(Welcome back, all! I deeply apologize for the slow update. At least this time I was better at getting back to all of you on your reviews (I don't think I missed anyone this time…=.=). Anyways, glad to have you all back for another chapter, and I hope you enjoy!

Anonymous Reviews

Shishiochan (who should really get an account so we can talk. Because this is now going to be the longest Author's Notes ever.): Glad you liked it! :D Yes, summer vacation is nice! Unfortunately for me, I have to take physics over the summer, so I have much less writing time than I originally anticipated. Thanks! Ace is very good at pyrotechnics/chemistry. Yeah…it is rather unfortunate. It was a clever idea. Yup, Teach finally made his move. Eh, I kinda liked it. :) And it's not like he does it obsessively, just when he has a bit of spare time he doesn't know what to do with. Well, Sengoku might not, but it would still cause conflict with Kizaru at least, and it would give the Government an excuse to send the Navy after the Whitebeard Pirates. Either short-term or long-term, it would have caused some kind of conflict, which would have lead to loss of life. So it would have been better to avoid detection. Yeah…fighting 3 of the yonkou probably isn't on the marine's to-do list, but they can't exactly just sit there after one of their bases was attacked by Whitebeard commanders. Hahaha Teach might not have seemed subtle here, but he's had far more intelligence than any of the characters have attributed him up until this point. Well…in this case, Thatch was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. If Ace had been the one packing up their stuff, he would've been the one that got jumped. Ace is trying very hard. This is a very high-tension mission (or was, before Teach screwed it all up), and he was put in charge of that. He wants to prove that wasn't a mistake. Well, that and I at least think he probably matured somewhere in the last 10 years. ^u^ Yeah! Go Thatch for saving Ace! Poor guy, though. I'm so mean to him. :( And yes. Even in the face of pain and death, our dear Thatch is still as snarky and salty as ever! Good! Death is a card of change, BIG change. The end of something old and the introduction of something new. Doesn't necessarily imply an actual death. Hahaha it took a good deal of time, but I'm satisfied with the result, so it's all worth it, in my eyes. :) Well, he had no way of knowing what was going on. Marco could indeed make for some good tension release…if I had any idea how to write humor. XC Well, that'd be nice too. …Well, you make a point, but you have to remember he's not part of the operation. From the very beginning he was supposed to remain outside the base. He was in…pirate time-out if you will. And a tank isn't what they needed. They needed subtlety and stealth. I'll be getting more into him in the next chapters. He's been seen in an unfavorable light due to this being mainly from Ace's perspective, but I think I'm actually going to include a few segments from his perspective, if not necessarily in this chapter. He's also slated to have a good deal more dialogue, so hopefully you'll find him more intriguing of an antagonist in the future. Well…I already have the whole plot figured out. It's just a matter of flushing it out into dialogue, scenes, and chapters. As I said before: Teach'll get a bit more depth as the story continues. Hopefully this issue'll be cleared up as the story progresses. :) I'm probably going to need to reference it in order to accurately get Blackbeard's crew. I know…well, not much about them. Hahaha that'd be nice, yes. As I said, it'll really only be a small note in a MUCH later chapter, but you should be able to discern why they're so tough based on it. (That'd suck for them, but it's not what I have in mind.) Hahaha it's okay, but you should seriously consider getting an account so we don't get another author's note that's over 700 words. ^u^;

WARNING: this chapter contains MILD VIOLENCE and BRIEF LANGUAGE

~And hide beneath the ground~

By the time Ace stopped, night had entirely settled over the island. He leaned heavily against a tree, breath puffing out in front of him in a hot cloud. It was cold tonight. Above, the stars glimmered coldly, distant, remote, and frigid. Shards of glass waiting to rain down and slice the island to tatters.

He waited for his breath to return to normal, for the ache to leave his muscles. The bark dug into his back through his shirt, but it was comfortingly solid in a world of uncertainty. Thatch had said to run and Ace had, but he had one question.

Why?

What had happened? What was wrong? Ace didn't know. He'd heard someone come into the house as he made his exit, but he hadn't seen them or turned to look as he fled.

Ace took a deep breath. He needed to know what was going on, but before even that, he needed to take a moment to reorganize his adrenaline-frazzled mind. He allowed his eyes to close and took a moment to let his mind refamiliarize itself with every piece of the body it controlled. He slid his conscious down each limb, though each nerve, assessing his current physical condition. His left arm first, down to the last fingertip. Then the right. Both were in good, working order. His torso. His lungs still burned lightly, and his heart thudded dully, but both sensations were fading as his breathing normalized. Left leg. Right. Both were aching from the exertion he'd subjected them to, but still in working order. Already the pain was fading.

All being well physically, Ace turned to his mind. His senses were still on high alert after the surprise and his flight, but beneath that was a growing problem. He was getting tired. Fatigue led to negligence, and negligence, in a situation with as many unknowns as this one, led to death. He hadn't slept since before the mission, now almost 24 hours before. He was in trouble in this department, but there was very little chance of him getting a decent amount of rest any time soon.

Ace opened his eyes after this self-examination, feeling calmer. He was himself, and he was in good, working condition. Whatever this situation was, he could deal with it. Now it was time to assess something else.

Ace was still wearing the mottled grays and blacks of the night before, The loose shirt and pants would keep him disguised at night, but come morning their current colors would stand out against the brown-greens of the forest. That wasn't a problem as of yet, and he'd only deal with it when it actually became a problem. He had too much on his plate to worry about it just yet. Unfortunately, he'd removed most of the gear he'd been wearing for the mission besides the clothes, so he was left with very little in the way of equipment.

He had three knives, though.

One was the dagger kept nearly constantly at his waist. Lightweight, quick, keen. The curved blade and handle wasn't made for throwing, but in hand-to-hand combat, nothing could compare in speed. Strapped to the underside of his left arm was a thin, flat blade. It was good for stabbing and slashing, and the thinness of the blade was perfect for slipping between ribs or vertebrae. It was best employed in stealth attacks that left someone dead before combat, the blade too thin to take any heavy hits without breaking. The final knife was a slender, smooth one concealed in his boot. It was sturdy enough to be serviceable in combat, but was too short for it to be preferable. It was a solution in a worst-case scenario.

Ace took a deep breath. This was workable. It might not be preferable by any stretch of the imagination, but it was workable. He was armed and, while it was still dark, disguised. Of course he'd rather have access to all of his weapons, chemical materials, and other equipment, but he was, with these knives and his devil fruit, still lethal.

Now all that was left was to figure out what the hell was going on.

He needed to find Thatch. He didn't know if Thatch was in trouble or not, but either way, he knew what was going on. Either he needed help, or Ace could use his help. Yes, but that's assuming he's still ali- Don't. Don't you dare. Ace wasn't going to accept the worst case until he was forced to, not even in his own mind. He would find Thatch.

Ace turned back towards the house and began the trek back.

By the time he made it back to the house the moon was high in the sky. As he drew nearer he grew increasingly wary, instinctively feeling the need to escape this place. Wary of encountering anyone as he drew near the tree line, Ace swung up high into the branches of an oak, letting the mottled moonlight spatter over his mottled grey clothes and blend him into the leafy darkness. From his vantage point he could see the house without being seen, as well as the surrounding forest floor. For a few silent moments, all seemed still.

Approaching footsteps turned Ace's attention to his left.

He heard them before he saw them. What sounded like 4 sets of footsteps, approaching steadily, if not all that quickly. And…something else. Like they were dragging something. But who were they? Ace didn't know, but he was going to find out.

Ace's eyes fell softly shut and his breath fell into a slow, constant rhythm. Slowly, slow enough so as not to be detected, Ace extended his perception.

He'd always been…mediocre at sensory Haki, but Marco had been teaching him how to better employ it, and even if he was a shitty student, Marco was a great teacher. He'd gotten better over the last few months. Marco had taught him to extend his range of perception as well as how to pick up on others' presences without them detecting his own. He fought for the calm discipline Marco taught him to strive for. He needed to focus.

Slowly, painfully slowly with the noise of the approaching group, Ace allowed himself to become aware of his surroundings, and to embrace them. The tree he was sitting in wasn't a tree. It was an extension of hi spine, of his body. He was part of this forest. This forest was him. They were synonymous and inseparable. He was still, eternal, alive. He was wood, leaf, shadow, light, the raccoon under that bush, all of it, and all of it was him. There was no Ace. There was only forest.

Ace felt his own presence fade into the furthest corner of his mind.

Now, smothered as his consciousness was in shades of tree and shadow, Ace reached out towards the approaching group. Ace, at his best, could perceive someone within a 150-foot radius. Cloaked, that distance was halved. He actually felt it when the group stepped into his field of perception. He'd been wrong. There weren't 4. There were 6. The "thing" they were dragging was human and alive. The other formerly undetected person must just have been damn sneaky. Even as they continually drew nearer, Ace still couldn't hear their footsteps. Ace, careful to keep his consciousness cloaked, slowly opened his eyes. They were close enough to see now.

The dappled shadows cloaked everything but their general outlines until they reached the edge of the trees. Ace could see they were all men. Two were thin and tall, lanky. One, equally tall, though wrapped in such a voluminous coat that Ace couldn't discern anything else about his shape, was riding a wheezing, unhealthy-looking horse. The two others walking were both large, both in height and girth, one with almost comically large arms. The final person, the one they hauled behind them, was tied to the back of the horse and allowed to drag over the ground, into trees, rocks, and branches, seemingly paid no mind by the group. It was cruel, and from the barely-conscious state of the person's mind, Ace could tell they were in pain.

As they drew closer still, seemingly going to pass within 10 feet of the tree Ace was in, Ace began to hear snippets of their conversation.

"…gotten far. He hasn't left the island, that much is for certain." Ace thought it might have been one of the lanky men speaking, but couldn't be sure.

"We don't need him. We've already got one, why bother for the second?" This voice was gruff, low and callous. All in all, Ace doubted the owner was particularly intelligent.

"But we-" The voice cut off, interrupted by a horrific coughing fit. Tuberculosis? It sounded like the guy was practically hacking up a lung. Sounds serious. "we're still capable of getting him. And we should if we can. If he goes crying to daddy too early we-" more coughing. "we'd be in a more difficult position than I'd like."

"Doc Q is right. We've waited too long for this to waste our chance now. We're capable of bagging him, so why don't we? It can't do any harm, and it's not like the marines'll refuse two heads on a platter. But I don't think we should be heading back so early. If we don't find him soon, he's going to leave the island." The other lanky man. Whichever one hadn't spoken before.

"No. He won't." Ace's eyes widened. What? Is that…Teach? "Believe me, leaving hasn't even crossed his mind yet. So long as we have a certain choice bit of leverage, Ace isn't going anywhere." Ace continued to stare at the source of the voice, one of the heavier men, in shock. …What the hell's going on? They're talking about – looking for—me, and Teach is with them. I…didn't recognize any of the other voices. Who are they? What's their affiliation with Teach? What did that one mean about the marines?

They passed into the light and Ace understood.

The man being dragged by the horse was Thatch.

His face was bloody, sporting an obviously broken nose, bruises coloring his cheekbones and jaw. Ace could even trace the shape of a hand around his throat like he'd been strangled. Ace stared at him in shock and horror. He wanted to jump down there, he wanted to help his friend, he wanted to- to- to something! And why, why was Teach just standin-

Traitor.

He's a traitor.

Teach betrayed them.

Ace felt a swelling rage filling his torso. How dare that man claim to be part of Whitebeard's crew? How dare he have taken Whitebeard's mark? How dare he have posed as Ace's friend, Ace's brother? How dare he hurt Ace's best friend?! Ace fought to control his breathing and keep his presence cloaked.

Thatch, being dragged by the horse, gave a tiny groan of pain as the horse clipped him with one of its hooves as it stepped over a rock. Instantly one of the lanky men spun and kicked him viciously in the torso. A snapping sound ensued.

"What did we tell you about keeping quiet?!" He snarled at Ace's bruised and hurting friend. Ace nearly flew down from the tree in that moment, almost burned down the whole island in furious outrage. But for just an instant, as he watched Thatch roll away from the man, Thatch caught his eye. And in that instant, he gave a tiny, minute shake of his head. Ace stared at him with wide eyes.

Thatch had known he was there all along.

Why doesn't he ask for help? I can, I want to help him! Why doesn't he want me to? A thought occurred to Ace. ...Something's changed. Thatch wouldn't hesitate to ask for my help. Not unless I literally could not help.

…It's a trap.

It's a trap and they're using my best friend as bait.

Ace felt such a surge of hate and repulsion. These men, this vile group Teach was a part of, they disgusted Ace. Mutineers. Traitors. False friends. Cowards and cheaters and liars. Everything Ace hated about humanity all surmised in five men.

The lanky man spat on Thatch, and Ace felt a second surge of outrage and fury. Oh hell these bastards were going to die.

Ace would make sure of it.

The group continued towards the house, not stopping until they were near the back porch, the side of the house facing the woods. One of the lanky men, the one with the monocle, untied the rope binding Thatch to the horse. After a moment's stillness, he approached Thatch, who lay still on the dirt. He seized a fistful of his hair and dragged his head up, looking him in the face. He assessed Thatch with cold indifference for a moment. A slow, cold smile came to his face.

"This is really what a Whitebeard Division Commander is like? Pathetic." He threw Thatch to the ground, aiming so that his freshly broken ribs hit the protruding steps of the porch. Thatch gave an involuntary yell of pain and Ace felt everything in him surge to jump down there. But again he thought of Thatch's look. Of the determination, the surety he'd seen in his eyes. Thatch didn't want him going down there. Ace didn't know entirely why, but he had to trust his best friend's judgment. Ace fought to remain still, calm, focused. He couldn't reveal himself. Ace closed his eyes for a moment, refocusing himself. He opened his eyes again, feeling his heart break all over again, seeing Thatch bruised and bleeding on the ground, the four men around him laughing.

...

…Four.

The click of a pistol being cocked froze Ace's heart in his chest.

(A/N: YEAH. THAT'S HOW YOU WRITE A CLIFFHANGER, PEOPLE!

Sorry this chapter's so short! But I hope you enjoyed it anyways…? I know it's really, really short, but it's 1:24 in the morning, and I need to get some sleep! It was either publish this or make you wait another week. So yeah. Short chapter is short. But hopefully the next'll be longer.

Sooooo…yeah. Hope you enjoyed. Please drop a review, it'll really help me get going on the next chapter! Also, I'd like to hear if you think I'm writing any of the Blackbeard Pirates painfully OOC. I really don't know. I briefly skimmed their wikis, but I hate them all so much it was practically physically sickening for me. So yeah. If I'm getting something way way wrong, let me know and I'll try to fix it in the next chapter! Thanks guys!

Stuff'nStuff)