"Marco-taichou…" Marco looked up to see some of his brothers shuffling their feet before him, looking worried and uncertain.
"What is it, yoi?" He asked, gesturing for them to sit down, though none of them moved to do so.
"What's going to happen to us now?"
"What do you mean, yoi?"
"Oyaji's dead, Thatch and Ace too, and the Moby Dick's gone. What will we do from here on? Are we going to continue sailing the seas? Or…is this the end for us?" They asked quietly, grimacing at the last question.
"Oyaji, Ace, and Thatch are dead, but we're still alive, yoi. We can always build a new ship and continue sailing the seas, yoi. I think the main question here is, do you still want to sail, yoi?" Marco asked, meeting their eyes. "You've seen it now, how brutal a war gets and how quickly things can go wrong, yoi. Do you think you can handle that, yoi? Are you still willing to live risking your lives like that, yoi? If you don't think you can or if you don't want to, you're free to leave, yoi. Oyaji wouldn't have stopped you, and I won't either, yoi." They glanced at each other unsurely.
"Sorry… I don't think we're ready for that." Marco closed his eyes.
"Very well, yoi. I'll conta-"
"Not right now, at least." His eyes snapped open in surprise as he looked to his brothers, who gave him unsure smiles.
"I mean, we're still pretty shaken and roughed up from the last war, so I don't think we're in any shape to fight right now. But in the end, I guess we still want to sail." One of them admitted.
"Yeah, and it's not like we have anywhere else to go anyway. This crew is our family and our home. And well, family should stick together, more so especially in trying times, right?" The other managed a shaky smirk.
"It's just…" The third one began. "Is it ok if we just…sit here a while?" Marco nodded, and the men relaxed, finally sitting down. It wasn't long before sobs and sniffles filled the air, and Marco said nothing as he looked up at the sky, knowing his brothers would rather not be seen crying.
Marco approached the man who sat quietly at the edge of the island, staring out at sea.
"I won't stop you guys if you want to leave the crew, yoi." He said quietly. "I know Ace was always the only Captain you guys have accepted, and you only joined us because you were all following your Captain, yoi. With Ace dead, there's nothing keeping you guys tied to the Whitebeard Pirates anymore, yoi. All I ask is that please, don't do anything reckless, yoi." Deuce remained silent for a while before speaking.
"You're wrong, Marco-taichou." Marco glanced to Deuce curiously. "There is still something tying us to the Whitebeard Pirates. It's the family who accepted our Captain and us along with him." Deuce gave him a small smile. "The Whitebeard Pirates is our family as much as Ace's. Ace loved this family, and we do too. We're going to stay with our family, and we'll grieve together with our family." Marco seemed surprised, but then his expression softened into a small smile.
"I see."
"And please, Marco-taichou. Take care of yourself too."
"…I will, yoi."
"From my experience with Ace, I don't believe you one bit." Marco could only laugh at that.
It's been about a week since they arrived on this island, and it was clear that this grief was going to take longer for his family to come to terms with. Marco looked around, doing a mental headcount. There were over 1,500 people on the crew, but Marco knows and remembers every single one of them and how they came to join the family. Currently, most of his brothers around him were crying, some were just wandering around, and there was a handful who were just gazing out to sea.
In the sea of crying brothers, Marco spotted Blenheim and Blamenco sitting with their divisions and crying alongside them. He saw Fossa, Atmos and Curiel the other day, each of them having stopped by for either a small meal or a short nap before wandering off again. Kingdew was just sitting by the fire, staring at it blankly as he often did, only wandering away for a few minutes at a time before returning to stare at the fire again. He could see Rakuyo sitting on the shore just a short distance away, muttering to himself or to his weapon, Macey, while Namur was still swimming laps around the island. Jiru had come back just yesterday to have a meal and get his wounds treated after wreaking havoc on the other side of the island. That's most of his brothers accounted for, Marco nodded to himself as he recalled every face he's seen in the past few days and tallied the numbers.
Standing up, he walked over to the fire and sat down next to Kingdew. Kingdew mourns silently, he noted as he started slowly roasting a piece of meat. Thatch wasn't around anymore to cook them delicious meals anymore, and the 4th Division were still struggling with the losses they've suffered, so this would just have to do for now. He couldn't cook any nutritious meals, but he could at least make sure his family doesn't go hungry.
"Can't believe Oyaji is dead." Kingdew began, staring blankly at the flickering flames of the fire. "Ace too, and Thatch as well. The Moby Dick's gone too."
"They're dead, yoi. And the Moby Dick's been destroyed, yoi." Marco replied back simply, busying himself with some vegetables at the side. "They're never coming back, yoi."
"Especially Oyaji." Kingdew continued as if he hadn't heard Marco. "He always seemed so immortal. Like a man who wouldn't die even when he's killed."
"He died standing, yoi. He remained strong even in his last moments, yoi. I'm proud to call him my Oyaji, yoi." He pretended not to hear the sniffle that escaped the normally stoic man beside him.
"...Me too. But even so, it's still hard to believe that they're gone for real."
So far, of all the Division Commanders, Marco hadn't seen Vista, Jozu, Haruta and Izo yet since they set foot on this island. He supposed it wasn't surprising. Jozu and Vista had been in the crew for as long as Thatch has, and Haruta was always playing pranks on the crew with Ace and Thatch. Izo had been quite close to Ace, the pair chatting often about the Wano Kingdom each remembers, and he'd been rather close to Thatch as well, bonding over their love for their unique hairstyles. No matter what pranks Thatch played, he never messed with Izo's hair, and no matter how angry Izo was at him, he never touched Thatch's hair.
The 4 of them had taken Thatch's death quite hard in the first place, and hadn't really had the time to grieve in the midst of worrying about Ace. And now, both Ace and Oyaji were dead, and their ship had burned down alongside all their belongings. Marco suppressed a sigh and looked away. It'll be okay, he bit his lips. They'll pull through. And he'll be here if they ever need him.
Izo approached the base camp with bags under his sunken eyes and messy hair, twigs and leaves sticking out of it. His makeup was smudged, and tear tracks were clear to see on his face. He stumbled lifelessly over to an open spot and sat down on the grass, not even bothering that his kimono would get dirtier than it already was.
"You look terrible, yoi. Haven't been sleeping or eating much, I presume, yoi?" Marco asked, looking up from the pot of soup he'd been stirring.
"Funny hearing that from you. You were always the one who sometimes doesn't eat or sleep for long periods of time." He nodded in agreement at Izo's words.
"Only because there's too much work to do and too little time to do it, yoi. Besides, starvation and sleep-depravation aren't a problem to me, yoi."
"No, I suppose not." Izo nodded, and then fell silent.
"Want some, yoi?" Marco asked, gesturing to the pot of soup simmering over the fire. Izo shook his head.
"Not hungry."
"Okay." He eyed the soup, thinking of all the times Thatch had complained about the Phoenix not eating his meals properly and having to practically drag him out to the mess hall just to get him to eat his damn meals.
"But I should probably eat something. If Thatch were here, he'd throw a fit." He sighed eventually. "Maybe just a small bowl will do."
"Okay." The samurai watched as Marco handed him the bowl of soup and then busied himself with gathering twigs and sticks to keep the fire burning. His gaze fell onto his reflection in the soup in his hands, no doubt with whatever meat and vegetables Marco could find thrown into it. Nothing close to the exquisite meals Thatch always prepared for them.
"...I miss Thatch."
"Me too, yoi."
"Well, it doesn't feel like it." The irritation hit him out of nowhere. "You're acting like all this is no big deal." He snapped at the Phoenix, who didn't pause in his task.
"He's gone, and we'll never get to eat any of his cooking ever again, yoi. There's nothing we can do to change that, yoi." He said impassively without even meeting Izo's eyes.
"Well, you could at least show some emotion about it! Thatch was our brother! And you're acting like he's just another stranger!" Izo stood up, dropping the bowl of soup in the process. His form was tense and rigid. He expected Marco to become angry, to shout and scream at him, to hit him or something. Instead, Marco merely looked at the spilled soup with a frown.
"You're right, Thatch would really throw a fit if he were here, yoi. He always did hate food being wasted, yoi." He just shrugged, then looked up at the samurai. "Oh well, want a replacement, yoi?"
"No." Izo spat out sourly as he stomped away.
"We were too weak." Vista said, leaning against a tree trunk as Marco threaded carefully around the mess of sleeping bags, checking on his sleeping brothers and tucking in those who moved too much in their sleep. Marco hadn't seen the swordsman since they came to the island 2 weeks ago, and just the day before, Vista finally appeared to check on the members of his division, some of whom were among those asleep currently.
"Yes, we were, yoi." Marco agreed, moving over to the brother who had somehow managed to roll onto 3 other brothers, who were now groaning in discomfort. Their groans quickly receded when Marco shifted the brother weighing them down away, and tucked him in.
"It all feels like one big mess now." Vista let out a heavy sigh as he turned his gaze to the sky. "Feels like we'll never recover from it."
"We'll pull through, yoi. We may have lost Oyaji, Ace and Thatch, but our family is still intact, yoi." Marco replied, completing his check and moving on to check on the fire, their only source of warmth.
"For now. Who knows how much longer we'll last, especially once we get back out there. We were powerless. We couldn't even protect our own father and two of our brothers." Vista scoffed, but Marco remained unbothered.
"We'll get stronger then, yoi. So that we will never again lose anyone else, yoi."
Being in pain from their loss and grief, feeling confused and directionless in the aftermath... Writing them like this saddens me... :'( Enjoy!