(A/N: Hello! This update was even slower! Hope you didn't ditch the story because of my tardiness. ^u^; In my defense I had finals, and the week after that was my sister's High School graduation, so we had a bunch of family over that I had to entertain and spend time with, then we had her party, then I had to go to a birthday party the next night, so I obviously wasn't writing then…in any case, yeah. Blah. It's late, and I'm sorry.
Know what else I'm sorry about? My EPIC FAILURE to respond to the reviews! SO SORRY GUYS! As I said, I've been busy, and it was either use the time now (1:37 AM to be exact) to write the chapter or to respond to reviews. I thought you'd prefer the chapter, so I worked on this instead. I'll try to do a better job of review response this time, I promise!
Anonymous Reviews:
Guest (Shishiochan): Thank you! I most certainly will! Oh really? I was actually unaware of that! Interesting to know, but it's a little late now, so I guess that's just kind of…disregarded at this point. ^u^; Sorry. But for the benefit of the plot Thatch had to listen to Ace, and I thought he would disagree, so I kinda needed to boot him out the door and that was the easiest feasible way I could do it. I will certainly try to add more depth to him. As of yet he hasn't played as central of a role as Thatch and Ace, so we've gotten less of his dialogue and none of his perspective (we probably won't be getting much of his perspective as he is the main antagonist of the story), but I'll certainly try to give him more vibrancy. Well…what should he have done? Teach may be a creeper, but he's still part of the crew, it's not like Thatch could just murder him or anything, and wouldn't you be pissed if your best friend was being stalked by someone, someone who your friend was helping? I'd be pissed. Especially if said friend was in a happy, steady relationship with another of my friends. I'd be really pissed. But if you have a suggestion for a way I can edit it to possibly make it better, I'm all ears. Just be aware I might not necessarily use your idea. (Hahaha yeah…it was pretty badass, but you've gotta admit it was dumb.) I'm going to get around to explaining that in this chapter, actually. You'll find out in the dialogue if you pay attention. I will vaguely mention at one point why the dogs were such a struggle, but it won't be until one of the later chapters. That is worrying, isn't it? I'm surprised you were the first one to pick up on that. And the fact that Teach doesn't know there's a fake fruit at all. That would be really unfortunate, wouldn't it? Hahaha hooray for dichotomies! Yeah, me too. …I can't decide how to incorporate Marco during this section of the plot. He's going to be in it a lot more later, but I can't decide if I can or should incorporate him more now…it just seems like it'd be a little out of place and somewhat unimportant, and thus hard to come up with something meaningful to include in his parts…but we'll see. Well, not necessarily religious. I mean, yes, he made some religious references in the last chapter, but I don't picture him as the go-to-church-every-Sunday kind of guy. If anything…he's probably agnostic leaning towards mildly religious, not necessarily believing in a Christian God, but just in some greater consciousness in the universe in general. You're welcome. I know the update was horribly slow, so please excuse my tardiness!
Ohboyitsdrsexy: Thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed them! :) Imagine Dragons certainly is a great band. My sister took me to the concert for my birthday. :D Isn't it SUCH a good song?! I'm absolutely in love with it. Hahahaha you are now my friend, congratulations. XD I do not in fact have a tumblr, because if I did I would get even LESS done than I already do. Seriously, the internet is already distracting enough. If I had a tumblr…I'd probably never see sunlight again. XD
Mafa: Thanks! I'm glad you like them! C: Imagine Dragons is epic. Hahaha good job, you are now my friend. Congrats. XD Thanks!
Cheshire9996: Aw, thank you! I'm glad you like it! YES! MARCOXACE OTP FTW! Thank you, I'll certainly do my best!
Guest (no signature): I'm glad you liked it! :) Yes, it might have been a little bit of a cheese overload, but if I didn't vent that stuff all out in one go it would have just continually popped up throughout the story and ruined pretty much the whole emotional tone…so yeah. They had to be spewed at the beginning. XD Isn't it just? I wish I could be in a relationship like that. *forever alone* I'm glad it's not painfully OOC, to be honest! I really did my best to keep him…well, like Ace. Glad you enjoyed, and I hope you're still reading!
Side note: In this chapter, Ace is going to reference Tarot Cards. I looked up and wrote a document that's a simple analysis of each card's meaning, and I'm going to post said document on my profile. Feel like possibly getting a hint of what's to come? Look at the cards' meanings and maybe you'll be able to figure something out. ;) They're also going to be a…well, kind of a theme, and they'll either foreshadow events to come or Ace (or possibly someone else) will have a reaction to them that has to do with recent events in the story. It won't be terribly important, but again provides some interesting depth if you feel like taking a little extra time. Also: I'm aware that the way Ace reads the Tarot cards may not be accurate at all as far as how you actually read them, but doing a full reading is too complicated.
Alright, after this incongruously long Author's Notes, how about we start the actual chapter?)
~And the seasons stop~
Several hours and a good deal of cursing later, Ace found himself returned to the small house that served as their temporary refuge. The sun was just beginning to come up as he emerged from the trees, probably half a mile from the little abode. A few fading stars still dotted the sky, and gentle peach already began touching the eastern horizon. As he walked, dew wetted his pants and boots, the little drops cool with the dawn air.
As he reached the porch, the door flew open and Thatch rushed out, bundling him into the house. Shutting the door behind them, he spun to face Ace. "Damn it, you scared the hell out of me! Do you know how long I've been waiting here? I thought you'd been captured!" he snapped. "What happened to the whole, 'be back by dawn' plan?" Ace raised his hands placatingly.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I got lost on the way back." Ace said. "It was only after running from the dogs that I realized I had no idea where the heck I was, and then the damn marines were freakin' combing the woods, so I had to dodge them and figure out where I was and how to get back." Thatch still looked less than happy, and Ace clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm fine, Thatch. Nothing happened." Ace glanced out the window at the now fast-rising sun. "But we're going to have to get moving pretty quick now if we want to get out of here before they start patrolling the water." Thatch, after another moment of scowling, turned to look out the window as well, analyzing the rising sun and the distantly stirring town. It would, in all likelihood, be a really close call even if they did leave now. He could see white uniforms already swarming over the navy-designated area of the port.
"It might be better to wait a few days. They're going to be out in force after last night, if we leave now there's a high chance we'll spot us." Thatch said. Ace bit his lip.
"But if we wait any longer the morning fog will burn off and we'll have even less chance. And…I'd really like to leave today." Ace replied. Thatch gave him a questioning look, and Ace sighed, then elaborated. "It's September 30th. If we leave any later…" He trailed off. Thatch blinked at him.
"Oh that's right! We have to get you home!" Thatch looked out the window again, at the rising sun, at the little white dots that were the marines scurrying around the port, and lastly at the forest. He scowled. "If Teach would hurry the hell up-" Ace blanched.
"He's not back yet?! Has he been caught?" he said. Thatch shook his head.
"As far as I can tell based on their movements he hasn't been caught, and no he's not back yet. To be completely honest, I'm a little surprised he hasn't been captured. Never seemed much of the sneaky, subtle type to me." Thatch said. He scowled. "Especially after that stunt he pulled last night." Ace sighed.
"I'm going to talk to him about that." he said. "Just…leave that issue to me, okay? I don't think yelling at him – as I'm sure you'd like to – would really enforce the lesson he needs to learn from this."
"You better explain to him how much he royally screwed us over last night. He needs to understand that even if it's not in the direct orders it should always be a subtext to not-" Thatch cut off abruptly and froze, Ace tensing simultaneously, hearing the same thing.
Footsteps.
Ace met Thatch's eyes and, seeing his expression, nodded. They moved silently, padding over to either side of the door, Ace drawing a short, poisoned blade from its sheath strapped to his ribcage. He crouched beside the door, doused in the shadows of the corner. Whoever was coming in would have lost any semblance of night vision with the rising sun, so Ace, for a few moments at least, would be concealed. That would be enough time to stab the man, and even if the blow wasn't fatal, the poison on the blade made it otherwise. It would constrict the airways almost instantly after entering the bloodstream, so there wouldn't be a chance to scream or attract attention.
Thatch, on the other hand, took up a position on the opposite side of the door, slinking under the range of visibility from the window there. He slowly raised himself, peering subtly over the windowsill, trying to catch a glimpse of the intruder. He visibly relaxed and huffed in annoyance, straightening. Ace, taking this as a cue, relaxed as well, sheathing the knife and rising. Thatch, making an effort to at least not look mad, opened the door.
Teach, after the twitch of surprise as the door opened unexpectedly, stepped through hurriedly at Ace's hasty waving. A marine patrol was emerging from the trees, and while they hadn't spotted Teach yet, if he stood out there any longer they would.
Thatch shut the door behind Teach, and with Teach's back to him, focused a momentary yet murderous glare on the back of his head. Once Teach was safely inside and the door bolted, Ace turned to Thatch.
"How're they doing at the harbor?" he asked. Thatch moved to look out the window, but as soon as he neared it he practically leapt back.
"Shit." he exclaimed in an elevated whisper. "They're searching the houses." Ace's eyes widened.
"Did they see you?" he asked. Thatch shook his head, eyes still focused on the patrol. After another moment, he turned away to look at Ace again.
"You said this house was abandoned before we moved in, right?" Ace nodded assent. Thatch turned back to the window. "…In that case, they probably won't search it. We didn't leave any visible signs of life outside, so it still looks the same as it did when it was abandoned. All the same, if they do come to search it, I'd like to be ready. Is there anywhere in the house we could use as a hiding place?"
"Well, there is the basement." Teach interjected, face serious. Ace blinked, turning to look at him, eyes slightly narrowed.
"I didn't know this place had a basement." Teach nodded.
"Yeah, I found it when you two went into town, before you came back with the floor plan of the base. Looks like it hasn't been used in years. The door was actually under a chair. I don't think even the previous owners knew it was there."
"Show me."
Teach turned away, beckoning. Ace followed him out of the front room and down the hallway, out into the kitchen/dining room. Here, Teach pushed aside the chairs on the left side of the table, even moving the table itself, and flipped back the rug it was sitting on. Beneath it, an almost trap-door style entrance was attached to a pair of recessed hinges. Teach seized the handle and pulled open the door, a flurry of dust accompanying the whuff of stale air that billowed out.
It wasn't as dark inside as Ace had honestly expected when he'd seen the door. It was subterranean, yes, but spaced along the walls were a few tiny hatch-like windows. Morning light poured through them, illuminating the bare, dry space. A few shelves were sprinkled along the walls, but the floor was empty of any furniture whatsoever. The space was dry, the shelves clear but for the layer of fairly thick dust that had settled here and on the stairs that led from the door down to the floor of the basement, near the left wall.
The small windows were angled in such a way as only light could come in, the glass weathered and old but not fragile, and from the dirty sepia they'd been stained over the years, they'd be invisible unless you stepped on one, and you'd only step on one if you were walking less than ten inches away from the edge of the house.
All in all, Ace doubted they'd find a better hiding place.
Ace nodded briskly and shut the door again, pulling the rug and furniture back over it. It'd do. It was better than he'd honestly been expecting. He turned to Teach.
"Start packing up our stuff. We're going to have to camp in there until the patrols move off," he said.
"And you?" Teach asked. Ace merely glanced back. His voice retained the same chilliness it'd had since Teach returned.
"I'm going to make a few surprises for our friends." Teach grinned and nodded, and Ace set off, heading back to the front/living room where the majority of his stuff was. In the door he paused, turning back to look at Teach. His face was even darker now. "You and I are still going to talk about last night, do you understand?" Teach sighed in exasperation.
"We don't have to. Honestly, it's not like it was that big a deal-" Ace's eyes went frosty, his tone harsh.
"Don't. Contradict. Me. You are on a very short leash now. 'Not that big a deal' almost got you and a commander, my best friend, killed last night. Now is not the time, but don't think you've gotten out of anything. We are going to discuss this, and there will be repercussions." Ace spun and left, not even glancing back.
"Alright, I'm going to go over it one more time just to ensure nobody accidentally blows themselves up, okay?" Teach and Thatch nodded, Thatch's assent accompanied with a rolling of eyes, and listened as Ace continued. "There's a tripwire near the front door that, when pulled, will light that candle in the basement. That's our sign that the marines have entered the house. That's the candle on the far left. As the marines continue through the house, there's a few more as they draw nearer to the basement door, and as they do they'll light more candles, all in a line. If all the candles are lit, that means they're in the dining room."
"Alright, we understand the concept of your lightshow. You've only explained it three times now." Thatch said with another eye roll.
"Yes, well, I'm explaining it again." Ace said with annoyance. He resumed after a mini-staring contest with Thatch, tone back to businesslike. "Here's where things start getting dangerous. Strapped to the bottom of the table, and the dining room chairs, is a high explosive encased in a shell. They move that furniture to get the door open? Boom. Like, serious boom. The blast itself is extremely violent, but the radius is small. It's the shrapnel that's going to be deadly.
"The explosive is encased in a ceramic shell that is very fragile. However, when the bomb goes off, the heat and pressure is going to solidify the shards to near steel in resilience. Mixed into the ceramic sediment is seastone dust, so even devil fruit users will be blown away. These bombs are fragile and live. As we move into the basement I'm going to be placing the last one, under the chair that's going to be sitting on top of us. If any of the bombs go off it's probably going to blow open the door. That happens? We come out swinging. In all likelihood none of the marines are going to be left standing, injured or killed by wood or ceramic shrapnel. I just want to be ready in case they aren't. In the best case scenario, they'll pass the house by and we can be on our way by nightfall." Ace was still somewhat pissed that they'd have to waste that much time, but the patrols were taking so long that it was a certainty that the marines would have their battleships out before they'd get the chance to sneak away, ergo they had to wait for cover of darkness before slipping by the naval blockade. "Worst case, we either have to camp down there for a few days before they loosen up more or the marines end up setting off the bombs, in which case we're going to have to blow out of here and off this island in a…less subtle way. The best case scenario is infinitely preferable." The two nodded, Thatch looking somewhat bored after this third repetition, but Teach looking more serious after Ace's pseudo-threat earlier. Ace took a breath and continued.
"Assuming the worst-case scenario and the bombs do go off and we do have to blast out of there, I've given each of you two smoke bombs. If you detonate them, don't stay in the smoke long, it's mildly irritating to the eyes and lungs. Long-term exposure can be dangerous. Once you get out of the house, head for the trees. If you have a tail, lose it before you get to the boat. Haste is everything, though, so don't dilly-dally. Once at the boat, assuming you're not the last one there, make every preparation for departure. Once all three of us are there, we'll ship out. I'll be able to punch us a hole in the blockade, but after that it'll be in our best interest to lose any pursuit. Our ship was designed for speed, not combat, and we must use that to our fullest advantage." Ace took a deep breath and visibly relaxed. "For now, we can wait up here. It's only if the patrols start heading this way that we have to hide. Thatch, please keep watch. I need to have a little chat with Teach." Thatch nodded and turned back to the window, not needing to be asked twice to keep an eye on a far-too-close-for-comfort threat.
Ace led Teach away, down the hall and into the study. He gestured to a chair, and Teach sat down. Ace walked to the desk, taking a deep breath as he lowered himself into his own seat. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, steepling his fingers and leaning his moth against them.
He stared at Teach.
Teach's chair was placed (purposefully) in the near-center of the room, no objects around for him to distract himself with or in any way subtly hide himself behind. After a few moments he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, Ace's cool gaze unsettling. Ace made no visible response. He didn't move. He didn't speak.
He just stared.
After possibly two minutes of perfect silence, Teach finally broke. "Well? What? What are you going to say?" Ace's silence and staring was doing exactly what it was supposed to: unnerving. Ace had to get under Teach's skin if he wanted to make any kind of lasting impression, so it seemed. Kindness hadn't worked and Ace wasn't above manipulating psychology to his advantage when he turned to less friendly methods.
Silence was much stronger than words.
Ace didn't deign to reply right away, instead letting Teach stew and sweat under his gaze. His face remained expressionless. Passive. Stony. A marble statue hadn't been stiller. After another fifteen seconds of silence Ace finally spoke.
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily, before refocusing his gaze on Teach. "Since my words seem to have no value or meaning in your eyes, we're going to try something different." His voice was as cool as his gaze, as cool as his expression, as cool as marble. "You tell me what you did wrong. Since you apparently have no respect for me and the commands I give you and so love your own thought process and actions and you think them so much better than mine, deign to tell me why you think I'm less than happy with your recent performance." Teach swallowed thickly.
"I didn't mean-" Ace raised an eyebrow slowly.
"Oh?" His voice was as expressionless and fluid as before. "Then you were dragged to the base? By whom? We'll have to tell Oyaji it was his fault that there's now quite possibly a war on." Teach openly blanched.
"What?!" Ace closed his eyes and sighed, disappointment painfully evident in the sound even though it didn't cross his statuesque face. His eyes remained closed as he spoke again.
"The reason for subtly, Teach. The reason for stealth. Do you know what it is? Do you know what those words even mean?" As he finished the second question, he reopened his eyes, refocusing his still gaze on Teach. Teach didn't reply, so after another painfully long stretch of silence Ace continued. "They mean peace. They mean anonymity. But now, thanks to your methods, both have quite possibly been irreparably destroyed."
"…How?" Teach barely ventured to ask. He'd never seen Ace – anyone – like this. Cold. Distant. A glacier was more friendly.
"When I released the dogs, I was unable to use normal methods, Teach. I had to use my devil fruit. Nobody without the fruit could have done the same thing undetected, just like nobody else could have burned those swaths of ground when I was covering our escape. Anyone with half a brain can now connect me – in my rescue attempt to save you – to the deaths and theft of the devil fruit, which means they can connect it infallibly to Oyaji." Ace's empty eyes bored into Teach's. He allowed another powerful moment of silence. "You, Marshall D. Teach, have quite possibly started a war between the Whitebeard Pirates and the World Government. Countless lives, many those of your brothers and sisters, are quite probably going to end because of you. Because of what you've done." Ace leaned forward, dead eyes pinning Teach down. "So tell me why, exactly, you think your personal happiness, your personal glory is worth more than that." He stated the question with the same non-inflection as before.
Teach didn't reply.
Ace allowed the silence to stretch for minutes. He rarely blinked, and his gaze never twitched from Teach. Teach, after the first minute had looked away, but still Ace's eyes remained fixed on him. After what Ace deemed an appropriate amount of time, he stood, walking silently past Teach and to the door.
"Exactly."
His word practically echoed in the silence of the room, and he shut the door behind him.
Early evening found Ace in the bedroom. All through the day they'd kept constant surveillance on the marine patrols, but as Thatch had said, the marines still believed the house to be abandoned. No patrol actually came to the door, and while they'd had a scare when one stopped outside the gate, apparently debating whether to check the house or not, they hadn't needed to retreat to the basement.
Earlier that afternoon, Thatch had taken his place at watch and told him to go get some rest. Ace had tried, but sleep eluded him. He'd dozed lightly for about an hour, but it wasn't restful. Ace's senses were still on edge, like they'd been when he'd walked down those open, lighted hallways in the marine base. It had confused Ace, but he couldn't make it stop.
He couldn't help feeling enemy doors were about to open all around him.
He sighed and shuffled the cards.
Ace wasn't superstitious, and logically he knew they were just cards and could, in no way, predict his future, but it was something of a habit of his to turn to them whenever he felt particularly stressed or unsettled. The methodical motion of shuffling, cutting, and reshuffling the deck was soothing, and once the cards had been laid analyzing possible significance (he knew it was just his own mind trying – and sometimes forcing – some kind of connection between the inked images and his life) was an amusing, ever-changing puzzle, and he enjoyed it.
The deck was new, a gift from Thatch for his last birthday, and while the still-stiff new cards were a little harder to shuffle, the images were unique, different than any other deck Ace had ever had. They were beautiful, inked in vibrant hues with elegant calligraphy labeling each.
The Tarot Cards danced in Ace's hands as he shuffled them again.
...
The sun was sinking fast now, and Thatch knew it was time to get the ball rolling, as far as their departure went. He stood stiffly from his position near the window, stretching and feeling his joints pop. It'd be good to get home. It'd be good to get off this damn island. Watching marines pathetically scurry back and forth in their attempt to find them had been amusing…for about twenty minutes. After that, it hadn't taken long for Thatch to get bored. He still watched dutifully, trading off every two and a half hours or so with Teach or Ace, but it became more and more of a struggle to not get distracted. Now, though, he could afford a bit of a respite.
About ten minutes before, Thatch had watched the last patrol begin straggling back to the base, in need of different supplies if they intended to continue their search by night. They'd need to regroup with their superiors. Thatch was certain now that the rear-admiral had been the highest-ranked man in the base at the time, because the level of organization of the search had been…well, feeble, at best. The rear-admiral hadn't always been in charge, though. This particular base served as a kind of center-of-operations for none other than Kizaru. He must have swung through here recently and cleaned this place out of everyone competent. The marine had recently gotten in a tangle with Big Mom and her crew, and the casualties hadn't been light. It made sense that he'd pull resources from his semi-home base after taking a hit like that.
The end result was they were left dealing with the runts of the litter. Not a bad position, and Thatch wouldn't have it any other way.
Thatch walked through the house, heading for the dining room. They'd put all their gear in there in preparation for the possible retreat to the basement in the case of a marine patrol. Thatch grabbed two of the packs off the table, swinging one over his shoulder, and carried them out the back door.
He leaned them against the back porch, and after a second run, the third pack joined them. Thatch headed back inside, wanting to do a sweep of the house to make sure they didn't leave anything behind on their way out.
...
Ace, after finishing the final shuffle, held the cards in his hands for a moment before dealing.
He pulled the three bottommost cards of the deck, laying them facedown in a row. The past. Next, he randomly selected three from the middle of the deck. The present. Finally, he pulled the top three, laying them facedown as well. The future.
Ace studied the backs of the cards for a moment. Of all the hobbies to have, even he would admit this one might seem strange to other people. Marco hadn't questioned it, though. He'd just chuckled and rolled with it. Ace smiled at the thought. Once, upon his request, Ace had even read Marco's future for him in the cards. Ace knew Marco didn't believe the cards could tell the future, and frankly he didn't really believe so either, but on occasion they had been eerily right. Ace chalked it up to chance and a desire for the cards to have predicted it, i.e. he was making connections where there were none, but these occasional bouts of truth were interesting.
Ace flipped over the three cards representing the past.
Ten of Cups.
Nine of Wands.
Ace of Cups.
Ace smiled at the last one, gently running a finger over the image of the chalice, six flamboyant goldfish swirling nearby, five faeries in attendance. I certainly hope so…
...
Thatch was fairly certain they'd forgotten nothing in the house. All that was left was getting Ace to disassemble that little work of pyrotechnics he'd performed on the dining room furniture. Ace had been in the bedroom a long time, and Thatch had no doubt he was still sound asleep. Thatch didn't really want to wake him, it was clear after the mission that Ace needed rest, and Thatch thought another fifteen minutes wouldn't do any harm. The sun was still painting the horizon as an open furnace, and they'd have to wait for full dark to head out anyways.
Stepping back outside the building and into the cooling air, Thatch heaved in and released a deep breath. It was crisp, and while he wasn't a huge fan of the cold, the light jacket he had on was enough to keep him comfortable in this amicable fall weather. The stars were beginning to emerge, and Thatch tilted his head back, taking in the barest glimmerings of their nightly birth.
The blow to the back of his head was hard enough that his vision went black for a full second.
He could feel himself falling, crumbling to the ground, and with his stunned, dimmed instinct was able to use this sensation to cling to consciousness. He forced himself to try to struggle to his feet, but instantly a grip like steel clamped on each of his arms, stilling him on his knees.
"Hello Thatch. Scream and you'll never speak again."
...
Ace placed the card back next to its brothers. The smile was still on his face, the card's positive message still echoing in his mind. He turned to the cards that represented the present.
The World.
The Moon.
The Wheel of Fortune.
Ace frowned gently at the cards. Those were a little less than settling.
...
He'd made to scream anyway, despite the threat, but the powerful blow to the solar plexus had left him gasping, all air having quit his lungs at the impact.
They dragged him into the woods, a ways from the house. Out of general hearing range, and definitely out of sight. When he finally got enough air to speak, he didn't hesitate a moment before employing his voice.
"You sneaky, backstabbing, lying son of a bitch!" Another blow, this time a hard punch across the face. He felt his jaw crack and his vision swam with spots.
"You're not in a position to making insults, taichou. Now, let's not make this any harder than it has to be. Where's the fruit?" Thatch didn't reply, merely glared up, split lip and bloody nose striping his face with crimson, bruise already forming beneath his eye. "Speak. Or this gets ugly." Thatch spat blood near his feet.
"It already is. I mean, the least you could do is blindfold me. Looking at your face should go under cruel and unusual punishment," he half sneered, half snarled in response. Another blow.
...
Ace ghosted his fingers over the cards of the present, eyebrows gently furrowed. You know they're practically never right. This isn't surprising. Ace sighed. Yeah, but after that reading of the past…I kind hoped they had been this time.
...
Thatch was panting now after a series of vicious kicks to his stomach and torso. Blood now streamed down his face from an undoubtedly broken nose and split lip. He'd bitten his tongue by now as well, and he was sure the amount of blood on his face would be alarming under normal circumstances.
These certainly weren't normal circumstances.
Thatch entirely disregarded the blood on his face, the pain of his jaw, the sharp ache in his chest where he just knew several ribs were at least cracked, and, most of all, the way a tiny part of his mind was begging him to just give it up already.
"The fruit, Thatch." Thatch dragged his gaze back up to his betrayer.
"Fuck you, Teach." Thatch panted.
Teach crouched down so he was eye to eye with Thatch. He stared into his face for a moment before, without warning, he lashed out, wrapping his hand around Thatch's throat and squeezing. Thatch felt the loss of his ability to breathe and for a moment, panicked. But no. He wouldn't. He wouldn't succumb to this. His eyes, which, a moment before had been widened in terror, narrowed, focusing back on Teach, bold, defiant, and unbreakable. Thatch stared his death straight in the face.
If I am going to die I will not die afraid.
...
Ace turned, at last, to the cards of the future. He hesitated over them, unsure. The reading of the past had seemed…accurate. Ace wasn't even idealizing. It really had seemed like what his life had been for the last year or so. The reading of the present, though, was substantially less accurate. Ace agreed he had had a streak of bad luck and changes beyond his control, but he couldn't think of anything on as large a scale as the cards were showing. Especially that one. The Moon…
...
Thatch's body had just fallen limp when Teach released him. He took in a great, raspy gasp, coughing and spluttering, fighting to return air to his suffocating body. If he'd been barely conscious after the blow to his head, there weren't words to describe how far gone he was now. His vision was tunneling, and swimming beyond that. The images his eyes were picking up were blurry and distant, and he could barely hear, much less comprehend, what Teach was saying to whoever was holding him down.
What he did comprehend was Teach turning and starting to head towards the house.
Heading towards Ace.
Thatch fought with all his might for his flagging consciousness. He clung to it as if he were drowning, struggling against the darkness like a thing possessed. He had to warn Ace. Ace was still in there, asleep. Ace's sensory Haki was probably good enough to pick up on Teach, but he was so acclimated to his presence that it wouldn't be enough to wake him up. Thatch had to warn him. Get him out of there.
His throat burned after its recent experience, but Thatch dragged the air over it, forcing more into his lungs, forcing his mind to come back online, his body to start working again. Teach was getting closer, already he was fading into the trees and Thatch knew it wouldn't be long beyond that when he reached the house.
In a flash Thatch's control returned to him.
He took in a great heaving gulp of air, not unlike the previous ones, but this time unmarred by coughing. His bruised throat protested at what he planned to do, but hell if he'd just leave Ace to that traitor.
...
Ace flipped over the cards of the future, careful to not look until he'd flipped all three. The reading of the present was still bugging him, and he was still preoccupied by it, not really paying attention yet to these cards. His gaze wandered over them, but with his mind so distant he didn't even really register what they were.
"ACE, RUN!"
Ace's eyes snapped wide, surge of surprise flashing through him. Thatch. Shout. Ace.
Run.
An electric jolt of adrenaline shot through his body, freezing this moment like a still frame in his mind. In an instant Ace was up, across the room, had flung open the window, and was halfway through it. As he passed through the opening into the cool night air, bounding and running faster than a spooked deer, he heard the door slam open, followed by footsteps.
The unidentified footsteps attempted to pursue, but a cheetah would have had difficulty catching Ace in that moment. He dashed through the trees, heedless of direction, heedless of time, heedless of anything but that primary instinct. Escape.
Because Thatch had sounded terrified, and Thatch was never afraid.
...
Three cards sat on a table, unheeded. They had come from the top of a deck that had been shuffled seven times in an attempt to get the stiffness out of them and their brethren. Cards that, supposedly, told the future.
Ace of Swords.
Eight of Wands.
Death.
(A/N: Sorry the chapter's a bit shorter than usual...I hope you still enjoyed it anyway!
And thus we're into the next stage of the plot. This is really the first stage, the rest being kind of...set up. But it was necessary for you to get all the background before we got around to this bit.
Just so everyone knows, from here on out is where the rating is going to start actually being 'M', so...yeah. Be prepared.
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But seriously, it really, really helps me out to hear what you guys think, and I'd especially love hearing your analysis of the Tarot cards and any predictions you have for the plot! Seriously guys, go for it! I want to hear what you guys think is coming. I promise to respond this time!
C:
As ever, I LOVE YOU ALL! I'll see you next time!
Stuff'nStuff)