IMPORTANT WARNING: Graphic sexual content and imagery, graphic depiction of torture and rape outcome, near mental breakdown, actual mental breakdown, strong non-con situation near the very end.
On a lesser serious warning, a long ass conversation because i'm a shit writer.
You have been warned.
As it turns out, Marco had simply passed out, much to Ace's relief.
Ace sighed, squeezing water out of the damp towel he picked up from the commander's room, before using it to wipe down the rest of the mess on Marco's barely moving chest. Bringing the older back to his room had been quite the challenge, but Ace couldn't just leave him out cold in that storage on his own, and even after putting him back here, he couldn't just walk away. It's a good thing that the corridor that held the commanders' quarters had their own bathroom installed, so Ace would only risk running to either Commander Jozu, Thatch, Vista, Blamenco and Rakuyo, and there's hardly a stir from any of their quarters.
Once he was sure he did a decent job cleaning out the older man's torso, he moved his glance to the man's barely spread legs, where he knew there would a lot more to clean.
But should he?
The dark haired logia bit his lower lips, plunging one hand into the medium sized bucket he had brought along and lighting up his fire to boil the now lukewarm water. He already gone and decided to take the extra mile of cleaning Marco's body, he might as well clean the rest of him. With a glance to Marco's still form, Ace stifled a sigh, carrying the bucket with him and sat by the end of the bed, just right next to the commander's leg. He climbed up to get a better look and felt his breath caught in his throat just from a quick glance.
Marco's torso had been a mess, sure, but his bottom part was on a whole new level. The underside of his rear was covered in thick layers of partially dried cum, with some of the white substance still drooling out of his obscenely gaping anus, and it took Ace a while to notice that some of the different coloured blotches wasn't caused by the light, there really was signs of bleeding. Ace recalled the sight of the Phoenix zoan's fire appearing in the middle of penetration and found a semblance of relief in knowing that wherever the bleeding might've been, it should be closed by now.
But just because he was relieved about the lack of open wound doesn't mean Ace didn't still feel the thrill of unease coiling in his stomach. Even knowing he was hurt to the point of drawing blood, Marco had urged those men to continue on, practically begging them to ignore his injuries and even found release in the aggravation. Though he never really participating in one, Ace had heard of receiving sexual gratification from pain, but this… the way those men talked about Marco, how scared the one called Alty had been with what he had done made it sound like this was something else.
Glancing up, Ace noted that Marco hardly stirred during his ministration, his chest rising and lowering gently as if he was in a deep sleep and hair falling limply over his face, slightly damp from Ace's attempt to clean him before. Did he do this every night, whether it was with one person or several at the same time? Did he always send his partners away once they were done, like he had done the 2 times Ace had seen him? Does he cleaned himself after every nightly encounter? If he had passed out like today, did anyone ever find him and take care of him? Was this the first time he ever passed out after sex, probably from exhaustion? He couldn't imagine that… earlier had been all that easy to do.
The images from earlier started returning to his mind and caused a churning in his stomach. Ace wanted to slap himself, but he settled with busying his hands in squeezing the now much warmer water out of the cloth for another use.
He began wiping the stray spatter along those toned thighs, holding himself back from lingering and admiring the feel of strong muscles underneath his hand for far too long. Ace bit his lower lips, grimacing as he cleaned off every faded blood spatter as he narrowed down to the spot in between Marco's legs. The water inside of the bucket had turned into a milky translucent colour, but he didn't have much left to clean.
When his cloth-covered fingers brushed against the puckered, cum-stained hole, Ace felt his breath caught. He hated that even with all of his confusion and worry, there's still a flaring heat that blooms inside of his stomach the moment he pulled Marco's cheeks apart for an easier access and saw the entrance loosening so easily, widening even more.
He chalked it up to the fact that he had never been that close to anything so intimate before aside from his own, but even then, it was all for hygiene purpose, never with any sexual connotation on it. But many nights now, he had thought of Marco in no other context but sexual, and so close to having it too had it not been for his inexperience and hesitation that cost him the chance.
And yet, the same way flames of desire forcefully filled his mind, so does the cold touch of trepidation. It looked so.. fragile, damaged, used and abused.
His mind flashed to the conversation he overheard not an hour ago outside of the storage room, as well as Thatch's warning. Promiscuity is one thing, and Ace had learned with his old crew in the Spade Pirates just how normal it was in the life of a pirate who chases after the pleasures of freedom, but the way they put it made it sound like there was so much more to it. Sex, as he learned, should be fun, distracting, fulfilling for both - or any - party involved. Yet there was none of that in Alty's angered voice, in Manfred's strong rebuke, and he was not deaf to the sternness in Thatch's words.
And then there was Marco's last words. The words he uttered with so much pain in his voice right before he passed out.
I'm never going to be clean.
Taking a deep breath, Ace shook his head. He's not going to think about that now.
He reached over again, using the cloth to wipe away all of the stain when suddenly there was a lightning fast movement on the corner of his eyes and Ace felt blinding pain to his stomach.
Ace let out a startled yelp, one arm flying to his aching stomach and it took him a few seconds to notice that he was lying half on his back on the floor. Wincing, he opened his eyes, and the first sight that greeted him made Ace stop on his tracks.
On the bed, breathing heavily with the look of anger and pure terror in his eyes was Marco, eyes wide and crazed. His stance was an aggressive one, ready to attack, yet the way he curled his body into himself was defensive, like he was ready to bolt at any time for his own safety. The moment their eyes met, it all melted away the blond's body slowly loosening its guard yet though not completely. His body was shaking like a leaf, Ace also realized, and the way he called out, "Ace? Is.. that you?" spoke of uncertainty and fear.
What did he have to be afraid about?
Holding back another wince as he stood up, Ace nodded. Judging by Marco's position, the pain on Ace's abdomen must've been caused by Marco's kick. Even without transforming, the man could kick as hard as an angry bull, "Y-yeah. Sorry, i was just— did i startle you? I was just cleaning.. well, you,"
At that confirmation, the rest of Marco's stiffness seems to go away, and the blond took a quivering deep breath, "I thought," he breathed, and it almost sounded like a sob, "I felt… I thought it was…,"
Hesitant of this new development, Ace called out, "Marco?"
Marco faced him again, slowly calming down with every deep breath. He then began to look around, confusion settling in his gaze, as if he had only realized now where he was, "I'm back in my room," he muttered, a sentence that seems more like a question than a statement. Sky blue eyes found the bucket of water on the floor just by the bed, shifting towards the cloth in Ace's hold and once again to Ace himself, and finally, he let out a huff, sounding almost exasperated, "I knew i felt someone else outside of the storage room,"
Ace gulped. Busted, "You— You felt… You knew i was outside?"
"More like i knew you were following me since i came out of my room," the zoan quirked his brow, and a smile grew on his face when Ace felt his face turning red, "Now why would you do that, hmm?"
"I uh," of all the times his eloquence left him, Ace wished it wasn't right now. But after everything he had seen, everything he had heard, suddenly, his initial motive for following Marco has left him, "Uh, well…,"
Light chuckling made him stop, and Ace lifted his head to see Marco shifting his position, sitting down on the bed with one leg outstretched and the other folded in, "I get it," he said, his smile curling into something much more meaningful, eyes hooded and knowing, "Not satisfied with the other night, are you? I didn't think so, for a kid your age,"
He moved on all fours then, crawling until he reached the end of the bed before reaching out to where Ace stood with one hand, motioning for him to get closer. Which Ace followed, as if in trance, already hypnotized by the taut lines of Marco's body, and when he was close enough, he felt the hand that held the washing cloth being pulled, making him follow suit. Smirking, Marco grabbed the cloth in his hand and tossed it away carelessly, and wherever it fell, it made a wet squelching noise that barely broke the rising tension in the room.
Ace grew hot, and he's not just talking about his face.
"You're really good at flattering me," Marco chuckled, the sound resonating deep underneath Ace's skin. The blonde latched their hands together, pulling Ace even closer, and he rose up on his knees, just tall enough that they're both face to face, "To think that such a virile young one like you is so interested in chasing after this old man, well, i'll be extremely ungrateful if i didn't give you what you want, right?"
Ace's heart began to hammer in his chest, so hard that he's pretty sure Marco could hear it, "U-uh…,"
Unlike before, Ace's hesitation and speechlessness wasn't replied with hilarity, but if possible, Marco's smile widen, and he couldn't understand how that little of a change could look so erotic. The blonde leaned forward, putting them so close their breath mingled in the same space, and unconsciously, Ace felt his hand in Marco's hold being directed someplace else, until they were placed on top of heated, slightly damp skin. Daring himself to look away, Ace felt his eyes widening when he saw that his hand was on Marco's naked waist, and it trailed down to the man's upper thighs.
"Finally made up your mind on how you want me?" was whispered sensually to his ear, making the logia shudder, "Did what you saw earlier gives you inspiration? You could've joined them, i wouldn't have minded," A hand started snaking up Ace's shirt, brushing against his own naked skin and making him jump, "Or maybe you didn't want to share? That's fine, i can give all of my attention to you right now. Do you want me to suck you off again? Doesn't look like you need much more encouragement, but i don't mind,"
"W-wait,"
A kiss was placed on his jugular, and Ace couldn't help the little sigh that escaped him, "Hmm? How about it?" Marco asked again, and as he shifted again, Ace's hand on his hips strayed to his ass, grabbing the plump mound and making him mewl, "Aah, just straight to the point then? I'm okay with that too,"
The way the older man looked at him, like he was a prey made him gulp, "But, but you just… those guys, they…,"
"What about it?" Marco asked, brows raised, before his eyes lit up and his smile turned feral, "Oh, you mean how they were both inside of me? It's not the first time it happened. Was it your first time seeing something like that? Did you jerk off to it? Imagining yourself to be one of them? Or," he pressed another kiss on the side of Ace's neck, lips brushing against the logia's ear as he whispered, "Do you want to join in?"
The laugh that escaped the Marco was low, husky, and it did nothing to quell the thrumming in Ace's ear, "Oh, you'll wreck me. You're not so small yourself, Ace, you'll bring me to tears. But maybe you'll like that, ruining me, making me sob and beg because it hurts so much i don't think my Devil Fruit could even heal that, but you'll feel so good. They like that, you know, they like seeing me cry, seeing me break down over being stuffed, sometimes with their cocks, sometimes other things. I'll become a dirty mess, but it's okay, because i like it too,"
Ace pulled back, just enough that he could meet Marco's eyes, wanting him to slow down, to stop. This is starting to become uncomfortable, those words disturbed Ace more than it arouses him.
Only, something was different.
Marco's eyes weren't seductive, they were… they were manic, abnormal, there's no other way to describe them. It was wrong. His smile was crooked and tight, almost like he forced them to be there. And as he spoke, his voice was shaky, breathy and wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. Wrong.
It's like someone had doused him with cold water, and Ace felt his blood freezing within his veins, "Marco?"
But the zoan continued on as if he hadn't heard Ace speak at all, "Wouldn't you like that? The great Marco the Phoenix, made into nothing more than a whimpering mess like a common whore. Whitebeard's commander brought down into nothing but a cock-hungry slut, a shame to his father and nakama, just a toy to be used over and over, and he's not going to break, oh he won't break, but he'll always be dirty, used—"
"Marco, please, stop it! You're scaring me!"
Ace didn't mean to shout, he really didn't. But he couldn't hear a single more word, and he felt anxious and scared. Scared of that look on Marco's eyes and of his words, how he spoke them like he was under a spell, like none of the things he spewed was even his own words.
What is happening?
But in the second he shouted, it was like something had switched in Marco's brain. He stopped abruptly, eyes bugging out and his lips trembling, and Ace could feel his body starting to shake again the way they did when he first woke up, "Ace?" he gasped, and the way he looked at the younger was so foreign, like he couldn't recognize who Ace was or when he got here, even though they had been talking with each other for minutes now.
With a jerk, Marco pulled back, sitting back down on the bed, both of his arms gripping his sides tightly. He let out a shuddering breath, "Get out,"
For a second, Ace could only blink by this sudden turn of event. What… what had just happened? "But—"
"Please, Ace," Marco uttered again, the sob in voice unmistakable this time. The younger could feel his chest clenching at the sound, "Please, i need to be alone right now,"
As much as Ace wanted to argue - he didn't want to leave Marco alone, not when he looked like that - but something in the older man's tone stopped him from arguing. Without a word, he walked away to the door, hesitating and looking back before he twisted the door knob and opening the door, "Good night," he called out hollowly, and stepped outside.
The moment the door was closed again behind him, Ace's back hit the door and he slid down on the floor, knees weak and mind in turmoil.
But even through it, he knew he didn't miss the soft, heart wrenching sobs coming from inside of the bedroom.
Ace stayed in the dining room from the start of breakfast till the end of it, knowing he already missed that day's training. Not once he caught glimpse of Marco.
"Hey Thatch," he was answered by a distinct hum from the kitchen, just pass the counter he was leaning on. Once or twice, when Ace bothered to notice, he could see some 4th Division members eyeing him suspiciously, and those who carried ingredient for lunch even took a different route from where he was, as if afraid he might try and steal the food they carried. His appetite has grown some infamy in the kitchen after all, even though Ace never once purposefully stole food that's not offered before, "Can i ask you something?"
The commander looked up from the slice of meat fillet he was seasoning, his hands still expertly working even though he's not even looking at them anymore, "If this is about getting lunch early, as much as i like you Ace, i can't let the rest of the ship go hungry,"
"No," he only said plainly, and perhaps it was that lack of reaction on his part that made Thatch suddenly put his giant pepper grinder down, all attention now on him. When Thatch gestured for him to go on, Ace bit his lips, briefly checking his surrounding before he finally ask, "Did… did something happen to Marco a long time ago? Say, the last 15 years or so?"
Instantly, the curious expression on the chef's face grew dark, mouth pulled into a grimace as he shook his head, "Kid," he started tersely, before sighing, "Where did you even— I told you to leave it alone, didn't i?"
"No, you didn't,"
"No, i didn't," it sounded like a berating, but the way Thatch said it made it look like he was saying that to himself. And maybe he was, "Ace, there's things that you just didn't need to know or need to butt your big head in," this time, the scolding was definitely aimed at Ace, especially when the pompadoured chef looked at him so balefully, "And this? This is one of it. Stop asking, there, that's your warning, now don't say i didn't tell you to stay away again,"
"But Thatch—"
"What are you going to get out of knowing anyway?" Thatch suddenly lashed out and that caught Ace off guard. The months he had known the bubbly chef he had never even once raised his voice or had any other mood than jovial. But right now there was a sneer on his lips, and beyond the furious expression, he looked tortured, sorrowful. Taking a deep breath, he looked around to the rest of the kitchen, and if there had been anyone staring, they had all gone back to work.
Ace watched him took another deep breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was lowered, just barely his usual volume, "It was a fucked up story," he gritted out, "It was a fucked up situation that we could've stopped if we had been quicker but we weren't. And Marco had to pay the price to this day, and there was nothing we could do to help," The way he started working on his pepper grinder shows that the older man's mood had plummeted, as if he's channeling his emotion into his work, "What's the point of bringing up old wounds again?"
And that was that.
Ace nodded mechanically. Seconds later, he glanced up again, "Thatch?"
"What now?"
"Can i get some food?"
The chef raised a brow, "Ace, you already ate less than an hour ago. All 130 plates worth,"
"I know," the logia nodded, "It's not for me,"
The first series of knocks bore no result, but somehow Ace wasn't surprised. The second time he knocked, he quietly announced, "It's me. I…i brought food," hoping maybe it'll help him gain entrance. The third time he knocks remains the same, and after the fourth, Ace decided to sit down in front of the door, legs pulled to his chest and cooling plate of food on his side, "You should at least eat, you know," he tried to call out, "It's almost noon,"
With a sigh, he thumped his head back on the wooden material, "I know you're in there too. I haven't seen you anywhere on the ship,"
Still no response.
Ace slumped backwards even further.
He almost dozed off, the gentle sway of Moby's smooth sailing as well as the breeze that got into this section of the ship lulling him slowly and surely, when suddenly the door was pulled open none too gently, almost sending him falling and scrambling for hold. Ace turned around, and found himself staring up to Marco, his usual attire ruffled and hair mussed up, as if he had only just woken up.
For a moment, no one spoke.
"You're a persistent little thing, aren't you?" Marco greeted him flatly, voice hoarse but at least a lot firmer than the last time Ace saw him. He looked worn out and gaunt, and the way he looked at Ace was full of exasperation.
The logia wasn't deterred. He picked up the plate of food that he brought and stood up, offering it as though it wasn't clear why he was here in the first place.
Marco moved his gaze from Ace and to the plate, "I'm not hungry,"
"Well, you still have to eat,"
"Dinner,"
"Fine, then i'll wait here until then,"
The blond narrowed his eyes, obviously displeased by his insistence. Ace thrust the plate of food again in front of Marco, "Just finish half of it," he grounded, "Then i promise i'll leave you alone,"
Wordlessly, Marco glanced back down to the plate of food, and with a despondent sigh, he pushed the door wider, allowing Ace entrance. The dark haired male quickly entered, before the room's owner changed his mind.
Nothing has changed inside of the room since last night, so much that the bucket of water Ace left was still by the foot of Marco's bed. The bed itself was unmade, with the sheets disturbed, like someone had tossed and turned restlessly. Marco's clothes from last night, one that Ace had brought along when he carried the older back here was still in the same corner where he left them. Ace wondered if Marco had even left the bed since this morning, but based on his appearance, he probably didn't.
He walked over to set the plate on the work desk before moving away to lean on the side of the table, allowing Marco space to eat. Ace could hear the older man sigh again before he sat down, but instead of eating, he looked up to where Ace stood, eyes narrowed, "You aren't going to stand there and wait until i started eating, are you?"
Ace didn't reply. He simply crossed his arms, showing his resolve to wait.
And it worked. Marco picked up the spoon on the side of the plate, his hold limp but at least he's picking it up, and after a while, he began eating. Each portion didn't even reach half the spoon's size, and the food was hardly chewed and tasted before it was swallowed. Ace leaned his back against the wall, eyes scanning Marco's form. The zoan user seems paler than he was the night before, and his eyes were bloodshot and puffy. He looked like the very definition of exhaustion, though he would guess not all of it came from physical exertion.
There's barely any dent on the plate when Marco placed his spoon down, and pushed the plate away, "I'm full,"
"No,"
"Ace—"
"You need to eat more than that. Half a plate, you promised,"
The gaze that Marco gave him was full of irate and fatigued, like he wished Ace was anywhere but in his room, "I don't need any of this, Ace,"
"You do,"
Marco turned his body to fully face Ace, scornfully saying, "You don't know what i needed," he gritted out, almost to the brink of showing a semblance of emotion since he opened his door to Ace, but he quickly regain that composure and spoke again, the disdain in his voice still present, "If this is still about the sex, there is no need for all of this. I'll let you fuck me right now—"
"I don't want to have sex with you!" Ace yelled, causing Marco to falter in his seat, shocked. As if that was such a foreign concept to him.
Then, a sardonic, bitter smile appeared on his lips, "Could've fooled me,"
And this time, it was Ace's return to be silenced, "Fine, so i did," he admitted, because what's the point of hiding it anymore. Marco knew he wanted him, and yet, "But that's not the only thing that matters to me,"
The look on Marco's face told Ace that he wasn't impressed by his answer. His reply reflected that even further with a biting tone, "As if there is anything else that mattered when it comes to me,"
Looking back, Ace didn't really know what pushed him to do it. Perhaps it was that he took Marco's words as a challenge, filling him with the need to prove the man wrong, or perhaps it was because just because he had been a hormonal young adult filled with both lust and uncontrollable emotion. It hardly mattered in the grand scheme of things as to what exactly moved him in the first place, because in the end, he still surged forward to grab hold of Marco's shoulders, and as a startled gasp that escaped the blond, he pressed their lips together.
Marco's lips was smooth, which was surprising until one remembered his Devil Fruit ability, and the insides of his mouth tasted strongly of the food Ace had brought for him. They were soft against Ace's own, warm, and unresponsive.
Completely unresponsive.
It didn't last for more than a couple of seconds, and a couple of seconds was enough for Ace to realize his own mistake when he felt the body underneath his hands trembling. He pulled back to see Marco staring at him with such an unreadable expression that it instantly caused any semblance of bravado leaving Ace.
Marco took a shaky breath, yet even through it, the contempt in his voice was clear as day, "Get out,"
Ace pulled his hands back as if he had been burned by something even hotter than his fire, "Marco, i… i was—"
"Get out!" the blond practically shrieked, causing Ace to instantly take several steps away, "Get out! Leave me alone!"
Without another word, Ace raced outside of the door. The very second he closed it behind him, he could hear something breaking right behind him and knew it had been aimed at him.
"Well, this is unusual,"
Blearily, Ace lifted his head from between his knees to the source of the voice, to find Thatch looming over him. The chef had an amicable, if rather curious expression on his face, and more importantly, a tray with a plate of food balanced in his other hand, "Dinner's almost over and Portgas D. 'Bottomless Pit' Ace isn't in the midst of the hungry crowd. No one in this ship ever goes hungry yet i have never seen an entire room full of grown men so glad they don't have to fear for their food portion ever in my life,"
Though Ace hardly gave a reaction, Thatch chuckled and took a seat right next to him. The logia didn't really know how he could be found when he deliberately hid himself away in the most secluded corner on the deck, but then again, he had always hid here during his brief streak to claim Pops' head. No one has ever approached him though, so he assumed that none was the wiser about where he would spend his time while planning their captain's assassination. Seems like he was wrong.
"Not as much as you're used to, but it's better than none. You want more, go to the kitchen yourself, we got plenty," he heard said next to him as a plate of boiled rice and curry was set in front of him, strong smell of spices immediately assaulting his sense. Usually, just at the mere sight of it would've automatically made him hungry, but right now, Ace barely cared. Seems rather ironic, considering his demands to Marco earlier.
When he doesn't take the plate immediately, he felt Thatch poking his side playfully. The rookie Whitebeard crew member turned his gaze to meet his superior's, whose grin disappeared the moment he saw the look on his face, "Hey, everything alright?"
Ace pursed his lips, and sniffed, "You can have his body but not his heart," he repeated resentfully, "I think i'm starting to understand what that rule really means,"
Unlike this morning, Thatch didn't blow up or berated him for bringing up the topic again. Instead, the chef sighed despondently, almost sympathetic, as he leaned back to the railings, "I told you not to get involved," It wasn't accusatory, at least, the way Thatch said it doesn't sound like he is even chastising Ace, "Marco's situation is… delicate, to say the least. Many thought they'll be able to handle it, some even thinking they'll be able to fix it," he sighed, and snorted weakly, "Not going to lie, i was one of the latter once upon a time,"
"I just wanted to understand," Ace finally said after a while, morose, "Cause i wasn't lying when i told him it really wasn't just about the sex for me,"
Silence descended between them. It was shattered by a clanking noise of the metal tray in Thatch's hold being put away on the floor, before the pompadoured chef fished into his pocket, rummaging around until he pulled out a box of half-empty cigarettes. He picked out one of the white sticks out, holding it in between his fingers before putting it right in front of Ace, "My lighter's out of fluid a couple of days ago and i haven't been able to find a replacement," he explained, wiggling one end of the cigarette, "If you light this up for me, i promise i'll stay and talk,"
One of Ace's finger produced a small ball of flame, which he held right underneath the tobacco rod, "I thought you said you're quitting?"
Thatch mumbled his gratitude once the cigarette was lit, placing it on his lips and taking in a deep breath before exhaling a puff of white smoke, "I started smoking to cope with stress. If i'm going to smoke again after promising to quit, then there's no better reason to do it then for talking about the thing that made me smoke in the first place,"
That already set a precedent on what was about to follow. As Thatch further slumped against the rails, Ace noticed the forlorn look on his eyes, that even as he gaze up to the starry skies, he was looking beyond that, to a time and place unreachable from here. Unconsciously, Ace moved closer.
"It was raining that day," The chef began, voice distant, "On the 6th day of the 7th month that Marco had been missing,"
He took another deep inhale from the smoke. It doesn't smell as strongly as any other cigarette Ace had ever encountered, and he remembered that Thatch was trying to quit and had mentioned that the one he's carrying around was one with less nicotine in them. Judging by the brief frown he gave to it, seems like he's wishing for something stronger, "You know, over the years, there's been a lot of pirates wanting to defeat Pops. Well, you'd know that," he glanced at Ace, a faint smile on his lips that immediately faded, "But unlike you, some of them had been the lowest of low, just a bunch of psychopaths who became pirates to wreck havoc because they could,"
It's not a concept Ace was unfamiliar with, he even had some run ins with those sorts before as the captain of Spade Pirates, "What happened?"
"There was this one crew that was really hellbent on taking down Pops. They targeted islands under our protection to provoke us," the pompadoured man shook his head, "They destroyed villages and islands, killed and tortured men, women, children and elderly without any consideration. And they deliberately chose the perfect timing to do it. This particular crew wasn't very big, and knowing that they'd lose on number alone, they'd attack whenever we were on our most vulnerable, possibly hoping to take us on little by little,"
A flick of ask fell to the ground, flickering briefly before dying. More of them fell the more Thatch gritted his teeth, grounding the cigarette filter in his mouth, "We were in hot waters with the marines - so much that my bounty jumped 390,000,000 belli in one day, can you believe it? - and on our other side, we managed to pissed off Kaido for messing with his territory. We were stretched thin as it is in order to protect ourselves, we can't afford to lose manpower to deal with another nuisance but Pops won't abandon the people he promised to protect,"
More ashes fell. There's a tear on the side of the cigar now, where Thatch had accidentally bit too hard, "That's when Marco, diplomatic, responsible, loyal and yet young with something to prove Marco came up with the idea of taking care of it by himself,"
With a shuddering breath, Thatch paused, taking the cigarette out of his mouth to flick away the burnt end. After a while, he caught sight of the tear and with a click of his tongue, snuff it out and reached into his pocket. But as he pulled out the same box as the one he had before, instead of pulling out a stick from it, he tossed it backwards, making the cigarette box fly off from the side of Moby and to the waters below. Ace's eyes followed the trajectory, and when he looked back, Thatch had another box out, this time a proper cigarette, the one he said he's quitting from.
"Thatch…,"
"Well, this is 30 days of cold turkey out of the goddamn window," he chuckled grimly, pulling one of the cigarettes out of the box and once again offering it to Ace. The fire logia hesitated briefly, but lit it up in the end. Thatch inhaled, eyes closed and looking to all as if he's savoring it, but to Ace, he only looked tortured and pained, "Hey," he said after another foggy exhale, "You listen to me carefully Ace. I'm telling you this because… fuck, i don't know, because you sound like you actually cared. And Marco needed someone who does, he always did,"
Ace had never seen Thatch like this. Gone was the cheery chef image, this man right now is haunted by what he was about to tell, the desperation in his voice so palpable, "You obviously cared too,"
A thin smile bloomed on the older man's face, but it was bitter, "But that doesn't mean i could help him. For 15 years, my guilt was stronger than my loyalty to my brother. And this isn't just me. Everyone," he gazed on to the depth of Moby, "Everyone who was there that day was in the same boat. And we all hated ourselves for that, for not being there when he needed us the most… and for leaving him forever out of our reach,"
He blew another puff of smoke, sighing, "After the matters with the marines and Kaido had passed, we still didn't hear a single news from Marco. We raced towards the island where he was supposed to be, but all we found was a charred remain of civilization. There wasn't a single clue as to where he was. He, along with the pirates, was just gone," the pompadoured commander placed the cigaretts back in between his lips, "We searched for him all over the 4 seas, any clue we can get on those goddamn pirates. Nothing was more important than finding Marco. Pops wouldn't rest for weeks, we were all gripped by fear for his life, and by the end of the 6th month, just fear for never knowing Marco's fate,"
Even knowing that 15 years later, Marco is still alive, there is still a cold, curling sense of unsettledness in the pit of Ace's stomach. He hated to think what the crew from then had to deal with during those long months, "What then?"
"One of our allies were attacked by those same pirates. Out of 300 people only one survived, and somehow this person knew of their hideout, said he overheard their conversation before he escaped,"
Thatch took another long drag, eyes fluttering close as he tilted his head skyward and blew the smoke. He leaned his head back on the rails, scoffing, "From every angle possible, it sounded like a trap. But we couldn't care less. We just wanted Marco back, and at that point, any news is good news,"
When he opened his eyes again, they were back to being distant, "The hideout was an island, somewhere in the far coasts in Paradise. When we arrived there, the first thing that greeted us was an ambush, and after we slaughtered them, there were bodies everywhere," he paused, swallowing, "They were all in different states of decay, from different ages, placed along the road like a macabre pathway that leads us to them. Maybe it was meant to unnerve us. Maybe they're just that sick in the head,"
Ace curled into himself, the horrors of that sight he could only imagine just from Thatch's disgusted grimace.
"We all took a different path, division by division, Marco's own thirsty for vengeance for their commander. Pops led that attack like an angry storm, crushing everything in sight, bellowing 'where is my son' over and over. I think out of all of us, Marco's disappearance had hit him the hardest. He always took everything that happened to his sons the hardest out of all of us,"
The chef gave a chuckle, voice cracking in the middle.
"That's why, Pops was the first one to find Marco,"
The cigarette trembled as Thatch's lips did before he took it away, and he tilted his head backwards even more as his eyes began to shine wetly. The veins on his neck and jaw contracted, stiffening, "They put him in the middle of the plaza, in the centre of that ghost town, for us to find. Tied and naked, lying in the pool of his own blood. There were injuries everywhere, cuts, burns, lesion, his legs, his weapon, they were crushed, making sure he won't fight back. And with a seastone collar on his neck, they made sure he's not going to heal from that,"
Breathing heavily, Ace closed his own eyes, as if he could see the sight of it clearly and had to avert his gaze.
"But that's not all, oh no, no, that's not even close to what those sick bastards had done to him in those 7 fucking months," Thatch hissed angrily, and in the dim lighting in that corner, Ace finally caught sight of the first tear that fell, one that he didn't manage to hold back, "They tore him apart… down there. They…they raped him until he was mangled inside and out. The moment i unlocked the seastone collar, those wounds disappear, even to the deepest ones. And Marco… Marco was awake the entire time,"
Thatch wiped his face angrily, eyes red and he's no longer holding back his stream of tears, "He was still whispering with this broken little voice. Please, stop this, no more. He wouldn't react even as i called his name, after i told him everything was fine. He only stopped… he only stopped after we brought him back and the nurses puts him to sleep. Still, at night he would wake up screaming, he'll beg over and over again 'please, stop this, no more' to thin air, seeing something only he could," he glanced towards Ace, whose stomach now felt like it was twisted in dozen different way, "Do you know the worst part of that kind of pain is for someone like Marco?"
Ace couldn't make a proper response, not when his tongue felt like lead inside of his mouth, but evidently, Thatch wasn't looking for an answer, "His scars, even to the worst of his injuries disappeared the moment i unlocked his seastone collar. But nothing could erase the trauma he endured. It stays with him, inside of him, haunting him, and many times i saw him look down to himself and saw something that wasn't there, just a cycle of never ending nightmare,"
The chef shook his head, "For 7 months, he was stripped out of everything; his power, his freedom, his dignity, his sense of control, his humanity. And for the next 15 years, he will do anything to get them back,"
It was truly pathetic. He asked for this, he wanted to know, and he thought himself ready.
But as Ace quickly scrambled to the rails, puking out the bile that kept rising in his throat, he felt pathetic. Why is he the one crying? Why is he the one vomiting his guts out? He wasn't even there, he didn't even see what Thatch, Pops and everyone else had seen of Marco. And yet he still felt sick, he still felt like screaming.
—The great Marco the Phoenix, made into nothing more than a whimpering mess like a common whore. Whitebeard's commander brought down into nothing but a cock-hungry slut, a shame to his father and nakama, just a toy to be used over and over, and he's not going to break, oh he won't break, but he'll always be dirty, used—
Even as he berated himself in his mind, he can't stop choking, he can't stop the hot tears that fell from his eyes.
A weak chuckle sounded underneath the dreadful sound of his whimper and heaving, "Let it all out, kid. I did that too, first time i saw him from right behind Pops," Thatch told him in consolation, "Just remembering it right now made me sick to my core,"
"Why did he—" a cough escaped Ace, and it tasted foul and rancid on his tongue, "Is that why he—"
He couldn't even bring himself to say it.
Thatch was quiet, the cigarette between his finger slowly burning, "He came after the commanders first. We're some of the people he knows best, the ones he trusted the most, and i think that was why we were his first choice. It didn't feel right, not after knowing what had been done to him, but he wouldn't relent. He needed it, he'll say, he wants that aspect of his life back, so," he swallowed, "So we agreed,"
Weakly, Ace leaned towards the rails, and when Thatch looked up again, he could see the bitter grimace on his lips, "Out of everyone he came to, i stayed the longest. I knew, from the very first night we spent together that he had lied to everyone. The words he said, the things he asked me to do— Fuck, just the way he looked, that wasn't Marco with me those nights, it was a… a phantom wearing his face. And yet i stayed, i did everything he wanted me to do because i hoped that one day, i'll bring him back for real. I just have to show him how it was again, just like he needed to adjust to normal life,"
A hissing sob, full of anger and self-hatred escaped the older man, "But the more i tried, the more he pushed me away. Everyone else stopped because they couldn't take it anymore, they couldn't bear seeing him, their brother like that, but me? I stopped because Marco wouldn't let me continue," he gasped wetly, voice unstable, "I pushed too hard, i know i did. But i just… i just want things to go back to the way it used to be,"
He gaze up to Ace, lips pressed thin, "You can have his body but not his heart. I was the first one who broke that rule, you know? It became more than just sex for me, and i made it personal. I failed to save him once, and now i wanted to save him from this, from himself. I couldn't. I couldn't and it destroyed me to this day," he shook his head mechanically, the smile on his lips bitter.
Ace's breath stuttered. His chest and stomach hurts now, and his eyes were beginning to sting, even though he didn't have any tears to shed.
"After us, it was strangers from just any port. Marco will disappear for days, and when he came back he'd look miserable, and i always suspected that the only reason he always came back uninjured was because of his Devil Fruit. We had to stop him after Jozu followed him once to make sure he was fine, only to find the stranger for that night had slipped something in his drink," Thatch huffed, nose stuffed and sniffling, "Like me, Jozu broke the rule after he decided to take on Marco himself. That man's body is made out of diamond, but his heart isn't that strong,"
Thatch brought the burning tobacco stick back to his mouth and took a deep and long drag. He turned again to Ace, a little, solemn smile on his face, "Many others have tried, you know. Some out of love, others.. others because they fell in love with him," the pompadoured man chuckled, hollow and painful, "Do you know how disgustingly easy it was to fall in love for someone so broken, and to fall out of it once you realized you weren't strong enough to handle just how truly broken he was? I know. And i never forgave myself once for it,"
"Then that's not love," Ace found himself replying, and whatever the reason Thatch had to say it, it made something in Ace's stomach burn. It felt like an accusation, a rebuke for something that he didn't do, "That's not what… That's not why i…,"
In the face of his disjointed reply, Thatch only smiled. It was still sad, but it was also a touch fond, aimed at Ace, "No it wasn't. It was our ego, and for me, it was my guilt and the need to be responsible of that guilt," he took another drag of his cigarette, and breathed out a long train of white fog. It danced briefly in the air before they dissipated away, "But Marco didn't need a knight in shining armour. It's far too late for that,"
With one last drag, the cigarette was dropped on to the floor. It rolled innocently along the wooden planks, before Thatch's shoe came upon it, snuffing it out.
"I think he just needs someone to be there to take the pain away,"
Three times Ace had arrived in front of the door that separated the hall from Marco's quarter, and in all those 3 times, his motivation to be there seems to keep on changing. And yet, there was a sense of trepidation every time he stared into his own shadow on the wooden surface, bracing and mentally preparing himself to knock. The first two times he came here and had the door opened for him, whatever his intention was coming in, it never seemed to go the way he wanted it to be.
This third time he hoped it would be different.
With a deep breath, Ace huffed, willing all of his nervousness to leave him in that single exhale, and raised his hand to knock.
But before he could, he could hear something from the inside, a muffled crash and a loud thump.
The sound was enough to ring every alarm bell in Ace's brain, and without thinking, he slammed the door open, "Marco?!'
The first sight that greeted him, the source of the noise was from the bed, where Ace saw the man he recognized from the first night he caught sight of Marco's nightly dalliance, his massive bulk looming almost possessively over Marco, who he had pinned against the headboard.
Marco, whose eyes were blown wide, holding a frozen expression of terror, tear marks, old and new, still staining the side of his face. His lips were moving, faintly and rapidly, but there were no words coming out of him.
The zoan had his legs kicking, yet they only burst into flames before disappearing again in a wisp, as if he couldn't control his power properly. Even with all of his struggle, the crew mate proved to be stronger, and it didn't help that he pressed his entire weight on to Marco, effectively trapping him.
A rough grunt escaped the unknown crew member before he dipped his head low, "You better stop rejecting me, Marco," he hissed out the commander's name lasciviously, and the sound of his voice send a shiver down Ace's spine. An unpleasant shiver, "If you just accepted my feelings the first time, then i wouldn't have to do this, but you liked it, didn't you?" There was a disgusting, ugly grin on the man's face, and he leaned down, until there was barely any space between his and Marco's "You liked it so much you have to open your legs for just about anyone in the whole goddamn ship, but not anymore,"
He lowered his head down to catch the commander's quivering lips in a slobbery kiss, the sound reverberated through the walls.
Ace's vision turned red, and throughout his body, his fire burned as hotly as his anger.
In a single leap, he pounced on to the bed, flaming fist striking the crew member head first. There was a crack underneath his knuckle, but it didn't deter him the slightest from using both hands to gripping the screaming man's head and slamming it to the nearest surface he could find - the wall. Ace roared, teeth gnashing every time he gathered the stamina to ram skull against wood, ignoring both the cracking noise of wood giving out under his violent ministration and that the man has stopped screaming in a while.
He only stopped, in fact, when the hard skull in his hand had become mush and brittle from his fire, the moment he heard a soft, choked sound coming from his side.
Like doused with sea water, every lick of flame on Ace's skin dissipated into smoke. He snapped his head to the side, all thoughts flying out of his mind except for Marco.
Marco, who has curled into himself, bloodshot and tear stricken eyes hollow and his lips, pale blue and glistening with saliva uttering quietly over and over what Ace hadn't been able to hear, but now that he could sent devastation to the pit of his stomach with every whispered word, repeated over and over, "Please, stop this, no more,"
Thatch's story came back into Ace's mind with the crashing intensity of a storm, "Marco!" the logia cried out, throwing the hefty bulk in his hold away as he swiftly turned and cradled the older man's half naked body, staining fair skin and golden tresses with the blood that had stained his own hands, "He's gone, he's gone, Marco, he's gone! You're save now!"
But the blond hardly reacted. His eyes remained vacant as he continues to pitifully murmur, "Please, stop this, no more,"
"What's going on?! What happened—" A loud bang from the direction of the entrance alerted Ace of newcomers, and he looked up to find Commanders Jozu and Vista storming through the door, followed by several other crew member behind them. Jozu came in first, and his stern appearance faded the moment he caught Ace's eyes, as well as the state of the room. His thin lips parted, eyes widening as they finally fell on to Marco's figure and though faint, the soft gasp he drew echoed in the silence.
"Alert Pops at once," he commanded tersely, "And call the nurses. We have an emergency in our hand,"
Yeah i gotta extend this thing because this supposed to be short fic suddenly became a giant. 2 chapters my ass, right?
Why did i do this to myself. I would like to apologize like, in general.
