Chapter 10 (Tenth chapter time! I must make some damn fine shortbread cookies. Seriously, I got a ton of reviews from you guys for the last chapter. Thanks for all your support bros! I really appreciate all my reviewers, without you, this fic would probably not have made it this far.
AnnaBannana: Yes, Jericho is a major jerk. That's basically the summary of his character. Thank you! That's good to hear. I've been wondering for a while if I've been doing a good job of keeping everyone in character. THAT SUCKS! I don't care how old he is, ACE IS NOT A CRYBABY. Thank you! I really appreciate it. Yeah, chapter 9 was a little slower, but I'm glad the writing was up to par. I'll try! Hope you like the chapter! )
Marco rubbed at his eyes tiredly. It was late at night, everyone else asleep. Marco's cabin was silent but for the quiet scratchings of his pen. A quiet knock on the door startled Marco out of his reverie and he jumped.
"Come on in, it's open." The door opened with its usual quiet creak, and Marco turned to see Hare standing in the doorway. "Oh, Hare. Please, come inside and take a seat." Hare smiled, crossing the room to sit in an unoccupied chair.
"Thank you. You look tired, aren't you ever going to sleep?" Marco smiled wryly and gestured at the stack of papers.
"Not until all of this is done." Hare glanced at the stack.
"Don't you usually get more of it done during the day?" Marco ran a hand through his hair.
"Yeah. Usually I'm about twice as far as I am now. Today was kind of hectic though." Hare nodded.
"Even you need sleep though, Marco. Can't you leave some of it until morning?" Marco sighed.
"Yeah, I guess so. It just makes it harder for me to sleep knowing it's sitting there unfinished." Hare chuckled.
"A true workaholic." Marco turned to the stack of papers and seemed to consider them for a moment.
"You know what? Screw it. I'm just going to sleep." Marco stood, then paused. "I should probably go check on Ace to make sure he's doing alright before I head to bed." He said it quietly to himself, but Hare heard it anyway.
"Is he doing alright?" He smirked mentally. "He seemed a little…strained the last time I saw him." Marco smiled.
"Poor kid seemed kind of homesick this afternoon. Misses his little brother, I think." Hare's eyes sharpened with interest, but his face and voice remained calm, conversational.
"Little brother? You don't say. I never knew he had one." Marco nodded.
"Yeah. And boy is he protective of him. He cherishes Luffy more than anything." Luffy… Hare let the name roll around in his head. Why is that familiar?
"Where's this little brother now?"
"Still living in East Blue, I think. Fuushia Village or something like that." Ah yes. There it is. I remember now. Hare smiled. Thank you, Marco. You make this almost too easy.
"I can see how Ace could miss him if his little brother is that important to him." Marco stretched his shoulders.
"Well, I'm going to check on Ace." He started walking towards the door. "You know, you should really get some sleep too." Hare nodded politely and headed out into the hall, heading back towards his room. A smile formed on Hare's face. Oh Ace. You're such a good liar, but it's all for naught if your friends betray you so willingly.
Marco walked down the hall at a relaxed pace. He gave a massive yawn, eyelids even lower than usual, and turned to face the wall where the hidden door was. Groping around for a few moments, he found the switch and the wall slid open. When he first looked in the room, the first thing he noticed was the light. It was a full moon tonight, and the white light momentarily blinded Marco. After his eyes adjusted he looked around the room and was instantly awake. The window was wide open, cool night air pouring in from outside. And Ace's bed was empty.
Marco ran to the window and looked desperately behind the boat for some sign of the missing boy, but there was none. He quickly changed to his bird form and flew hastily out the window. No no no no no…Come on, Ace, aren't you smarter than this? He scanned the water, searching for any splash or movement that was out of place. There were none. Marco felt desperation and panic rising inside him in equal portions. He circled back to the ship, gaining altitude to maximize his range of visibility. His gaze wandered over the ship and froze. Oh thank God. Relief rose like a tide inside Marco, andhe circled lower and landed on deck. Sitting with his back to the port railing, knees pressed tightly against his chest and head bowed, was Ace.
When Marco landed Ace remained in his curled position. Marco approached him slowly, unsure. As Marco drew nearer, he noticed Ace was shivering, his entire body trembling lightly. Marco approached, reaching out with his right hand.
"Ace?" Ace's head jerked up, and he threw himself backwards, away from Marco. His eyes were wide and his breathing was shallow and uneven.
"Don't touch me!" Marco was shocked.
"Ace…" Ace's breathing remained shallow, almost like panting.
"Stay back!" Marco stopped where he was and slowly withdrew his hand. Marco looked into Ace's eyes and saw nothing but panic and fear. He doesn't even recognize me… Marco, moving slowly so as not to startle Ace, quietly sat where he was, facing towards him.
"Ace, calm down. There's nothing to be afraid of." Marco raised both his hands slowly so that Ace could see them clearly. "I'm not going to hurt you. I want to help you. Can you tell me what's wrong?" Ace shut his eyes tightly and a shudder passed down his spine. He remained that way for a moment, and when he reopened his eyes they seemed clearer.
"Marco." Ace's voice was choked. He shut his eyes again. He curled back up, arms wrapped around his legs pulling them close to his chest, forehead resting on his knees. Marco took this as acceptance and slowly moved over to sit next to Ace. He could feel Ace shuddering next to him. He slowly put his arm around Ace. At the contact Ace flinched, but didn't flee. Marco looked down at the boy in concern.
"Ace, what's the matter? Why are you so upset?" Ace's voice came out muffled and thready.
"Because I remember everything. I…I just…During the day it's not so bad, but at night? I can't-…There's no escaping, when I'm asleep." Marco's brows furrowed in confusion. Ace continued to speak haltingly, and what he said chilled Marco. "Something's breaking, Marco. Something really important. And I can't…I can't fix it…I don't know how…" Older Ace's voice echoed inside Marco's head. The same words. Marco pushed them aside for now, focusing instead on helping this Ace, this child before him who was so clearly hurting. Before Marco quite realized what he was doing he put his other arm under Ace's knees and lifted the boy, cradling him against his chest. Ace clung to him like a drowning man, and Marco did his best to comfort him.
"Shh, it's alright. You're safe. You're safe now, with us. We'll protect you." Marco didn't know how long he sat there with Ace, only that he'd be willing to sit there all night, if need be. His brother needed him right now, and he'd be damned if he'd just stand by while there was something, anything, he could do to help. Marco watched the stars spin, speaking quiet, comforting words to the frightened child. Eventually Ace's breathing evened out, growing slower and deeper. Marco looked down in surprise. Ace had fallen asleep. Marco smiled and moved as smoothly as he could, ignoring his stiffened joints, and carried Ace back inside the ship.
Glancing out a window, Marco realized it was nearly morning. Oh well. Who needs to sleep anyway? He looked down at the sleeping Ace, a small smile spreading on his face. This was more important. They had reached Ace's room, and Marco, as gently as he could, set Ace down on the bed, covering him with the blankets. He turned to leave and found Serpent sitting in the doorway. She looked Marco in the eyes, and with a softer voice than he had ever heard her use, spoke.
"Thank you." Marco blinked in surprise, then closed his eyes with a smile.
"Any time. He's family, after all."
Ace was a little late in coming to breakfast, but Thatch and Marco didn't protest. They sat together in companionable silence for a few minutes. Ace had brought some sheets of paper and a pen with him, and Thatch couldn't quite see what he was doing. Every few moments Ace's eyes would dart up from the page to closely study them before returning to his work.
"What's with the paper?" Marco asked after a few moments of Ace's working. Ace looked away. A slight blush colored his cheeks.
"I'm drawing." Thatch's eyes showed interest.
"Really? Let me see." Ace hesitantly handed him the paper and Thatch's eyes widened. Marco looked over his shoulder.
"This is actually quite good. How long have you been drawing?" On the paper was an accurate representation of both Thatch and Marco at breakfast. The drawing was incomplete, the details only just emerging, but Ace had somehow captured their personalities in just the one still shot. It's in the eyes. Thatch thought. In the picture Thatch's eyes showed mirth and a general joy of living, as if at any moment he could burst into laughter. Marco's eyes were steadier, calmer, but had an infinite depth of warm peace. In the picture Thatch was speaking, and judging by the mirth in his face he was saying something humorous. Marco's eyes were directed away from the point of capture, as if feigning disinterest, but based on the small tug at the edge of his mouth and the light in his eyes he was trying not to laugh. Ace's blush deepened.
"I've only been drawing for about two weeks. They said it'd be good for me-" Ace cut himself off, nearly biting his own tongue to keep himself from continuing. Marco looked up from the picture and back at Ace.
"Really? Why's that?" Ace's mind raced to come up with a lie. He faked a smile.
"I don't exactly have a ton of friends back home. My schoolteacher is under the false impression that I'm depressed. She thinks creative activities will help me become more outgoing, but it really won't. I'm not asocial, it's just the kids back home are all jerks or morons." Thatch laughed.
"Oh, Ace. There are adults who aren't on the same mental level as you." He handed the picture back. "But this really is very good. You should keep drawing. Make it a hobby or something." Ace's smile widened and he accepted the paper back, returning to drawing. After a moment, a thought struck Thatch.
"Have you done any other artwork while on the ship? I haven't seen you drawing, but…" Ace looked up at him. From the stack of paper he had brought with him that morning he drew out a different sheet. He studied it himself for a moment, then handed it to Thatch. This picture too was quite impressive. It was an image of Whitebeard. He was standing proudly in near profile, his naginata in his hand. His feet were planted firmly, his coat being blown back behind him by an unseen wind. His chest was exposed with its multitude of scars. Behind him was the Moby Dick's figurehead of the giant whale. It, too, proudly proclaimed its scars. The only difference between the drawing and the real ship was in this, Ace had portrayed it as a living whale. Looking closer, Thatch saw that the scars on the whale and Whitebeard weren't just similar, they were exactly the same. Thatch smiled. He liked this image. He studied Whitebeard's face closer. It held…a deep calm. A full acceptance only born of the wisdom gained from many years of life. He looked serene. Steadfast. As solid and tranquil as the great whale behind him. Thatch handed the picture back to Ace.
"That's wonderful. You really do an amazing job of capturing a person's personality when you draw them." Ace smiled and took back the drawing, tucking it away among the other sheets. He went back to drawing, smile still on his face. After a moment, though, he winced and moved the pen from his right hand to his left. Thatch noticed. He frowned.
"Is there something wrong with your hand?" Ace looked up, surprised. His mouth worked for a moment without producing sound. He finally said,
"I-I have a bad habit of holding a pen too tightly. My hand cramps after a while, so it's good for me to switch every now and then. I've taught myself to be mostly ambidextrous, so it's not too bad." Thatch opened his mouth to speak, but just then Hannah from 8th division came rushing up to their table and distracted him. She spoke to Marco, voice full of nearly childish outrage.
"Aniki! Leanne took my hair brush and won't give it back!" Leanne came running up behind her.
"I did not! It was mine in the first place! She was the one who took it from me! She said she was going to borrow it, but then she never gave it back! What was I supposed to do? I was just trying to reclaim what was rightfully mine!" Marco sighed.
"Ladies, please-" Hannah cut him off, rounding angrily on Leanne.
"Don't you try to lie to him! That hairbrush was mine! I bought it two islands ago!" The conversation devolved into an all-out argument between Hannah and Leanne with Marco trying desperately to get the conversation under control. After a few minutes of getting nowhere, Ace turned amusedly to Thatch
"You really are like a big family, huh?" Thatch grinned at Ace proudly.
"Yep. Whitebeard's our Oyaji, the commanders are sort of oni-san, and we all love each other like family. We aren't related by blood, but what does that matter? The only family that really means anything is the one that you see as your family." Ace looked at Thatch with surprise. He then turned to look out at the assembled crew, past the bickering crewmates-no, sisters. He saw the joy and love in each face and knew what Thatch had said was true. A small smile graced his face. Sabo would have loved this. He felt his heart constrict painfully.
"I think you have a beautiful family." Thatch looked at Ace with a warm smile.
"You could be a part of it too, you know." Ace looked up, shock on his face. He looked away.
"I…I don't think you want someone like me in your family." But Ace felt a warmth in his chest. Suddenly a small, cold voice in the back of his head thought, compared to this, what are you? Just garbage with bad blood. Unclean, unnecessary, and unwanted. Everything he had heard people say over the years echoed in his mind. Devil-spawn, monster. He looked at Thatch. The voice continued ruthlessly. He doesn't know. That's the only reason he's kind to you. Ace tried to shove away the voice. No. Thatch and Marco and Whitebeard and the rest care. Why else would Thatch invite me to be a part of them? The voice returned, speaking its bitter truths. Then why not tell them the truth, eh? If you are so confident in their compassion, why not tell them you're the son of Whitebeard's dead rival? We can see how long it takes for the weapons to come out.
Dinner that evening was an interesting affair. Ace didn't know how it happened, but somehow the entire crew found themselves involved in a massive arm-wrestling tournament. Ace chuckled and shook his head. The match currently going on was between Selma and Joshua. Most of the crew had formed a ring around the table to watch the match. Marco was to Ace's right and Thatch was a ways behind him. Ace had some paper and a clipboard and kept looking down at it, trying to capture the scene. Since Thatch's praise that morning he had been drawing almost constantly. His right hand hurt, but he didn't care. Selma won, and Ace smiled, redrawing a few lines so that it was clear to anyone seeing the picture what the outcome was going to be. He laughed, looking around and seeing all the myriad of emotions present in the crew. Triumph, joy, love, mirth, defeat. This crew is really something special. Ace smiled and went back to his drawing. He spent several minutes focusing solely on the drawing, getting the expressions right and shading.
When he finished, he flipped the sheet back and looked around for a new subject to draw. Selma and Joshua were arguing, Joshua claiming that Selma cheated, some of the pirates who had already been disqualified had started a drinking competition, Thatch had moved over nearer the kitchens and was currently shouting instructions over the general ruckus of the galley, and Whitebeard sat at the head of the room, laughing. His face was full of pure joy, the joy that came from making others happy and finding your own happiness in that. Ace smiled and looked down, beginning to draw. The smile stayed on his face as the image of Whitebeard laughing slowly emerged on the page. Ace was working hard on the expression, trying to capture not just the image of happiness, but the soul of it. This picture had a wider shot than most of Ace's drawings did, and in the background you could see the general goings-on of the crew. Present in all of their faces was a piece of that same joy, and one could almost see the close bond between everyone in the picture.
Ace looked up to look at his unknowing subjects, smile still on his face. The smile died. Ace felt black terror and blind panic overcome him. No…He took a step back. No…He's dead…I killed him…Ace dropped the clipboard. Across the circle of spectators, Edward Hare's face showed surprise. A slow grin spread across his face. Marco was looking down at Ace in concern.
"Ace? Ace, are you alright?" Ace didn't hear him. He took another step back. Marco reached down to touch his shoulder. Ace turned on him and threw his hand off.
"You're with him? All of you…" he turned back to Hare, fear nearly consuming him. "Oh god…" Hare was drawing closer, one calm step at a time. Ace stumbled back a few steps before turning and heading at a dead run for the door. Marco called after him.
"Ace!" Thatch, who was closer, tried to grab Ace's shoulder.
"Ace, what's wrong?" Ace tore his shoulder out of Thatch's grasp harshly and continued running. He made it to the door and threw himself through it, still moving as fast as he could. Marco stood frozen in shock. What just happened? Thatch approached him. He spoke in a dead serious voice.
"Marco. I don't know what got him so scared, but we have to find him soon." Marco looked at Thatch. By way of explanation, Thatch stuck out the hand that had grabbed Ace's shoulder. Marco looked down at it and his eyes widened.
"...Is it his?" Thatch gave a grim nod.
Thatch's hand was covered in blood.
(A/N: THE PLOT THICKENS AGAIN! I don't have anything of import to say down here…just to remind you all to review! Review or I'll sic Hare on you! ALSO! IMPORTANT! IN NO WAY SHAPE OR FORM WAS THE SCENE WITH ACE AND MARCO YAOI! SERIOUSLY, GUYS. IF ANY OF YOU HAVE SO MUCH AS AN INKLING OF A THOUGHT THAT THIS IS YAOI, THAT IS INCORRECT. Okay. Just thought I'd confirm that in your mind. K, I'm done talking now. ~Mountian97)