Well I just finished typing out chapter 8 and noticed there were quite a few more favs, follows and reviews than I expected so I decided to thank you all with the 2nd chapter! :D Seriously, your support is just so inspiring. I'll get chapter 3 up after I finish chapter 10 (this time for sure)! Anyways, this is the last intro chapter (and personally my favourite to write thus far) so next chapter will have the plot really starting up.

Disclaimer: Do not own One Piece - or much food, for that matter... I need to go grocery shopping before I run out of stale bread. But yeah, these characters are not mine sadly :(

The two sat side-by-side, staring hard at the doctor on the other side of the desk. He flipped through a few papers, stacked them then pushed them to the side, tangling his fingers together as he made eye contact. Giving them a half-hearted smile, he pulled a folder from the top drawer and opened it.

"The results were fine; he doesn't seem to have any brain damage."

The pair exhaled their worries away. After two days of waiting they finally had answers. The blow to the head Ace received during the accident was thought to be the cause of his amnesia, but they had to check to make sure that there wasn't further damage. If other areas of the brain were hit he could have lost more than his memories, like his learned abilities, writing skills and much more serious things that they preferred not to think of.

"Then…" Roger's voice trailed off. He wasn't one to beat around the bush but he wasn't sure how to phrase his question, either. While not very bothered by his son not remembering him, he was still a bit taken aback by it. It left him all but speechless.

The doctor's smile grew more sincere. "Ace will be fine."

"Will he remember?" Roush asked, voice lifted with newfound hope.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that."

Slow, lazy steps pattered against the linoleum floor. The hard, reflective surface stared back at the blonde walking across it when he faced downward, not bothering to take more than a quick glance at each of the room numbers he passed by. He knew the general area of his destination and, as such, didn't bother with keeping an eye out for it.

He got a call about a week ago. The frantic voice on the other line didn't make much sense, but he got the gist of what it tried to tell him: Ace was hurt. Since that day when he first arrived in the emergency waiting room to find out what happened he hadn't been to visit—wasn't one to worry and watch unconscious people sleep. Trusting that the youth's parents were perfectly capable of caring for him, he let them do just that.

It wasn't until yesterday when he got another—more positive—call stating that his bruised and battered associate was awake again. He would never admit it but that relieved some terrible worries he had. Despite his laid-back and calm demeanour he cared a lot for his friends and that meant that all week he couldn't get his mind off the poor, freckled boy in the hospital. He felt a lot lighter knowing that he was alright.

Turning the corner, he looked up from his reflection on the floor to begin scanning the numbers. He knew Thatch would be there soon and wanted to get a few words in with the patient beforehand. Oh, right—Thatch was the frantic voice on the phone last week. A natural prankster and constant annoyance, the redhead was also like a bother to him—and Ace, if he had to guess. That man was the one who got Ace to the hospital. From what he recalled, he was also one of the few people to visit the freckled victim during his first few days staying in that sterilized hell-hole but couldn't keep up the pace; he skipped work a few too many times.

After stopping on his heel, he looked to his right. There it was: Room 216. Glaring at the bold, black lettering above the door as though it was a set of prison bars, he inhaled deeply. Then he sighed. The hospital was no place for Ace; he had too much energy to be confined to a bed all day. He knew that as soon as he walked in there he would be bombarded with thousands of complaints from the youth as he dramatically flailed his arms around, trying to show what he could not put into words. There would be whining, there would be sulking and finally there would be a desperate plea from the boy as he begged to be taken away from the god-awful place. And he would have to decline.

Turning the handle, he casually flung the door open, lazy eyes looking at nothing in particular as he shuffled into the room and shut the slab of wood behind him. The sound it made was enough to rouse the patient who, at the time, was sitting in bed, staring out the window. His head snapped around to face the blonde and take him in.

What he expected was a loud, boisterous greeting followed immediately by complaints. That didn't happen. Instead he was met with narrowed eyes—a suspicious glare. Maybe the accident affected him more than he thought.

"Hey," he greeted with a lazy wave as he moved further into the room, coming to rest against the wall. He decidedly ignored the look he was given and passed it off as a possible side-effect to his medication or a result of the pain he was in.

The blonde took a moment to take in Ace's appearance. He wanted to see what damage was done that day. While his generously-bandaged torso and forehead left much to the imagination, he could see a hefty amount of damage otherwise. There were green bruises along his arms, no doubt mostly healed. Still some were purple and brown, pushing the fact that even after a week they remained strong. He must have been hit pretty hard, then. The discoloured skin around his mouth wasn't very pleasant to look at—nor were the bags under his eyes.

"You look like hell yoi," he noted lazily in an attempt to strike up a conversation with the boy. Maybe if he got him talking he'd get back to his usual, loud self. Then there was the problem of disturbing the other patients if he did… Well, at least he had a private room.

His only response was that same wary gaze.

His eyebrow twitched. That look was a bit irritating. It didn't show on his face, though. As moments passed and the look did not fade from the other's face, his annoyance quelled and morphed to concern. Ace was never like that. "Something wrong?" he asked, shifting his stance and crossing his arms as he leaned back against the wall.

Finally Ace broke eye contact to stare at his sheets. Still, though, he said not a word.

"Oi, Ace? What is it?"

The freckled man's face softened from its cold look into something more natural. And then he looked nervous. He—Portgas D. Ace—looked uneasy. To see an expression like that on such a cocky person's face made the blonde tense. Something was seriously wrong, wasn't it?

"Do I… know you?"

The blonde's eyes widened slightly from their usual lidded appearance, mouth ajar. He unfolded his arms and stood upright, suddenly at full attention. "You—"

"Ace!" came a cheery voice as the door to the room flung open, revealing a smiling man with a pompadour hairstyle. He wasted no time in rushing to the bed, dropping a gift bag onto the boy's lap and slinging an arm around his shoulders. "How you feelin' buddy?"

The patient looked completely dumbstruck, eyes wide as they took in the item on his lap and the overly-friendly adult next to him. He continued to stare at the present, unsure of what to make of anything.

The blonde bit his lip. You have the worst damn timing in the world, Thatch.

Thatch continued to smile and didn't bother to wait for an answer to his question. "It's great to see you awake again! Last time I was here you looked like a zombie," he paused, "except, well, not dead." The room fell silent again and when he saw the other wasn't going to give a response he continued, leaning close to the younger's ear. His voice was a low whisper. "Hey, you see any hot nurses around? Because you know I—"

"Thatch," growled a voice from off in the corner.

The man lifted his head to see a rather irate blonde watching him with lidded eyes. "Oh, Marco! Didn't see you there," he noted as he removed his arm from the patient's shoulders. His friend's eyes narrowed further and he pouted. "I was just joking about the nurse, you know."

Ignoring the more flamboyant of the two, Marco gazed at Ace, giving him a more neutral look. "What did you ask yoi?"

Ace seemed to snap out of whatever stupor he was in to face the older blonde.

Thatch looked between them incredulously, wondering what he missed before entering the room. It didn't seem right and for a moment he wondered if they were keeping something from him.

Shoulders tense, the freckled boy prepared to speak. "I was wondering… if I knew you."

Thatch's eyes shot wide open and he spun to face his injured friend in disbelief.

The blonde's shoulders slumped back into a more relaxed position. Thought so. "You do," he replied simply, no sort of shock or panic showing on his face, much unlike his redheaded associate.

Ace seemed to relax at that and the doubtful, cautious look fully removed itself from his features. "Oh," he said, having just as little reaction as Marco. "…I thought I might."

Thatch's head spun back and forth between the two, wondering why they were so calm. He certainly wasn't. "W-wait! Ace, you…" He swallowed.

"You don't remember yoi?" Marco finished for him.

Ace shook his head.

"Forgot everything?"

He nodded weakly.

Marco exhaled and closed his eyes as he thought that over in his head, not giving much of a reaction. "Alright," he said casually as he continued mauling it over. He knew something like that—as outlandish and cliché as it was—was a possibility when he heard he received a head injury. While it was surprising, it wasn't something he hadn't thought about. He was the type to prepare for the worst, after all, and it could have been much worse than that.

Ace looked a bit surprised when he heard that. He likely received dramatic, over-the-top reactions when he told people before then. Marco wasn't the type to dwell on minor hindrances like that. Besides, he didn't want to add to the boy's stress; he forgot everything and everyone he met was a stranger, all reacting horribly to the news. He wouldn't contribute to that.

"So…" the patient began, giving the two in the room his attention, "who are you?"

Thatch's face sagged into a frown. His lip quivered and before long he jumped on the boy, squeezing him tightly in the most over-dramatic hug he could muster. "My poor little Acey!"

Marco rolled his eyes.

The redhead pulled away to place his hands on both of Ace's shoulders, staring him in the eyes. "Don't worry; you're big brothers will take care of you," he stated with a grin.

At that point Ace stopped trying to rationalize the redhead's actions and didn't react to him, instead focusing on what he said. "…Brothers?"

"Ignore him," Marco commanded, shooting Thatch a dull glare. He didn't want the poor boy any more confused than he already was. "Just think of us as 'friends' yoi. We're here if you need anything." He decided to keep it simple, seeing as it was probably quite a bit to take in.

Ace gave him a reluctant nod before turning back to the man who was a little too touchy-feely.

"I'm Thatch," he said with a huge grin, contrasting his earlier worry. He let go of the boy to point his thumb over his shoulder. "The pineapple over there is Marco."

The patient blinked. "Pineapple?"

Thatch's grin spread even wider. "You don't see it?"

His eyes scrolled to the top of the blonde's head and the slightest indication of a smile appeared in his face. "I see it."

Marco closed his eyes a second time, eyebrow twitching as his face turned a hint of pink. He wouldn't say anything. Under any other circumstances they would be dead but because his friend looked so lost he decided to forgo any violence—for the time, at least.

The two stood out in the hall outside room 216, glancing through the tiny window at the sleeping figure on the bed. It had only been an hour since they arrived but Ace started getting tired so they decided to let him rest. His recovery was more important, after all.

Their visit was spent not trying to make Ace remember, but just getting him to loosen up. He was nervous around them—naturally—and while his memories were important they both resigned themselves to the knowledge that regaining them may never happen. It was more important to get him comfortable with them, and even more important to just get him to worry less. How unnerving was it to have so many strangers around him, bombarding him with 'remember this?' questions?

Thatch scratched his head absently as he looked through the tiny, little window into his friend's room. "He's really…"

"Different?" Marco asked.

"Yeah," he began. "I mean I know why, but…" His voice faded and he shrugged the thought away. "I'll get used to him!"

Marco fell back against the wall, tired eyes focused on a spot on the floor. "It could be worse."

Thatch smiled. "True. On the bright side, at least he's forgotten about that kid."

The blonde's eyes narrowed as he contemplated that. "I wonder how good that really is."

A/N: So how was it? Good? Bad? I had to spend a lot of time before writing this chapter to decide how best to have Marco react. To me he doesn't seem the type to focus much on stuff like that. I've always sort of seen him as that reliable older brother figure so I think he'd take the news most rationally. What are your thoughts? :)

To my lovelies~

samettikettu: Hehe I love amnesia stories - both writing and reading them. So fun~ Honestly, the description makes it sound better than it is :P

Jellyfish-Chu: I love Rouge and Roger. They're great. They won't be in the beginning of the story much (sadly) but after chapter 13-15 they'll be more important figures and will show up more :) Well I hope you enjoyed!

azab: There will be :) But not in the beginning. You'll see why later, but they'll be in it a lot starting around chapter 13-15. Here's an update!

TheRoseJr: Yep, it'll be pretty long :) Not as long as Divide or Resolve but probably around the same length Imagined Life will be.

buslimpan: Good! ^^ Well... he met Marco XD And Thatch. Hope their reactions were to your liking! I couldn't see Marco being dramatic, but I hope it was still enjoyable!

TooLazyToLogin/RedKetchup: Hope you enjoy the fast update~

RenwolfChan: Lol I have no choice?

siqwithaQ: People seem to like it (for some unfathomable reason) so I will! :D Yeah, I noticed that too. Personally I love amnesia stories. I swear I could come up with like 800 different plots for amnesia fics XD I hope you're right and that I can make this turn out nicely! Yep, that's all planned out, no worries! Hehe don't worry, you'll find out about their relationship soon enough~ Did you picture Marco's reaction like this or something totally different? There will be some look at old memorabilia (though some of it will be, let's say... unconventional) so your request is noted! Very happy you like it - I'll continue so long as you guys enjoy reading it :)

Obitez: I will ^^

Red-The-Drawing-Ninja: Hope you're right! Here it is :D

Diclonious57: Yep!

teengens: Hehe well I hope you enjoy!

spoons-are-evil: Yeah, Rouge and Roger just don't get enough love :/ Roger and Ace have/had an... interesting relationship XD But you'll have to wait before I reveal it. Like, a while. But I'm sure you're patient enough! Nope, not the One Piece setting. It's a modern AU :)

Kitsune Foxfire: Clichés for the win! But seriously, there are so many parts later on in this that are eye-roll worthy...

Honeydee: Lol I think that's a bit of an overreaction considering it was just the first chapter XD It's actually tagged as Luffy, ACE and Marco but the fanfiction site only shows two of the selections :/ Marco's in it a lot (more than Rouge and Roger in what I have done so far) so I thought he should be included in the tags.

Kuro Neko Kaizoku: Very happy to hear that you liked it ^^

key46812: I will!

(And that's all for tonight lovelies. Please leave a review if you have anything to say about the chapter, good or bad! I'm going to go searching for dinner and then I'm going to work on my other new story that I have yet to put - it only has 4 chapters written out so I'd like to catch up to this fic with it. Until next time! Adieu~)