A/N: So I changed the title of this fic to 'Liston's Advice' and I thought I should explain it a bit since it is very, very obscure. Dr. Robert Liston was a Scottish doctor and a famous pioneer in surgical practices in the first half of the 19th century. He was known for the speed of his operations, especially amputations.

Also, I thought this was amusing- he managed to accidentally kill three people during a single operation. The patient died later from gangrene. His assistant also died from gangrene 'cause Liston accidentally chopped his fingers off because he got carried away. One of his spectators dropped from fright when the doctor missed him with a scalpel by inches. Crazy. Look him up, his bio is fascinating!

I apologize for the length of this chapter. I went a bit overboard. Don't forget to review!

Warnings: This chapter contains an extremely graphic description of amputation. Read at your own discretion. (Also contains mentions of self-harm.) It is rated M.

I have added an extra warning in the middle of the text- stop reading at that point if you cannot tolerate detailed descriptions of gore and violence.

Previously…

"You're being all cryptic again. What's the plan?"

Marco the Phoenix fixed him with that dark look once again, not breaking eye-contact. His drooping eyes bore into him (Stop looking at me like that, damn it!) and this time Ace was certain: he was searching for something.

"You're going to cut off my hands."

Chapter 2

"What?!"

"I told you: I can't do it myself because I won't be able to finish once I cut one of them off." Marco explained steadily, as if it was the most logical thing in the world.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Fire Fist exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "Are you craz—" He cut off mid-sentence as a thought dawned on him. "Oh I see! You're joking."

The first commander stared, deadpan.

"Hahahahahahaha! You almost got me there!" Ace laughed, still clutching the knife. "Good one! Poor taste, though. I never knew you had such a morbid sense of humor."

"Ace…" If he wasn't restrained, the pirate would have face-palmed.

"But seriously," Ace chuckled. "What's the plan?"

"Brat! I'm not joking. That is the plan," Marco scolded him sternly in annoyance. "Now stop goofing off and let me explain."

"What?" The younger man repeated incredulously.

"My devil fruit powers allow me to regenerate lost limbs. Once I get the cuffs off, I'll heal instantly and bust us out of here."

"No. No, you can't be serious. That is the stupidest plan I have ever heard. Cut of your hands? Are you insane?!" The second commander hissed, looking absolutely stricken. "You can't really expect me to—"

"I will regenerate so it doesn't matter." The Phoenix stated matter-of-a-fact.

"That's not the point! I don't want to—"

"You don't want to hurt me? Is that it?" the first division commander raised an eyebrow. "How many times have I kicked your ass? Have you ever once managed to hurt me?"

"That's different." Ace looked down, frowning. The blade felt heavy in his hands.

"Look; if you have a better plan to get us out of here, by all means, tell me."

"I—" the dark-haired teen wracked his brain trying to think of anything to get them out of this situation. Anything was better than mutilating his brother in arms. The thought of it terrified him. But despite his best efforts, he couldn't think of an alternative. There were no reinforcements coming. The two were alone on this island and they weren't due to check in with the crew for another couple of hours. Chances were that no one was aware of their capture. The pause seemed like it would stretch on indefinitely and Marco sighed.

"I figured as much. Now don't look at me like I don't know what I'm doing. What do you think the knife is for? I sure as hell don't need it for battle."

"You've done this before?!" Ace almost dropped the knife at the implications. The curved blade suddenly seemed cruel and sinister. He gaped at the commander in horror and the other stared blankly back, half of his face cast in shadows. The dark-haired teen let the notion sink in. The blond had a knife that he kept on him at all times, a knife that he only used on himself. He felt a little sick. "How many times?"

"My regenerative powers come in very useful when it comes to escaping from Marines. Why do you think I've never been seriously caught? You still have a lot to learn. If you have an advantage over your enemy, you take it." The older man explained softly, as if lecturing a small child. With how many times the two have fought battles back to back, it was often easy to forget how much more experience the first commander had under his belt.

He certainly didn't look ashamed at having just revealed such a terrifying little tidbit about himself, and somehow that was in itself unnerving. He simply looked bored like he always did. In fact, he looked like it was the most common fact of life you could think of; like cutting off your own hands was not out of the ordinary. Like it wasn't wrong or painful or disturbing. A gloom settled over the cell and suddenly the darkness felt oppressive.

"That's fucked up, man."

"Tch," Marco finally had the decency to look abashed. "Now, will you do it? Or will I have to order you to?"

This was serious. Marco never pulled rank on him unless it was in a dire situation. And as crazy as his plan seemed, Marco was right. The teen just had to trust that his brother wouldn't suggest such an extreme method if he didn't think there was a better solution.

"Fine, I'll do it. But if I accidentally kill you, Pops will murder me."

"What? Afraid you'll wuss out? I wouldn't ask you if I didn't think you could handle it," The Phoenix smirked, sensing victory.

'So that was what that look was for,' Ace thought. 'He was trying to decide whether I could actually go through with it.'

"I'm not the one getting his hands cut off!"

"Relax," Marco rolled his eyes. "I'll walk you through it."

The blond took to removing the light blue fabric draped around his waist. He awkwardly fumbled with the cloth before managing to untie and unwrap it. He offered it to Ace who accepted it, though slightly perplexed.

"We'll need it in a second," the Whitebeard commander explained and proceeded to instruct the younger pirate to tear the fabric into several strips. Restricted by the seastone cuffs, the task was slow going even with the knife but after a few minutes he had shredded the cloth into several uneven pieces. "We'll need some for tourniquets and some to stem the bleeding in the first hand while you work on the second."

Next, he instructed the second commander to tie a strip of the blue cloth around each of his arms right above the handcuffs.

"This will stem the bleeding. We don't have the proper tools to make a proper tourniquet, but this will have to do. Just make sure you tighten the knot as much as possible; the point is to constrict the blood vessels to prevent excess blood loss."

The first commander shifted his body so that his back was facing the other to give him better access to his hands. While he worked, Ace kept stealing glances at the man by his side. His nakama's calm demeanor worried him. As he tightened the fabric around the first wrist, the blond looked relatively relaxed and composed despite the morbidity of the situation. It was a chilling contrast to the younger pirate's nervous apprehension. Not to waste time, Marco began to instruct him on how to go about the rest of the procedure.

"The trick is speed. You have to be fast and precise in your cut. To do that, you will have to concentrate all of your strength into your movements. Don't hold back. The human body is remarkably resilient."

Ace nodded and tightened the tourniquet on the second arm. He leaned back once he finished.

"Good enough," Marco noted and continued with his explanation. He had Ace hold up his own hand since it was impossible to demonstrate with his own. "Do you see the boney nub on the outside of your wrist? You are going to aim right above it, perpendicular to the arm. Your cut should slice between the ulna and radius bones of the forearm and the carpels that make up the wrist. It may be tough to get the angle correctly, but this way you will not have to slice directly through bone with this flimsy knife."

"Okay. Between the bones. Got it," The phoenix's description seemed to make sense. Yet Ace didn't know whether he should be thankful for the commander's insight or disturbed that he was so knowledgeable on the subject. He really did sound like he's done this before…

"To make a clean cut, you will have to start by hooking the curved tip of the knife under the inside of the wrist. Then use the inside edge of the blade to cut through the muscle in a spiral motion upwards and toward yourself. Unfortunately, the wrist is full of tendons that control the movements of your fingers, so you will run into resistance. If you do it right, it will only take one slash."

Ace carefully listened to the instructions, committing them to memory.

"Remember: the most important part," The first commander's tone suddenly shifted from dispassionate to gravely serious and the other listened attentively, "is speed. Whatever happens, don't falter. Commit. The crucial moment will be after you cut the first hand. You need to finish with the second as soon as possible. Cover the wound with the cloth to stop some of the bleeding but do not delay. Keep going. The sooner you finish with the second hand, the sooner I will be able to regenerate. Before that happens, I will be in danger of bleeding to death. Do you understand?"

The younger pirate nodded. His instructions were easy enough to remember. It didn't seem that difficult, especially hearing the process described so clinically. Ace felt like all he needed to do was follow step by step.

"I may not be coherent enough to help you once you cut through the first hand, so I'll make this abundantly clear now. Whatever you do, don't falter. Follow through to the end," Marco repeated. "Got it?"

"Yes, I get it," the teen said, not a little impatiently. "Be fast. Don't hesitate. I got it."

"Good. Let's do this." Marco regarded him carefully for another second before lowering himself until he was laying on his side with his back to his nakama. He held his hands away from his body as far as it was comfortable and mentally prepared himself for the worse. He could explain the process to his brother as meticulously as humanly possible, and it wouldn't matter. The fact was that Fire Fist Ace has never done this before. Hell, even his attack style had nothing to do with bladed weapons. Suffice to say, the phoenix was not naïve enough to think that this was going to go off without a hitch. Still, he trusted Ace. He trusted him enough to put his life in his hands. They were going to bust out of here, together.

"Alright." The dark haired commander said confidently as his gaze shifted to the task before him. But as the blade grazed across the other's skin, the gravity of what he was about to do finally set it. His head snapped up.

"Shit. This is a bad idea."

'He's nervous,' Marco sighed. 'He's afraid. If he doesn't commit to this, it won't go well.'

"Don't worry," He said steadily, in the most reassuring voice he could muster. His eyes never waver and never broking contact from the teen's darker ones. "You are afraid because for you losing a hand is a life-altering injury that would cripple you. Because of my Mythical Zoan type devil fruit, for me losing a limb or two is no different from any other injury, like being cut or stabbed. I'm used to it now and it's not as bad as it looks. I've had worse. (Being shot in the gut with a seastone bullet was worse, much worse. He had sent that sniper to a special hell). In any case, the pain is temporary and never leaves any lasting effects; any normal man would suffer far more than I would. I have nothing to fear, and neither should you."

Ace froze. The commander's resigned nonchalance sent shivers down his back. Marco was not boasting. Nor was he lying. He was telling the absolute truth. It was cold and logical and left little room for argument. 'Marco has done this before,' a little voice in the back of his head rationalized. 'He understands what he's getting himself in to. If anything, I am the one disrespecting the commander by not trusting his judgment.'

"Everything will be fine as long as it's done quickly and without hesitation. But you are not one to half-ass something like this, so I'm not worried. Besides, you are strong. You won't have any trouble."

Manipulative bastard. The praise would have been better received if Ace didn't see completely through it. He growled in annoyance. It stood out as unusual since Marco didn't hand out compliments unless they were especially well-deserved. Usually it was 'Brat!' or 'Damn kid!' 'You're just saying that to make me feel more confident and not mess up, aren't you?' And yet, his words were comforting. Manipulation aside, there was something to them. The blond wouldn't ask this of Ace if he didn't believe that he could do it. All he had to do now was man up and follow through.

"I understand. Get ready," Fire Fist Ace whispered. He grasped the commander's hand and held it steady so that it lay palm-up on the stone floor. With his other hand he brought the tip of the blade under the wrist below the cuffs.

Suddenly Marco gave the teen's hand a reassuring squeeze before relaxing his hand. 'Don't be afraid. You can do this.' His brother squeezed back.

[Warning: From here to the end of the chapter is extremely graphic. Do not read if you cannot tolerate detailed descriptions of gore and violence.]

The second commander adjusted his grip on the knife and swiftly brought the blade upwards. 'Spiral cut, between the bones.' The skin split instantly as the razor-sharp knife dug into the flesh of the man's wrist. So did the immediate veins and arteries. There was barely any muscles to go through and the large tendons joining the hand with the forearm were tough and rubbery, but severed easily due to the sharpness of the blade.

But just as Ace thought that he had managed to carry the cut all the way through, the slash ground to a halt as the knife met more resistance than the pirate anticipated. He had misjudged the angle of the bones. With the knife still embedded half-way through the first division commander's wrist, a deep wound opened up splattering thick red blood on the floor.

"Shit!"

"Gah!" Marco cried out once in pain. He pulled sharply away out of pure reflex and almost tore his half-severed hand out of his brother's grasp. The jolt tore the muscles around the blade and violently opened up the laceration more. The blond yelped again and bit hard on his lip to keep from crying out again. He had to stay quiet to not attract the attention of the guards upstairs.

'Shit! Shitshitshitshitshit—' the teen swore frantically in his head, momentarily paralyzed.

The phoenix curled up, pressing his head against the cool surface of the floor, trying to ignore the agony in his hand. He could feel the open gash on his wrist leaking blood and his body shuddering from the sudden trauma. The tourniquet Ace applied did little to stem the bleeding. He had to grit his teeth to suppress the whine that threatened to tear from his mouth.

'I fucked up! Fuck!' Ace's eyes darted between his heavily-breathing nakama, the blood pooling across his hands, and the knife still buried between the bones.

"Ace…" Marco choked out through clenched teeth. 'Hurry up, Ace! Finish it!'

The younger Whitebeard pirate's eyes widened and he tightened his grip on the pommel of the knife. He drove the blade into the groove between the bones with all of his might, splitting the ligaments. Once he got passed the bones, the tendons and the musculature gave way easily. The blade swung through the rest of the wrist, showering the teen with a splash of warm blood.

As soon as he felt his hand be completely severed from his body, Marco jerked his shoulder back, sliding the cuffs from his hands without resistance and freeing himself from the unpleasant aura of the seastone. With one arm removed from the handcuffs, the commander rolled over onto his stomach and swung his other arm from behind his back to the ground at his side. He lay there panting and shivering, willing his brother to hurry the fuck up before he bled to death.

Ace flinched back at the sight. Vaguely, he realized that he still held his nakama's severed hand in his own. It was limp and unmoving in his grasp. He shuddered and dropped it pathetically onto the floor. Blood. There was so much blood.

'Shit!' Ace swore again and grabbed at what was left of the cloth from Marco's wrap. Running on autopilot, he inched closer to his prone comrade and started winding the fabric around his heavily bleeding arm. He felt dizzy. His mind was hazy and his eyes started to wander as he worked. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. The blue fabric was quickly stained red.

'This is wrong. Thisiswrongthisiswrongthisiswrongthisiswrong...' The thought coursed through his head like a mantra. This was all wrong. But it was passed the point of no return. That was breached the first time the blade clumsily sliced through the skin and the resilient sinews of muscle and tendon underneath.

'No, not the blade,' Ace gaped at the scene in front of his eyes. He had done this. He held the commander's hand (warm and strong and alive) and then he hacked it off like a butcher would to a pig (no, worse than a butcher. A butcher would never do that to his own family). He felt a part of his brother grow cold and die in his hands. And he was about to do it again. In a trance, the boy's gaze subconsciously wandered to the limp left hand that he discarded on the stone floor. The knife fell from his grasp as he lifted his arms to clutch his head in terror. The blood. Marco was losing so much blood and it was all his fau—

"What are you doing?!" A voice -a growl through gritted teeth- pierced through his foggy mind.

The teen's head snapped up to meet his commander's eyes- unblinking eyes full of fire and determination. His own eyes widened, mesmerized.

"Why are you hesitating?! Hurry!"

Ace's breath hitched in his throat. This was not just his fight. This was Marco's fight as well.

The older pirate was suffering far more than the younger was. Despite his bravado at the beginning, losing his hand hurt. The grimace on his face, the sweat on his brow and the flecks of blood on his lips (where he bit himself to keep from screaming) was evidence of that. And still he was fighting. Even through the pain and the blood and the horror, the Phoenix was pushing aside all his suffering to support him, to help him carry on.

The steadfast determination in those burning eyes shattered the boy's debilitating trance. Marco was determined to live and he trusted his nakama to help him do that. The first commander's iron will was the pillar of support he needed to keep going. Portgas D. Ace pushed his trepidation down as he pulled from his brother's overwhelming strength and grabbed the curving knife off the floor.

'If I don't do this, Marco dies. Focus! Where the arm bones meet the carpals…'

He gave his commander's second hand a reassuring squeeze before pressing the limb firmly to the ground, giving him better access to the site of the forthcoming incision. His hands were still shaking but his brother needed him to be strong and he sure as hell wasn't going to let him down. When he hooked the crook of the blade under his nakama's wrist right below the thick cuffs, his hands were as still as a surgeon's.

The raven-haired man was so focused on his task that he didn't notice the ghost of a smile grace the other's lips.

The cut is instantaneous. He pushed all thoughts of fear and anxiety out of his head and just acted, channeling all his strength and power into the force of the slash. The skin broke immediately, after which came the muscles and the arteries, torn apart by the pirate's spiral-motion strike. The bones broke apart last as Marco's right hand was severed from his body. The seastone cuff followed, falling with a clank to the hard stone floor.

A/N: I'm so, so, so sorry, Marco! I think I went a little overboard. I apologize for that. /Not!/

Please, please, please, please, please, please leave a little review (I accept anon reviews gladly!) and tell me your thoughts on this chapter! Especially the scene at the end! I want to know your reactions!

Loved it? Hated it? Want to kill me? Think I should be locked up? Let me know!