Chapter 2

A little more than a week later, Ace was up and walking around. Sabo had lectured him at first, citing possible spinal damage, but after the third time catching Ace walking around (using the wall as a brace), he gave up.

Ace had immediately insisted on finding some way to pay Sabo back. Sabo had told him it wasn't necessary, but Ace hadn't taken no for an answer, and whenever Sabo wasn't at his apartment - which was more often than not, as whatever his job was required fair portions of his time - Ace tidied up the place, cleaning dishes and, when he felt up to it, preparing a meal for Sabo to have when he got home.

Oftentimes, Ace was asleep when Sabo got home, but he knew the blond-haired man appreciated his cooking. Ace wasn't the best cook around, though his warm meals and effort made it worth it. Plus, he was getting better each day, exploring new recipes and new facets of Sabo's kitchen, and the shaking in his hands had gradually eased with each passing day until it became unnoticeable. His stutter had also faded with time as Ace's brain finally synced up to his mouth.

Sabo was currently away, off doing whatever he always did. Ace never bothered to ask what exactly the man did for a living, figuring that it was rude and not his place. While he was gone, Ace was cleaning up the kitchen, since he'd been putting off dishes for the past two days, and even with only two people eating they had begun piling up.

He finished the last of the bowls, expertly kicking the dishwasher shut and starting the run cycle. Letting out a deep breath, he leaned his back against the counter while he dried his hands on a towel, trying to ignore how his legs and arms ached. Even after more than a week of getting up and moving - over two weeks since he'd woken up - Ace's body wasn't moving the way he wanted it to, and it felt so incredibly weak.

He'd have to work on that.

Eyes roaming the far wall, Ace frowned. He stared at a particular section of the wall, seeing that it was a slightly different shade of paint than the rest of the kitchen. Had Ace not spent so much time in the room over the past few days, he may not have noticed the subtle difference in color.

Setting down the cloth, Ace walked over to the patch of strange paint, running his hands over the surface. It certainly felt normal. Maybe they'd just run out of the original paint and gone for the next best thing.

But Ace was curious and bored, and that combination was not one that could be so easily dismissed. He gently rapped his knuckles against the wall, perking up when he heard it echo slightly. Checking the nearby walls, Ace concluded that only that section was hollow.

Why was it hollow? He ran his hands along the edges of the discolored section, feeling for anything that seemed out of place. Soon, his fingernails caught on a hair-thin seam mostly covered by paint. Grinning in triumph, Ace worked his nails under the seam and pulled as best he could.

Nothing happened. Smile fading, Ace tried again, only to meet the same result. Frowning, he came to the conclusion that he was missing something.

Stepping back from the wall, Ace tried to think. The wall he was looking at also functioned as the back wall of Sabo's room if his memory of the layout of this place was correct. Deciding to see if there was anything going on in Sabo's room, Ace slowly walked down the short hallway, rounding a corner and then turning into Sabo's room. He didn't turn on the light - sunlight filtered through the window, illuminating the room well enough - and stepped over to the far wall, eyes roving the surface to see if there was anything wrong or different about it.

Again, he found nothing.

Was that kitchen wall just weird? Feeling a little silly, Ace began to leave Sabo's room, only to freeze in the doorway. A niggling sense that something wasn't adding up up tugged at him, pulling him back down the short hallway to the kitchen. He then walked back, counting his steps. Ace repeated the process twice more to make sure, and then went to Sabo's room, counting his steps from the doorway to the far wall.

Eyes widening, he realized that, even when he accounted for error, there were at least two and a half yards missing from Sabo's room. No wonder the space felt slightly cramped, even given that Sabo's apartment was luxuriously spacious.

(Ace had found himself wondering many times how rich Sabo could possibly be. He didn't want to say anything, but the man's wealth brought up something dark and resentful within Ace no matter how many times Sabo proved he was way above a decent human being.)

Now that he had a mystery within his grasp, Ace abandoned any trace of guilt over trespassing and meticulously examined Sabo's room. He checked behind the bookcases, shelves, and bed. He looked within the closets, through the dresser, and under the lamp. He found nothing, but then he looked at the full-length mirror decorating one wall. While Sabo certainly wore elaborate enough outfits to justify such a mirror, Ace didn't think the gaudy frame really fit his style.

Grinning, Ace strode over to the mirror, feeling around it until his fingers brushed against a latch. Turning it, Ace pulled the mirror away from the wall. It swung on silent hinges and Ace raised an eyebrow at the small passage it had hidden behind it. Ace flipped a switch and a light flickered on from above, suspended between the interior of the walls. The space was narrow, to the point that Ace could barely squeeze his shoulders though, and therefore he settled on turning slightly to fit. It was a short walk to the turn, and when Ace got there, the space widened considerably, and he knew that he was between the kitchen and Sabo's room.

He couldn't stop himself from whistling at the sight that met his eyes.

Before him stood an impressive arrangement of weapons, varying from combat knives to swords to guns to pipes, each one gleaming and clearly kept in perfect condition. Even in the dim light Ace could see the pipes shining, and after giving the blades and guns a cursory glance he walked over to the pipes, curiosity forcing him over to the weapons that didn't really seem to fit with the rest.

On the way he noticed a section set farther back than the rest, boarded over with thin plywood. No doubt that had been the section Ace had seen in the kitchen.

He lifted a hand, fingers hovering an inch from the nearest pipe. It was practically a staff, nearly as tall as Ace was and polished to perfection.

Ace dropped his hand and perused the rest of the pipes, eyes skipping over the ones that didn't seem quite right, until he got to a point where a pipe made him actually want to step back. Frowning, the young man lightly tapped the pipe and immediately recoiled, nearly stumbling as his whole body seemed to collapse in on itself for a moment.

"What the hell?" He gasped as his strength slowly returned. Still, the shock had snapped him out of his curiosity and he looked around, seeing clearly for the first time that his roommate had an entire arsenal hidden in his apartment. Ace wasn't sure what to make of the situation - Sabo seemed nice, and he'd saved Ace's life - but the black-haired man didn't find the weapons surrounding him to be comforting.

He swallowed. He shouldn't have investigated that part in the kitchen; this was Sabo's space, and Ace probably would've been better off without knowing about it. Plus, Sabo had taken Ace in, and Ace was repaying that service by snooping around Sabo's apartment.

Ace looked around one last time at the room, committing as much of it to memory as he could before he took his leave, carefully checking that everything was as it had been. He flicked off the light and stepped back into Sabo's room, sliding the mirror back where it belonged and hearing the latch softly click into place. He then returned to the kitchen, feeling significantly more fidgety than he had to begin with.

When Sabo walked through the front door five hours later, he raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?" He asked, seeing Ace stretching. The black-haired man had moved some of the furniture to leave a clear space, and there was even a mat laid out on the floor. "And where'd you get the mat?"

"Found it in a closet," Ace grunted, switching positions, almost flowing from one to the next, though his limbs were visibly trembling and sweat lined his brow. "And I'm stretching."

"I can see that much," Sabo said as he put his hat on its usual resting place: the counter. If he didn't put it there, he ran the chance of forgetting it when he inevitably ran out of time and rushed out the door in the morning. He took an experimental sniff and hummed in appreciation. "But be careful. You should know better than to push yourself too hard. Did you make dinner?"

"Yup." The smell had filled the apartment.

"So," Sabo began, eyeing Ace critically. "What…"

Ace sighed, dropping out of the last stance and assuming a relaxed pose against the wall. He wasn't wearing a shirt - Sabo made a mental note to lend the guy one or two of his until they found out where he came from or until they went shopping - and his skin was gleaming with sweat.

"I honestly don't know for sure. I was getting really...fidgety? Something like that. Anyway, earlier I was getting all twitchy, so I decided to just do some simple stretching, but when I got on the mat…" He shrugged. "My body kind of moved on its own." He absently rubbed his tattoo. "I feel like I've gone through that routine before."

"You certainly look like it," Sabo commented offhandedly while taking off his jacket and gloves. "Your wounds bothering you?"

"Not too bad. I can definitely feel them, though."

"Hm...okay. We'll change your bandages soon. Go shower; have you eaten yet?"

Ace nodded. "Enough to tide me over until I'm sure you're done with your portion."

Sabo grunted in acknowledgement and went over to the kitchen, mouth watering at the smell of food. Meanwhile, Ace went to shower, just barely making it over the threshold of the bathroom before he collapsed.

"Narcolepsy?" Ace repeated, rubbing his head and giving Sabo a questioning look. "Seriously?"

"I believe so. This isn't the first time it's happened," Sabo reminded Ace.

"Yeah, but it's the first time it's happened while I'm walking."

"But you've face planted into your food before, so I'm going with a really, really severe case of narcolepsy. Either that or your stretching took a lot more out of you than you thought. Or both."

Ace sighed, poking at his dinner. He'd woken up to Sabo's somewhat panicked shaking, and after getting the fact that he wasn't about to die cleared up, Ace had finished his shower. Now the two were sitting at Sabo's relatively small dinner table.

"I don't suppose you know anyone prominent that has narcolepsy," he tried, his expression falling when Sabo shook his head no. "Damn."

Sabo, seeing that Ace was bouncing his leg, decided to take the initiative an distract Ace from his narcolepsy problem. "Listen, I figure we can head out tomorrow to get you some clothes. I need to get more food anyway, and while we're out you can try to see if you remember anything else. Who knows? Maybe we'll run into someone you knew. And the fresh air will probably do you some good."

Ace brightened at the idea, and then deflated a second later. "But I don't have a shirt." He paused. "Wait, did I have a shirt when I first arrived here?"

Sabo thought for a moment and then shook his head. "Nope. You, sir, were shirtless."

Surprisingly, Ace didn't seem bothered by that suggestion in the slightest. "Huh."

"Remember anything?"

Ace's mouth twisted. "No, just a feeling...like, it's not weird that I wasn't wearing a shirt. Or something like that." He made a vague hand gesture. "It's hard to describe."

Sabo gave him an odd look. "O-kay. I've got work to do tonight, so I'll be in my room after I make your couch a little more comfortable. Knock if you need anything."

"Roger that," Ace said with a mock salute. Sabo rolled his eyes, but there was a certain kind of budding fondness twisting his lips.

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