy ! ( Sorry not sorry for the evil evil heartache this chapter will give you, brace yourselves !)

Warnings: If you are triggered by anything, check the notes at the end to know what to expect of this chapter, I don't know if I should warn you there or not, as I don't want to spoil you, so let me know if I should put my warnings here ! And if you think I should add more to the description, tell me, thank you !

Unbeta-ed, sorry for any mistakes, don't hesitate to point them out and I'll edit the chapter ! :D

Chapter 15: Give Me Oblivion

His night had been restless. He hadn't been able to sleep much, his mind plagued by thoughts of his broken friendship. Things could have gone a different way. He could have swallowed his pride. Or he could have just told Kid the truth. But now it was done, over, well and truly broken. Smashed to smithereens.

A bitter laugh escaped Ace as he got up, shivering as his feet touched the cold ground.

Luffy was still sleeping as the house was silent. Ace got up and went to make some coffee, not feeling hungry enough to cook - or rather not hungry at all. The void in his belly couldn't be filled with food. He sat at the table staring listelessly into his hot mug cradled in his hands, the steam escaping from it warming his face. He looked out the window, at the snow covered trees and at the greyish sky. Rays of sunlight seemed to want to pierce the veil, some parts of the clouds brighter than the rest. A bird suddenly perched on the window ledge, its black feathers clashing against the greyness of the world outside. Its little head turned left and right quickly and a shrill escaped it, going higher and higher. A second bird appeared, its wings unfurled, his orange belly like a splotch of color against the grey sky, landing next to its friend. They huddled together, watching the landscape along with Ace.

The young man felt like drawing. He hadn't since the last time he went into his studio. He hadn't felt like it, hadn't thought he would be able to even hold a pen without shaking or letting it fell on the floor, his hands unable to hold it anymore. His symptoms had decreased a bit since he started taking his medications but it still occured every once in a while. It occured too much. Stumbling, dropping things, falling.

Ace got up on shaky legs, feeling an incredible restlessness he hadn't felt in a while. He needed to draw.

Opening the door to his studio he was assailed by the pungent smell of paint and stale air. No one had gone inside his room for a while and the window hadn't been opened either. Flicking the light on, Ace went to the window to clear the air. A gust of cold wind entered the room, chilling him to the bone. Shivering he closed the door and set up his brushes and a large piece of paper on his table, not having gotten around to buying more canvasses.

The light of the day wasn't enough to illuminate the room and Ace let the artificial lamp on. He felt giddy, excitation thrumming in his whole body. He began blending the blue paint into the white using a soft brush to obtain a pale blue, his mind settling entirely on his actions. A little sky blue here, more deep-blue there, a touch of light orange on the edges, some more yellow around here. His painting began to take shape but it looked sloppy, colors not the right tone, shape looking messy, straight lines curving at the edges. It didn't look any good. It wasn't any good.

Tearing the paper to shreds, he threw it in the trash before taking another piece of paper and nearly ripping it half in his anger. Breath in, breath out. Calm down. Empty your mind.

Ace took a pencil and started to draw without the colors hindering him, letting the drawing take shape on its own. A dragon, teeth sharp and dripping with blood, dark eyes boring into his own looked back at him for a moment but Ace could see all its flaws. Its crooked mouth, its assymetrical eyes, its scales looking nothing like they should. It was no good. No good at all. He needed to draw something simpler, something else. Something he was used to. Burning flames, intertwined tightly, growing stronger as they fed each other, growing bolder as they reached the edges of the paper, swirling and blending together. Ace added some colors, a burning red, a soft orange and a black as deep as coal. Looking at the drawing and at his own tattoos, covering his forearms he wanted to laugh and cry. God. Since when had he become so sloppy ? Could he have lost his skills and his talents in so short a time ? Was he now unable to draw anything ?

He picked up his brushes. The colors were harsher on this one, soft hues forgotten for something imbued with blood red tones, combined with deep grey and teal. An ashen seaside landscape appeared under his brush, a burning sky casting dark shadows on the desert ground, a single humanoid shadow, its back to the painter, stood on the edge of a cliff, ready to jump in a sea in turmoil, waves nearly licking the sky. Setting his brushes aside, he looked at the paper angrily. His feelings had blended in the paper, dark and bitter. Blood red. Hellish. He dipped his brush in black paint and made the shadow stood more vividly, darker, larger.

Splotches of water blurred the drawing, making the dark look grey. More dripped on the drawing, splotches appearing here and there, smudging the colors, blending them, ruining everything. Raising a hand to his face Ace realised he was crying. Again. He sniffled and closed his eyes resolutely. Not now. Still, his feelings were bursting free, dampening his painting, making it unrecognizable, not that it looked any good to begin with. Everything was happening so fast, he didn't have time to stand back up that something else made him crumble. Every-fucking-time.

He looked down and crumpled the paper in his hand, paint staining his hand but he couldn't care less. He made a tiny ball out of it, trying to pour his feelings into it and throwing it away. He got up and made his way to the bathroom, rinsing his hands, red bleeding out of his palms, turning pink with the water. He looked up and faced his reflection. Hair askew, eyes blood shot and red rimmed, cheeks damp with tears. He looked like shit. Crazy. His eyes lacked their spark, they were dull. He hadn't noticed, hadn't taken a good look at himself in awhile. Once, he thought he was handsome, now, he didn't even care. He looked half-crazed and out of his mind. Ace sighed, feeling his self esteem crumble slowly. Splashing a bit of water on his face he tried to put on a smile on. He didn't want to worry Luffy. It looked like a grimace more than a smile but it would have to do.

Ace made his way back to the kitchen, opening the fridge to fetch eggs to start with breakfast and upon closing it, his eyes fell on the calendar, some anime calendar thing about pirates that Luffy loved. The 15th. He needed to go back to work. Or do something about it. He had wanted to sell his shop to Kid but now it wasn't possible anymore, Kid probably wouldn't accept. It would be a miracle if he so much as agreed to work with Ace anymore. Well, there was always Bonney. She would probably agree but Ace didn't know if she had the money. Otherwise, he could come up with something with Brook ? Maybe ? He probably should call him to set up a few things. And he needed to think about what he would do to live from now one.

A hand on his shoulder startled him back to earth and he whirled around to fend off his attacker before noticing it was just Luffy, looking at him worriedly.

"Are you okay ?" He asked. "I've been calling your name and you didn't reply, just looked at the calendar..." He began, his tone timid, his big eyes shinning with sorrow.

"Sorry, I spaced out for a second." Ace told him, his fake smile appearing on his face, not fooling Luffy if his facial expression was anything to go by.

Luffy hummed noncomitally and went to fetch a pan to make the eggs.

"Did you have a nice time with Kid yesterday ? I know it wasn't my place to call him but I was worried and I didn't want to leave you alone."

It was awful. And it doesn't even begin to describe it. Ace thought but instead he settled on something more neutral.

"It was fine. We talked a bit." And then he left. For good probably.

Luffy looked at him askance before taking place before him.

"Come on Ace. I know that there is something you're not telling me. I saw your studio, your crumpled drawings you were spacing out a second ago, looking at the calendar..."

"I'm fine, I really just spaced out." Ace stated firmly, a bit too firmly perhaps, but well.

"I told you that you can tell me anything. And I mean it. Really. I... seeing you spacing out before this calendar... I... I can help you. I'm here for you..."

Luffy fixed him with an open look, eyes shining with honesty and kindness but Ace didn't understand what Luffy was getting at. What was wrong with the calendar ? Luffy didn't inquire about Kid ? Ace turned back to look at the calendar once again but couldn't find that anything was amiss and then suddenly, it hit him like a ton of brick.

"Is it because tomorrow is the 16th ?" Luffy asked before Ace could say anything, his voice small, guilt and sorrow swirling in his dark eyes.

The 16th. Hell. The 16th of January. Ace felt light headed all of a sudden. So much things had pilled up on his plate recently that he had all but forgotten about it. The 16th of January. It had been six years ago. Six years ago that he had gotten together with Marco. It was a date he had celebrated once upon a time. A date on which he had cried his heart out just last year. A date he had forgotten this year. His heart ached suddenly, filling with a deep old pain and overall sadness. It still hurt so damn much despite time passing by. His breath came out in short pants and he got up quickly, dizzily and ran to the bathroom, crumbling before the toilet, retching as his heart tried to crawl out of his chest. God. Could life give him a fucking rest ? Ace could feel Luffy's hand rubbing his back soothingly but he shrugged him off and got up slowly.

"Ace..." Luffy pleaded.

"It's fine. I... I'm sorry, it's just, It's still raw." He stammered, managing to get the words out of his mouth despite feeling like vomitting yet again. "I... I don't want to talk about it. Please."

Luffy nodded, apoligizing before stirring the conversation on safer grounds, talking about his daily life and making breakfast as Ace sat at the kitchen table, half-listening to his brother rambling, half feeling like his heart wanted to escape from his chest by his throat. But he needed to stay strong. He had decided to let Marco go. He had decided not to think about him anymore. So why did it hurt so goddamn much ? Let me forget, please if there is an higher being above, let me forget all about it.

- Letting go -

His eyes hurt. Staring so long at a computer screen would do that to anyone. Marco sighed and rubbed his forehead and eyes, attempting to massage his weariness away. He was tired and it was only around three. He got up and stretched his legs, going to his coffee machine to pour himself one more mug; he didn't count them anymore today. The liquid was lukewarm, nearly cold. Sighing yet again, he made his way to the door to go in search of a microwave as his own was... out of order due to unforseen circumstances.

Haruta rose her head as he got out, a bright smile not reaching her eyes on her face, a scheming gleam in her gaze. Marco's eyes narrowed in suspicion and he pursed his lips but didn't say anything. She had been doing that for a while and he was sure it had something to do with Izo coming back in town. Huffing he approached Haruta's desk and hold out his mug.

"I don't know where the microwave is." He said matter of factly.

A smirk graced his sister's features in a rather devious way, as if she was gonna ask him to make a deal with the devil.

"Is that so ? Why, what happened to the perfectly functional one you had in your office ?"

Marco grunted, levelling a hard stare at her.

"Come on, Marco, you can't expect me not to laugh at you for years when you put a spoon in your microwave."

Marco felt a small smile pulling his lips up but tried to school his features. He wouldn't give her more ammunitions. He had been careless in putting a spoon in his microwave but it wasn't as if he had done it on purpose. Working too much did that to people...

Haruta laughed at his sour look and rose from her sit, making her way down the corridor.

"Come on, I'll show you the way." She added, a smirk still plastered on her face.

Marco was sure that all of their siblings would know about this and would tease him to no end next time they saw each other.

They walked side by side, toward this floor's breakroom, passing before the offices of executives.

"I'll have the microwave replaced by the end of the week, don't worry."

"Thank you."

The corridor seemed to be endless and each step he took seemed like such a drag, furthermore he could feel Haruta's eyes on him.

"Yes, Haruta, is there something you want ?" He asked, turning to see her face, not willing to beat around the bush anymore. He knew all too well what was on her mind and he couldn't find it in himself to be pissed anymore. He was just tired.

She was bitting her lips, unsure of how to reply.

"Not necessarily. You seem exhausted, even more than usual and ... please let me help you." She said, pleaded really, her eyes shining with sorrow.

Marco sighed.

"I'm fine, Haru. Truly, I am. I'm sorry that I worry you but really, I just feel tired."

"You've been working none stop since Christmas !" She huffed, glaring at him.

"The beginning of the year is always busy, I needed to tie some important deals and well, this one week long trip to New-York set me back on a few things." He argued, no heat in his words.

"I know... but you should take better care of yourself. We can't help but worry. And it's not just Izo and me."

"Yeah... I can't promise you anything but coming back here, seeing all of you, it has helped. I... I'll... I'll get better with time."

"Marco..." Haruta murmured, not really believing him.

"Ah, here's the microwave. Thank you for coming along Haruta." Marco said suddenly, a way to dismiss the conversation entirely.

His sister gone, Marco sighed and slouched on a chair, his head craddled in the palms of his hands, elbows on the table. He watched his mug spinning in the microwave under the yellow light, steam beginning to rise slowly. The quiet ding didn't make him get up. Haruta was right, he was working himself to the bone, not taking a second for himself. He had been doing this for the past two years so it wasn't really new but his family worried. He had been equal part glad and pissed at having to come back here, in the city of his youth. He hadn't been happy in New-York but at least his thoughts had been muddled by cheap sex, alcohol and work. Here, with his family always on his back, he couldn't go on with this kind of life style and to his surprise, it did him good. He couldn't spend much time with them, running a business empire as large as his father's was, was hard and time consumming but his siblings made a point to stop by every now and then, dragging him to their homes to eat dinner with their family and children. Being surronded by so much love had soothed the ache he felt. He still felt it though, even more after seeing Ace again. The once love of his life. Bitterness and fondness overwhelmed him and he sighed again, letting his head drop on the table, feeling the coldness of the glass against his cheek. He needed to get himself back together right now. It wouldn't do for employees to walk in on him sprawled on the table. Looking at his watch he realized that it was still early in the afternoon and that he still had a lot of work to do. He got up reluctantly and sluggishly made his way to his office, his cup of warm coffee in hand. It wasn't late enough for him to go home and his work wouldn't do itself on its own.

- Letting go -

The door chimed as another client entered Spade, a young man looking a bit scared, eyes wide and biting his bottom lip. First timer. They always were like this, scared of the neddle that would carve a tattoo on their skin. Bonney hoped he had thought long and hard about getting a tattoo before coming here and that it wasn't some stupid college student dare. A tattoo was for life, it wasn't to be taken lightly. Still, she would do her job regardless and she took pride in it. She loved this shop as if it were her own, grateful that Ace had been willing to employ her despite not knowing her. She was even more grateful to Kid for telling her about this oportunity.

Kid... It hadn't been love at first sight in highschool. Kid was the kind of guy who always got caught in fights and came out bruised and bloody but victorious, not really the kind of crowd Bonney hanged out with usually. Still, they became friends somehow.

Kid, Law and Bonney had done their three years of highschool in the same class. They had been grouped up in their first year to work on a year long project which nearly ended in murders. Group works tended to do that to people but they had finally managed to work out their differences. They didn't have a lot of things in common but through the hardships of working on a group project they had managed to build a weird friendship. They didn't always hang out with each other at school, having their own groups of friends but they sometimes used to spend time together. Now that they were older, Bonney saw a lot less of Law who always was an associal bastard and a lot more of Kid as he was her colleague. Even if he was a gruff moron, stealing her chocolate bars even if she always knew when one was missing, she cared for him. As such she had noticed that Kid was hurting since Ace rejection but she had trouble doing anything about it. He was pretty private and didn't really like her nosing around. What's more he was averse to talk about feelings. That blasé jerk.

Since the end of autumn and especially with Ace's taking some time off the atmosphere in the shop had been heavy and gloomy. Moreover it had been a little over two weeks since she had last seen her boss here. It had never happened before, Ace taking so much vacation time. He was too dedicated to his work to just leave the shop unattended. Bonney didn't know what was going on and she wished she did so that she could at least help. Ace had changed since November, and December had been even worse. He had been on edge, not tattooing people anymore, locking himself up in his office and doing paperwork. Of course she had noticed this but if Kid was an uncommunicative guarded moron, Ace was way worse. She hadn't been able to broach the subject with her boss, he always found an excuse to avoid the subject. That coupled with Kid's behaviour, it made things difficult in the shop. Kid was more withdrawn and even Bartolomeo's cheerfulness hadn't been able to break Kid out of it. Bonney had tried to talk to her friend but to no avail.

She sighed as she got up, Kid was throwing a dark glare at the young man fidgeting on the doorstep as if he had just insulted him. His temper was hair trigger today. More than usual.

"Hello ! Welcome to Spade ! What can I do for you today ?" She asked chirply, making a shooing motion with her hand toward Kid, telling him to get lost with his attitude.

Even if everything was going to shit, she wasn't going to let him – or Ace – ruin this shop. It wasn't too late to do something about it.

- Letting go -

It was freezing outside, Marco's breath coming out in white puff in front of his face. The tip of his nose had reddened because of the cold and he had to keep his hands in his pockets to keep them warm. Why had he decided to go outstide again ? Ah yeah, to get some air. It was around four and snow was still falling from the sky, blinding him slightly. It had started around two, when he was still at work, and it didn't seem to want to stop.

Marco was walking slowly on the sidewalk, lost among the other passers-by. People moved past him quickly, car sped along the road, blurred images in his peripheral vision. After drinking his coffee in the break room he had made an hasty retreat to his office as employees began to fill the room for their own break, startled at seeing him here. It wasn't that he never saw them, it just wasn't usual for him to wander in his building. Coming back at his desk he hadn't been able to get any work done, thoughts swirling in his mind as tiredness seeped in his bones. He needed to get some air. Packing up in a hurry, he had left as soon as the idea had crossed his mind. He needed to get out. Haruta had yelled something, probably a worried "where the heck are you going ?" but he hadn't replied, punching the ground floor button of the elevator.

He knew that tomorrow was the sixteen of January. Was all too aware of its meaning. Though it was meaningless today. He was tired of being angry, bitter, cold, withdrawn. It wasn't him and he knew it. People around him too and they worried.

The gates of the park was as he remembered it, the wrought iron a deep black, not a spot of rust to be seen despite the weather and the time passing by. The paths hadn't changed either and the frozen lake at the east entrance was still being used by ice-skaters.

Marco walked around it, taking in this forgotten landscape. He hadn't set a foot in it in two years and it was a shame. This park was truly beautiful. Children were screaming and running after each others, throwing snowballs haphazardly. As Marco watched them with a small smile on his face, he was nearly trampled by a wet dog which came barreling into him out of nowhere.

The hill stood right before him, a lone tree sagging under the weight of the snow at the top, near a little bench. Marco still remembered the view. The way was cleared but snow was slowly building back up on the winding path to the top. He should have worn boots, his socks would be soaking wet before he was halfway. Shaking his head he began to make his way painstakingly through the snow. He felt warm enough once he managed to reach the top, panting with the effort. Trudging through the snow, he went and sat on the wet bench, taking in this forgotten view. The sun was slowly setting as it was close to five, not that he could see it through the clouds blanketing the city. It was just growing darker.

It was here, under this tree, so many years ago that he had told Ace that he loved him. It felt like years ago and still the love and the pain felt fresh. What was wrong with him ? He wanted to see Ace. One last time. Or maybe forever. Not waking up beside him had at first torn his heart to pieces and he had turned this weakness into hatred. Now, he just felt weary. He couldn't forget but he didn't want to hate anymore. He was sick and tired of this side of himself. He wanted to move on.

Who was he kidding ? Himself most probably. He couldn't move on. He would have if he had been able to but... but it seemed impossible. And... things were different now. To put his mind at ease after his confrontation with Izo he had contacted a Private Investigator to investigate Kid and Ace's relationship and the man came up empty handed. To him there wasn't anything fishy. They didn't see each other much, didn't hang out anymore. The only note worthy thing that had happened had been the night before. Kid had gone to Ace's appartement and stormed out, visibly upset, an hour later. Ace wasn't seeing Kid.

Still, it didn't mean he never had. Marco still remembered what he had seen two years ago, still woke up from nightmares featuring those dreadful events. If only he could forget. He had tried everything, meaningless sex, alcohol, work. And still, he managed to wake up hard and aroused, chasing after mesmerizing dark eyes in his dreams.

Ace and Kid weren't together and hope blossomed in Marco's chest, immediately squashed by bitterness. Maybe, if he just saw Ace again, if they talked like Izo had told him to do. This whole thing with Kid... it was strange. On the top of the hill he had first kissed Ace he realized that he maybe should have listened to Izo. His brother had tried to talk to him but he hadn't wanted to listen. Maybe he should have. Maybe he needed to. But not now and not tomorrow, he felt too tired to tackle this. There was time, his broken heart wouldn't break any further anyway.

He shivered as a gust of wind ruffled his hair. He should go home, it was getting late.

- Letting go -

"Kid." Bonney snapped, glaring at her friend and coworker. "I'm sick of you today. What's crawled up your ass and died ?"

He had spent the afternoon grousing, complaining, insulting clients, being downright offensive. He levelled a hard stare at her and huffed before turning his back on her and stalking to the break room to gather his belongings.

"Fucking hell, Kid, talk to me or I'll break your nose."

It was past seven and Bartolomeo had already left, leaving Kid and Bonney to clean up before closing. Usually, only one of them stayed behind with Ace to do that.

"Come on then, so I can break your fucking arm and have some fucking peace !" He snarled turning around angrily and taking a few steps in her direction.

She took a quick step back, her eyes widdening, a shiver running down her spine. Kid nearly look murderous. Her fear must have shown on her face as Kid face softened a bit. He closed his eyes and breathed out slowly to calm himself down.

"Sorry." He muttered.

"It..it's fine", she stuttered still stunned. "I'm sorry I overstepped my boundaries ?" She said, her voice taking an upward inflection at the end. She might have come on him too strong but she didn't know what else to do. Didn't have any mean to make him talk but to antagonize him.

"It's alright, I... overreacted." He replied, turning back to go to the breakroom.

"Kid..." She called out, her voice a mere whisper.

He stopped but didn't turned around.

"What ?"

"I'm worried about you. I know that you're not alright and that you're hurting and I want to help because I'm your friend and that's what friends do. Help each other out, listen to them, let them cry on their shoulders. You know, friends do that. All the time. And we're friend. You're mine at least. I mean..." She babbled, unable to stop. She just wanted to help but didn't know how.

"Stop Bonney, I got it. You're my friend too..." He said shaking his head. "It's just that... I don't know what to tell you."

"Start with the beginning, it seems like a good starting point, don't you think ?" She said, trying to joke to lighten the mood.

"Yeah... come on then." he replied, opening the door to the break room and taking a seat. The coffee pot was still half full and Kid poured two mugs before putting them in the microwave. Usually the pot would be empty at this hour, Ace being addicted to caffeine. No one had thought to reduce the quantity and they often had left over coffee now that he was on leave.

"I went to see Ace yesterday. And I probably said things I shouldn't have. Sometimes I don't think before talking. He was... cold and I didn't react well. I... accused him of lying to me, not telling me what's wrong with him... I... could have handled this better."

"What happened next ?"

"I left. I couldn't bear it. He didn't want to see me and ... I got angry. I left."

Bonney didn't say it but she must have thought about it loudly as Kid let out a gruff laugh.

"I'm a moron, I know. I can't stop thinking about it."

Bonney pursed her lips and patted him on the arm in a comforting gesture.

"Do you regret saying those things to him ?" Whatever he had said and had accused him off.

"I... don't know. I think our friendship is over. We're pratically estranged now. It hurts but ... I don't know."

"Kid... Ace is your friend, your best friend... I don't know what's going on and you probably won't tell me but just know that sometimes you have to suck it up and apoligize because friends are important."

"I love him." Kid spat out, bitterness filling him mouth. "I don't want to be his friend."

"Kid..." Bonney whispered, her eyes shining with pity and sadness.

"It's hard, so fucking hard... Especially because I ruined everything..."

"Don't say that !" Bonney nearly screamed, getting up and slamming her hands on the table. "Ace is your friend and maybe he's not ready to return your feelings but you both care about each other and you didn't ruin anything ! It's a little spat, if you go and explain yourself, it can only get better ! I know Ace ! He must be devastated. You are friends and friends get over petty arguments !" She asserted heatedly.

"You don't know anything Bonney.. you don't know what I did... if you knew..." He whispered, feeling his guilt settled more heavily on his shoulders. It was becoming unbearable.

"I don't but if you feel like you did something wrong then you should apoligize."

"I don't think it will be enough..."

"You never know..." Bonney said smiling, trying to be inspiring.

"Oh I know..." Kid's voice was filled with bitterness, dripping with self-depreciation. "I'll think about it."

"Don't think too hard, letting things fester is never good."

Kid let out a bitter laugh.

"It's too late."

- Letting go -

The door banged shut at five o'clock in the afternoon, Luffy leaving for work. He had made himself scarce all day, only trying to coax Ace out of his room a few times but not bothering him with talking about his feelings. Just leaving his brother wallow peacefully, mending his broken heart back together. Or trying to glue back the scattered pieces that were left.

The appartement was blessedly quiet. No sound came from oustide, no sun filtered through the window, everything was blissfully white and silent. Ace sighed, closing his eyes burrowing himself further under his cover. A hot tea steamed on his nightstand, brought over by Luffy before he had had to leave. He had kissed his forehead, smiled, caressed his hair before going with a "sleep tight", as if Ace had been a child.

It hadn't done anything to help. It had made his chest hurt and ache even more. Feelings, buried so deep under layers and layers of indifference and need to forget had broken free. And it hurt. Luffy's kind words would do nothing to soothe the pain he was feeling right now. It was too deep, too rooted in his very being, to his very core. He had them buried though, had tried to forget, to move on...

Come on, who was he kidding ? As if he had one day managed to bury them for good... everything was crumbling down around him and he realised that his temporary solution might not have been the right one. He couldn't catch a damn break. Never. Marco breaking up with him, Sabo falling into a coma, Marco coming back, cold and righteous, Sabo's heartattack, Kid's disdain, the 16th. His disease. His coming death. His coming painful dismiss.

A numbness settled in his gut. He felt so out of his depth. How could he get up, buried as he was under his problems ? How did the world expect him to survive ? Maybe that was why he was sick ? Because he wasn't meant to bear the weight of his misery and because he couldn't be trusted to put himself out his misery. Fate had drawn his cards and decided to help him go. A kind gesture to lighten his burden, decrease his pain. But it hurt. So damn much. A constricting feeling, clutching his heart and his lungs, making him unable to breath. Everything was moving too fast, as soon as hope began to shine it was taken away. He couldn't take it anymore. Who could take all of this without breaking down ? He had tried. He had gone to talk to Dadan, he had tried to draw some support in his own clumsy way, he had tried not to care, tried to go on with his life, tried not to think about his future. But it was hard. People were moving on around him and he was stuck in the past, stuck by his mistakes, stuck because of his damn feelings. If only he couldn't feel anything. If only, for one moment, he could be numb, numb enough to stop the pain from overflowing his entire being. He would do anything for it to stop.

He felt like throwing up again. Marco, Sabo, Kid. Their names swirled in his mind, marred by guilt, by rancour, by hatred, by sorrow. He didn't know what hurt the most, it all blended together, leaving him cold and distressed. Marco had been his lover for so long, had been his source of comfort, his solace. They had been so strong together, had loved each other so passionately. And it had ended abruptly, in tears. Now that Marco was back, in the back of his mind, hope had rekindled.

Maybe they could talk it out, maybe Marco regretted what had happened, maybe he had broken up with his other lover, the one he left him for, and would take Ace back. But as soon as those thoughts ran through his mind, Ace felt sick, sick of himself. Marco had abandonned him and he wasn't a sad puppy under the rain, waiting for its master to come fetch him. He was his own man, he was enough. He didn't need Marco to be happy. And still, here he was...

Sabo had been his support throughout his life, the one that made him less bitter, that had helped him through school, that had been his shoulder to lean on. He had been a true brother in everything but blood and Ace was glad for that. Grateful even. But Fate had decided to take him away from him at a time when he needed him the most. When he would have needed a shoulder, when he had secrets that needed to be found out. Sabo had always been able to see through him, always confronting him head-on, calling him pig-headed most of the times. He knew how to handle someone like Ace. He had always known. Ace missed him so much, everyday.

As for Kid, he had been there when Sabo wasn't. He was his best friend, the one he drunk with, the one he confided in, the owner of the couch he ended up sobbing on. And now, he was neither of those things anymore. Kid loved him and Ace didn't... He wished he could. He wished he had moved on. Kid was a great man, a good friend, he would have been an incredible lover. But Ace didn't love him. Couldn't love anyone. Even if there wasn't Marco anymore, would he be able to trust someone ? He wasn't sure. But this option had been robbed out of him by his disease. Even if he could, it wouldn't do him any good. He would die on the person he came to love, if he ever could. It wasn't something he wished to anyone. He wasn't keeping people away to just hurt others.

Ace laughed bitterly and got up, making his way to the kitchen, all the while feeling like shards of glass were tearing his inside apart. He fixed himself something quick before making his way to the living room, hoping that the television would numb his mind, making him forget about everything. As he entered the corridor, he noticed that the door of his studio was open and went to close it, only noticing that he hadn't turned off the light. He entered his studio and now that he was here, decided to clean up a bit, picking up the discarded rumpled balls of paper he had thrown haphazardly earlier today. He bend down and put them in the trash, not bothering to look at them any longer. They were so horrible that he couldn't bear to look at them. Having put them in the trash, he gathered his brush, going to the kitchen to rinse them under the water. He put them back in a pot to dry, put the drawing paper in a nice pile, gathered them in his arms and put them in the closet.

His eyes suddenly caught sight of the drawings he had crammed on the top shelf. They had fallen on him, drowning him in forgotten pictures of his past a while ago. Just before he had learned of his coming death. It seemed like such a long time ago, not just three short months. He couldn't help but reach for them, his fingertips grazing the paper, mind going back to better times. He took the piles of old drawing and sat on the floor, not looking at them yet. He took a deep breath. He didn't know why he was doing that, why he was hurting himself like that. A bitter, rough laugh escaped him, or maybe it was more of a moan full of anguish. His grip tightened on the drawings, rumpling them a bit. It was a better time, a time when he didn't have anything to worry about, when he was happy. Today, he wasn't. Despite Luffy's love, despite not yet being dead, he wasn't happy. He felt hollow, hurt pulsing in his very being, relentlessly, filling him with anguish and pain to his very marrow.

He browsed through the drawings slowly, taking in the shape and faces of every people on them. His friends, his brothers, Marco. Especially him. Half-naked, looking his way lovingly. Ace's fingers traced the edge of Marco's smile, losing himself in his bottomless blue eyes. He got up suddenly, the drawings clutched in one hand, and opened a little wooden chest, tucked under the table. A bottle of whiskey lied under dish towels stained with paint. A forgotten one, that he had never gotten around to throw away before Luffy came back from his trip over the world. A bottle he knew lied there but had no intention of ever touching. He took it and opened it. He wanted to numb his mind, needed it, and maybe it wasn't the right choice, maybe it was even a really bad one but he didn't care, couldn't care right now. Too many things hurt and he needed them to stop. He took a huge gulp and the liquid burnt his throat, his stomach protesting. But it felt good. The burn made him feel alive, warmed his inside.

He leaned against a wall, drawings in his lap, bottle clutched in his hand. Sometimes Ace stumbled upon landscapes, devoided of any people, still they brought back vivid memories, times when his friends and family were gathered around him. Ace took another gulp, the liquid burning less than last time, as he went down memory lane. A smile stretched his lips as heavy tears roll down his cheeks. He sniffled and took another swig. Once again, a drawing of an half-naked Marco, eyes half-lidded in arousal. The bottle found his lips again. Why did Ace like drawing those kind of pictures ? Landscapes were fine too. This one was one of Luffy, a straw hat perched awkwardly on his head. He had gotten it in a fair, a few years back and it had been love at first sight. He had worn it all the time, even when he slept but Sabo and Ace had managed to convince him otherwise. Now, he only wore it all year, except in winter, because it was a bit too cold for his ears and he wore a red woolly hat. On the next one Sabo was next to him, an arm around his shoulder, a blue top hat on his own head. It was a time when Ace still knew how to draw. The next swig went easily down his throat.

Time flew by, the sun had set, minutes or hours ago, who knew ? Or who cared ? Ace got up, his legs feeling heavy as lead and his head spinning. He made his way out of his studio, leaving the drawings discarded on the floor, the almost empty bottle of alcohol loosely held in his hand. The room was spinning and the light was hurting his eyes. Squinting he made his painful way to his bedroom, stumbling at every step. It was hard, he didn't remember it to be so far away from his studio. He sighed, leaning against a wall to take a breather before rising the bottle to his lips. Upon lifting his arm, his grip loosened and the bottle came crashing down on the floor, smashing in splinters of glass. Ace blinked at the broken shards littering the floor, his brain having a hard time understanding what at happened. He finally bent down to pick the pieces of glass but his legs gave out from under him and he fell on his hands and knees, glass piercing his flesh, tainting the floor in red. He tried to get up but only managed to slip on the whiskey he had spilt on the floor, sprawling even further on the ground. Weariness filled him as a tired laugh escaped him. His limbs had abandonned him too. Was it the alcohol or his disease he didn't know and he couldn't be bothered to think about it. All he knew was that he was sprawled on the cold floor, exhausted, worn out, deeply wounded, broken.

His laugh turned hysterical as whiskey soaked his clothes, tears falling from his eyes. Shards embedded themselves deeper in his palms as he put his weight on them to get up but he didn't even feel it. He rose, his legs like jelly and made a detour by the bathroom, shedding his clothes haphazardly on the tiled floor before stepping inside the shower. The water was neither cold, neither warm, or at least he didn't feel it on his skin. It might have been freezing he wouldn't have noticed He didn't feel less dirty coming out of the shower. The smell of whiskey stuck on his body even as he towelled himself of painfully. He felt like his body wasn't his own anymore. He moved like a robot, mechanically. Had he turned the water of the shower off ? He didn't turn around to check.

On the far wall, the mirror reflected a face that wasn't his own anymore. Ace got closer, close enough to trace his own facial features on his reflection. He felt like breaking it to pieces but he couldn't muster enough strengh to clench his fist. Shaking with repressed laughter, Ace rose his arm to open the medicine cupboard above the sink. He rumaged through it before finally finding what he was searching for. He needed it. Only for tonight. Usually, he didn't take medicine but today, today he wanted to not think about anything, to slip into oblivion peacefully. He took the bottle of sleeping pills, looking at the tag. It was half faded or his vision was hazier than he thought. He wasn't able to read it and the room spinned more and more around him. Shrugging he opened it and let the pills fall into his palm. How many fell ? Two ? Five ? The room began to blur and Ace felt light headed. He should go lie down. He put the pills in his mouth and took a glass of water to swallow them. It was painful in the back of his throat but he forced himself to wash all the pills down with water. He would at least get a good night of sleep.

Feeling drowsy, Ace left the room, the bottle of sleeping pills still lying empty on the sink, the lights still on. Seeing his bed filled him with a feeling of peacefulness and he dropped on it, not even bothering to get inside the cover. He only pulled the bedspread on his naked form and sighed in contentment. If only God, or whatever was supposed to watch humans from above, would give him oblivion for tonight. Ace passed out, mind blissfully empty.

TBC

Notes:

Tags: Alcohol Consumption, Alcohol as a Coping mecanism, attempted suicide ( but not really planned by Ace), Depression, dark thoughts

Notes: I hope you liked this chapter, don't hesitate to share your thoughts with me about what is going to happen next, about Marco's behaviour or Kid's, about my evil evil cliffhanger, whatever crosses your mind !

See you next time and take care of yourselves !