Chapter 29: (A/N: K guys, this is IMPORTANT. So a lot of you reviewed the last chapter (thanks for that, btws. I love you all!), and based on a lack of response to a certain fact/detail in those responses, it has come to my attention that you either didn't understand or forgot about something VERY IMPORTANT. It would seem, dear readers, that at least some of you have forgotten about THE PLOT LINE. It's understandable. The detail was a bit ambiguous and we've kinda been on a secondary plot for the last 9 chapters or so, but at least some of you have come to forget about what's going on OUTSIDE the memories. Hare and Ace's past is a sub-plot of the LARGER PLOT LINE. Now elements of the LARGER PLOT LINE are going to become important to the story in about 2-3 chapters, so that gives you plenty of time to REGROUP YOUR KNOWLEDGE of what's going on. Best way to do this? Rereading. Specifically (if you don't feel like rereading the whole story, which I do highly recommend. There's still lots of foreshadowing out there people!) chapters 10-14 include IMPORTANT FACTS about the LARGER PLOT LINE that you will WANT TO KNOW before we hit chapter 31 or thereabouts. I WOULD HIGHLY RECOMMEND REREADING AT LEAST THOSE CHAPTERS BEFORE MARCO, WHITEBEARD, AND THATCH GO INTO WONDERLAND.

Oh, and I owe an apology to any review I didn't reply to. Sorry guys! You all deserve a much more diligent review replier than I am. I'VE FAILED YOU. TTnTT *SOB*

Big thanks (like, big big) goes to Kitsune Firefox and LordofCamels for helping me out with this chapter! It was much appreciated, guys, thanks for all your wonderful advice!

Sorry the chapter's late…I've never really written angst like this before, so it was a new experience for me and I had a lot of reworking to do before I got it the way I wanted it. That, and I procrastinated like a pro. Sorry. I just didn't feel like staying up until 3 AM every morning of my 5 day weekend. So sue me. And I got so fat over thanksgiving dinner that I'm about to go into a food coma for the next 13 hours and then my brain will be too full of carbohydrates to function for the next 2 days. Yeah. Fun times. Anyways, the chapter's here now and I hope you like it. :)

Anonymous Review Replies:

Ashes of Sky: Thank you very much! I'm glad you're enjoying it, and I'm glad you like my writing style! :') Hahahahaha I'd love to hear you babble. Feel free to leave as many reviews as you like (I'm kind of a review addict XD). I cannot answer that question. Doing so would be a spoiler. That's a guess. I can neither confirm nor deny whether or not you are correct. That she is. But it will be explained. …Probably in the next chapter. Now whatever made you think that? ;) You mean the Wonderland in my story or Wonderland in general? Wonderland in general comes from Lewis Carol's book, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (or whatever the title really is). My Wonderland comes from a combination of that book, Alice Madness Returns, and my own crazy, backwards mind. XD

E: Glad you're still around :) I hope it doesn't get too creepy for you… (yes it does get creepy again in a few chapters.)

HMP: You mean when Ace was being chased/attacked by Rabbit, Queen, and Jabberwocky? Yeah they probably could have been useful there, if they'd actually been there. Thank you! It's hard to tell when I get into too much detail and just bore you all to tears. XD Yay! Ace is saved! Huzzah!

Panda Bear: Hahahaha I love Rouge. She's a boss. Frying pans FTW. The chapter was seriously a freaking NOVEL. I mean, HOLY CRAP. If only it were that easy to write my research paper…

Semi-Important Stuff:

Oh, and I used facts from yahoo answers again. Just deal with it. Who needs accurate medical information anyways? Except the stuff about anesthesia. Most of that came from a medical website and what didn't came from my common sense but I don't know anything about medicine, sooooooooooo...yeah. But it's not like you're going to self-medicate based on a fan fiction, right? RIGHT? *looks at you suspiciously*

The FIRST PART of this chapter has been rated T-well…not going to lie, this part's pushing more into the M spectrum for VIOLENCE, DISTURBING IMAGERY, and a RAPE MENTION. After that it's K+ for IMPLIED VIOLENCE.

Running. Green, the occasional flash of red, but most of all black. Lots of black. The entire world was a void of darkness, save the path he was currently running down.

Ace was panting hard, breath coming more in ragged gasps than anything else. He glanced over his shoulder, looking for his pursuer. The corridor of hedges behind him appeared empty and ran straight, seemingly endless.

Ace's breath burned in his chest and he felt his panic rising. He looked about wildly, searching for whatever it was that he knew was chasing him. The fear seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere and Ace knew nothing except run.

The hedges of the Queen's maze were whipping past him, but no matter how far he ran the corridor never branched out into others or made any kind of turn, just continuing straight seemingly forever. Ace's lungs felt like they were on fire, but he knew he could not stop, knew something was behind him and to stop would mean…something. Something terrible. Ace turned to look over his shoulder again.

He could see nothing behind him, but the terror still raced firm and unyielding in his mind and he would not stop running. Turning back to face forwards, he only had just enough time to skid to a stop before careening off the edge of a sheer cliff.

It was like someone had just drawn a line and cut the world away. Before him the blackness of the void stretched on forever and ever, wanting to swallow him up into that eternity of dark. Ace stood, panting, staring out into that void.

There was nowhere else to run.

Ace turned slowly around, fear so acute he was nearly choking on it. His heart hammered erratically in his chest, physically hurting from exertion and terror. His breathing was ragged, coming in gasps that never filled his lungs with enough air. It was like he had been trying to run in a cloud of wood smoke. The air here burned his lungs and smelled like raw meat and rotting fruit.

There was a massive hand behind him, the skin pale and the fingernails long and neglected. It was a left hand. An iron nail had been driven through the joint of each finger, and on the back of the hand a massive patch of skin was missing, the edge of the injury ragged and uneven as if it had been torn off. The muscles underneath tensed and flexed with the movements of the hand, and the injury wasn't bleeding.

The hand was getting closer and Ace had nowhere to run.

It was reaching towards him, seemingly meaning to grab him. It was big enough to do it on its own, the pointer finger being about two and a half times as long as Ace was tall. It was carefully blocking the entirety of the hedged corridor, and Ace knew he wouldn't be able to slip past it.

His terror only continued to grow as the hand got ever closer. When it was within grabbing distance it stopped and began reaching for Ace. He knew he should run, knew he should do something, anything to get away, but he couldn't.

Ace couldn't move.

He was frozen in place, unable to run or fight back, helplessly watching as the hand slowly grabbed him, picking him up between thumb and forefinger like an interesting insect.

And then Ace saw the master of the hand.

Edward Hare looked different. And not just because he was enormous, the hand in proportion with the rest of his body. He looked dead. Looked like he had been dead for months. The skin of his chest was mostly gone, like it had been ripped away. His sternum had been broken and his ribs stuck out in all directions away from each other, looking like nothing so much as a spider. His lungs had been pulled away from each other as well, leaning against the splayed ribs.

Beneath, in the center of Hare's chest cavity, Ace could see Hare's heart. Or at least…where the heart of a human would have been. It wasn't so with Hare. Hanging in the place of his heart was an apple. The fruit was shriveled, rotting, and Ace could see the bulges of maggots moving around beneath its skin. It wafted the sickening sweet scent of decaying fruit across the air, the scent forcing itself up Ace's nose and into his brain.

Hare's head was simply gone.

His body was seated in a chair up against a wall, and the wall behind Hare where his head should have been was as smooth and even as the other walls, save the splat of Hare's brains, the bits of skull, and the blood. It was like someone had smashed a melon against the wall. The object that had flattened Hare's head was still there, seemingly embedded in the wall and hiding what was left of Hare's head, the skin and other less-splattable bits still trapped beneath it.

It was a gramophone.

It was still intact and was the only thing of any real color in the room, the brass of the horn shining in the ambiguous light. The body was bright and well polished, and looked like it was made out of high quality wood that had been stained to a glowing warm brown. There was a record resting neatly on the turntable, and the polished black wax of the disk was shiny. The stylus was poised to play, already resting in the first groove of the record. The gramophone was in perfect condition and didn't seem to have taken any damage from the impact that smashed Hare's head. It didn't even appear to have any blood or bone on it. Hare's other hand was on the crank of the gramophone, gripping the handle like he meant to turn it to make the device play.

Ace was held in front of it, eyes wide, horrified at the grisly scene. He still could not move, could not struggle, couldn't even make himself look away. The sight made him sick and if he'd had anything in his stomach Ace had no doubt he would have thrown up.

Hare's right hand began cranking the gramophone.

No sound came out at first, just the small scratchy noises associated with wax records. After about 15 seconds of silence, Ace began to hear another noise. It was quiet, barely audible, but in the near complete silence of the room Ace could make it out.

Breathing.

It was slow and even, like the breathing of someone who's sleeping. There was the faint scuffling of movement, like the person who was recording the sound was moving around. When they settled down again, the breathing sound was louder, like the sound-capturer was closer.

"I can see you sleeping." The voice was directly to Ace's right and it scared him out of his skin. Ace automatically tried to jump away, but could not because of the grip of the hand. Ace twisted his neck to try to look for whoever spoke, but could find no one. The noise of the slow breathing continued from the gramophone, but Ace knew the voice hadn't come from there.

"Pussycat, pussycat wherever have you been?

Did you go to Wonderland to visit with the Queen?

Pussycat, pussycat what did you do there?

You ran, the little bitch you are. You should have just stayed there." A voice sung out of the gramophone, sounding hollow and dead. After it finished, the near silence resumed, save for the quiet breathing. Several moments passed of the breathing, Ace tense and anxious. The gramophone didn't speak again, and there was no sound in the room save the breathing recorded on the record and the quiet scratchy noises of the wax disk. A low chuckle sounded from directly to Ace's right again and he again automatically flinched, heart leaping in his chest.

"You think you got away, don't you?" Another laugh. "That's funny, Ace. And here you were so pessimistic, saying your naïveté was gone." The different voice on the record started up again, jolting Ace again.

"Pussycat, pussycat, when did you get so blind?

You should have known your sanity would be hardest find.

Pussycat, Pussycat, you think that you got free?

There is no free for pussycats, and caged you'll always be."

The voice to Ace's right drew closer to Ace's ear, becoming a mere whisper. Ace felt the hot breath on his skin and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He was frozen in place again, unable to pull away. His heart at this point felt like it was crawling up his throat, choking him with his own fear. When it spoke, the voice was barely a whisper and the voice's breath was hot on Ace's ear and neck.

"You haven't gotten away from anything, Ace, and you never will. You can't run away from me anymore, remember?" Ace felt again the pain of his legs breaking as the memory forced itself through his mind but he was unable to scream, his lips sealed. Tears bit at his eyes behind clenched eyelids. The pain had only barely begun to subside when the voice whispered into his ear again.

"You'll never get away, Ace. Never." Ace felt again the arching pain of the 45 lashes on the first day of his imprisonment, felt his skin splitting beneath the whip's length. "It won't matter how far you run or however many times you or your friends may 'kill' me, you'll never get away." The acid burned his shoulder, tracing down the letters that had been carved into his flesh. 'Edward Hare.' "It won't matter who your allies are or what protection you may think you have. You'll never be able to truly escape." Ace felt his fingers snapping individually, one after the other.

"There will never be freedom from memory. The seeds of terror, once sewn, can never be unmade." Ace wanted to whimper, wanted to sob, wanted to break as again he felt a hand trail slowly down his back, felt fingers tangled through his hair, felt the pain of being torn in two. Again he felt that complete desolation, that complete worthlessness, felt that utter disgust and all-consuming self-loathing. A tear slid slowly down his face from his left eye. It flowed the wrong way, though, trailing over his temple and into his hair like he was horizontal, not vertical. A tiny noise made it up his throat as well; too small to be a whimper but too fragile to be anything else. The voice continued over the memories, complementing them, enhancing them. "Nothing will ever save you. There is no way out of hell." Ace was forced to watch that which he'd never seen before as Sabo's face was separated painstakingly from muscle and bone. Ace's imagination colored in the grisly details and his memories provided the screams of pain, the cries for help, home, and salvation that would never be answered. Sabo was bleeding more than should be possible, the blood never stopping even after the screams did, slowly filling the room and Ace was drowning, sinking in that red sea of guilt and loneliness and heart-shattering grief. He ran out of air and inhaled a lungful of that red death tasting the iron tang of blood and he knew he was going to die and he deserved to die and he wanted to die, oh God please just let me die! Darkness closed slowly over Ace's red-filled vision. The low laugh echoed in his ear one last time as Ace sunk in this darkness. Ace no longer felt like he was drowning, but rather that there was something about his throat, a noose tied around his neck, condemning and binding him.

"You haven't gotten away from anything, Ace."

The noose tightened.

Ace sat bolt upright in the bed, a ragged scream tearing itself out of his throat. He was drenched in sweat and his breathing was fast and uneven. He stared straight ahead, chest heaving, eyes wide. He was shaking, shoulders, hands, his whole body trembling. He tried to force his breathing to slow, taking in great gulps of air, his wildly hammering heart practically bruising his ribs. Distantly he heard the door open, but didn't turn to look until Shanks sat on the edge of the bed, looking at him with worry bordering on fear in his face.

"Ace! What's wrong? What's the matter?" Shanks gently grabbed Ace's shoulders and Ace automatically shied away from the contact, head snapping to the left to look at Shanks. His eyes were wide, terrified, so scared he didn't even recognize Shanks or where he was. Shanks slowly lowered his hands, trying not to show the heartbreak at Ace's fear of him. Just what did that bastard do to him to make him this scared? Shanks spoke gently, trying to calm Ace. "It's okay, Ace. You're safe. You're free. Nobody's going to hurt you anymore." Ace swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut, clearly making an effort to calm down. A shudder passed down his spine. He brought up his hands and pressed his palms against the sides of his head, pressing down on his skull, trying to push out the images of his nightmare and hold in his flagging sanity all at once. His breathing gradually became more even, but his trembling refused to subside.

Shanks watched him gently. He wanted to reach out and hold Ace, but he didn't want to make Ace even more scared and based on his earlier reaction, physical contact wasn't the best way to support Ace right now. After another moment of silence, Shanks opened his mouth.

"Bad dream?" Ace nodded mutely, eyes still closed, hands still pressed against his scalp. Shanks swallowed. "I've heard talking about it can help." Truthfully, Shanks was scared of what Ace would say. His imagination had painted a grisly scene based on Ace's injuries, but to hear about what had actually happened while he took too long to get there would be more painful by far. The fingers of Ace's left hand dug into his scalp, his ruined right hand remaining still as he tried not to aggravate the broken fingers. Ace shook his head. He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to even think about it. Most of all, though, he didn't want Shanks to see how close he was to breaking. Didn't want Shanks to see how completely gone the boy Shanks once called friend was. Didn't want him to have to see the ugly monster of pain and depravity, this miserable, disgusting wretch that Ace had become. But his mouth got ahead of him, his subconscious unable to hold back the flood.

"I'm…I can't…" Ace shuddered again. Memories replayed themselves before his eyes. Ace redoubled the pressure on his skull, trying to push them back. He swallowed thickly. "I can hear them laughing. I can feel the whip. I can taste Sabo's blood in my mouth..." Ace shook his head violently. "Make it stop! I don't want to see it again!" Another shudder passed down his spine, and he bowed over, curling into a near fetal position as he clutched at his head. "Make them stop looking at me like that. Make them stop hurting me like this! If they're all dead, why do I feel their hands, why do I see the darkness in each face, why do I not feel human anymore?" Ace lay there, shuddering, breathing ragged and uneven.

Shanks was staring at him with wide eyes. He had no clue what the hell he was supposed to do now. He wanted to help and comfort Ace, but he was so far beyond out of his depth he hadn't the faintest idea how to go about doing that. "Ace…" Shanks reached out slowly and gently placed his hand on Ace's shoulder. Ace flinched away at first, but didn't completely retreat. Shanks' voice was soft. He didn't know what he was supposed to say, but he was going to do his damndest to make sure Ace wasn't scared anymore. "Ace, you're not a prisoner anymore. Nobody's ever going to hurt you like that ever again. What happened to you…it'll never completely go away, but I know you and I know you're stronger than it. You overcame everything they threw at you, you survived, and now you're even stronger. Scars never completely go away, but they stop hurting after a while, right? You're free, safe now and no matter what I will never let anyone hurt you like that again." Ace snorted.

"Free? Safe? No, Shanks. I'm not." He gave a humorless, bitter laugh. "I haven't gotten away from anything. There's a noose around my neck and I don't know what's going to kill me first, the fear, the noose, or the suspense of waiting to finally die."

"Ace-"

"First it was the memories and the knowledge that I had to protect Luffy that kept me going. Then, giving Sabo the home that he deserved. When he died, so did that. Hope went next. Built up and then dashed out. Memory followed shortly after, right after God died. And now? Now sanity is leaving me too. Then what? What will I have left to cling to, when that finally leaves me for good? Noth-"

"Me." Shanks cut Ace off, looking at him seriously. "You'll always, always have me. And Luffy. I don't know what you think you've lost, but I know that you're not the type to just roll over and give up." Ace flinched minutely at Shanks' word choice, but Shanks didn't notice. "I'm going to be here to support you as long as you need me to until you can support yourself. You're strong, Ace. Stronger than any of those marines knew and you will make it through this." Ace was looking Shanks in the eye now, and Shanks could tell he was fighting not to cry. Shanks, moving slowly, wrapped Ace in a gentle hug. Ace momentarily panicked, his mind automatically responding to the pain it had been taught was coming, and hated, hated, hated himself for that fear. After a few moments of terror, Ace shut his eyes and buried his face in Shanks' shoulder, shame burning through him. He was still terrified. He couldn't help it. He was scared of Shanks.

"I'm pathetic. You've been, you're being so kind to me and every time you so much as look at me I flinch." A sob tried to force its way up Ace's throat, but he wouldn't allow it to escape. I hate it! I hate this! I'm scared of even Shanks and I can't make myself stop! What's wrong with me that I'm scared of even him, the one that saved me, that's been my friend for years?"I…I don't want to be broken, Shanks. I just…I just wish this had never happened. I wish…" Ace knew he sounded childish but he couldn't help it. "I just want to go home." Shanks shushed him gently, reaching one hand up from behind Ace's back to softly stroke the back of Ace's head comfortingly. Again Ace had the instinct to shy away and he tensed at first and, again, hated himself for it.

After several quiet moments, Shanks released him and leaned back, smiling at him gently. "You're going to be okay, Ace. Everything's going to be okay." Ace set his jaw and nodded firmly. He forced a smile, the expression feeling foreign and strange. Shanks seemed relieved to see it on his face, though, so Ace left that mask on.

Ricky had been standing unobtrusively in the doorway, trying not to intrude. When Shanks pulled back, he approached. He pushed his glasses a little further up his nose and came to stand beside Ace. For half a moment Ricky saw blind terror in his eyes as he came between Ace and the rest of the room. Ricky, realizing his mistake, sidestepped silently to the side, giving Ace what could have been an escape route. Even though Ace couldn't run with the shape his legs were in, Ricky understood that cornering Ace in any way, shape, or form would be frightening to him to say the least. Ricky could tell Ace had a lot of subconscious triggers for fear right now. Thus far he had seen Ace's wild aversion to physical contact, general paranoia, and, now, Ace's need to always have a way out. All of these were perfectly explainable, given what had happened to him, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt to see their friend like this. Ricky did his best to smile reassuringly at Ace.

"You're going to get better now, Ace. Once we reset the bones in your legs it'll only be about 7 weeks before they're completely healed. Your fingers will take less time, only about 4 weeks. We're going to have you completely better again in no time."

"How soon until I can walk?" Ricky blinked and considered the question.

"Minimum? About…3 weeks. It'll hurt if you try to walk that soon, but you'll be able to do it. It'd be better for you to stay immobilized as much as possible, though." Ace nodded absently. Ricky took a deep breath. This was the hard part.

"I'm going to have to give you a lot of stitches, Ace. And setting the bones will be painful. I'm going to put you under anesthesia for the procedure, but when you wake up it'll still probably hurt quite a bit." Ace's head snapped to the side, eyes focused solely on Ricky. His eyes were wide and he looked scared again.

"Don't put me under. Please." Ricky stared at Ace in shock for a moment.

"Ace, I'm going to be resetting the major bones in your legs. That alone will be almost as if not more painful than the original break was. You want to be unconscious for something like that." Ace shook his head.

"No. No I don't."

"Why not?"

"Well…I've lost a lot of blood, it wouldn't necessarily be safe for you to put me under, right?" Ace hoped they wouldn't see through the lie. In truth, Ace's subconscious was far, far worse than any pain this could bring. His memories hurt him more, and if he was in forced unconsciousness for that long…he would dream. He would remember. He couldn't tell them that, though. He didn't want them to see just how far gone he was. He had already made up his mind. There were things he simply wasn't ever going to tell Ricky, Shanks, anyone about. It would be better to simply put all of this behind him and never talk, never even think about it again. Ace had seen the pain it brought to Shanks and then Ricky, his weakness, his current fragility, and had resolved to shut that away. His pain was his alone; he wouldn't allow it to hurt others. He could wear a mask; cover that part of him that was simply gone with fake smiles and convenient lies. He could tell Shanks and the others already felt terrible enough about the condition he was in, why make it worse? They, Shanks especially, didn't need to know the details. Didn't need to know he was raped. Didn't need to know that something in him had died in that cage. Didn't need to know how terrified Ace still was, of Shanks, of the crew, of the freedom he thought, somehow knew was only fleeting.

Ricky was torn. Ace did have a point, but with the reduced dosage he had planned on giving Ace the risk was minimal to the point of being obsolete. All the same, though, if he had made a miscalculation Ace could die. Ricky didn't want that responsibility, but he didn't want Ace to suffer any more than he already had. Ricky bit his lip. He looked to Shanks, seeking guidance. Shanks was looking back evenly. The choice was his. He was the doctor, he knew best. Ricky took a deep breath.

"…Okay. I'll be using regional anesthesia, but it'll still hurt, probably. I'll have on me a dosage of general anesthesia and if at any point during the procedure you change your mind I will use it, okay?" Ace nodded. Ricky turned to look to Shanks. "I'm sorry, Captain, but you should probably leave."

Shanks nodded and stood. He walked to the door, looking over his shoulder and smiling at Ace one last time before closing it. Ace fake-smiled back at him as the door swung shut. Ricky turned back to Ace.

"I'll occasionally ask you what level of pain you're at from 1-10. If you ever get above a six I'll use the general anesthesia, okay? I don't want to hurt you, Ace." Ace forced a smile.

"You won't." His eyes darkened. "If there's one thing I've gained it's pain tolerance." Ricky sighed, then nodded. He walked across the infirmary to a series of cabinets against one wall. He rummaged through them for several moments, then returned to Ace's side. He pulled over a small table and lay what he would need on it. He watched Ace's face as he set the items on the table. Suture needle and thread. Heavy bandages. Diluted rubbing alcohol. Syringe. None of these particularly frightened Ace. It was only the last items that caught his eye.

A hammer and a wide, blunt chisel.

Ricky saw how Ace's eyes were focused on the hammer and chisel. He took a deep breath.

"I gave you a quick physical examination while you were asleep. The bones in your legs have already begun recalcifying and they're doing it wrong. I have to rebreak them if you're ever going to walk again." Ace swallowed the fear that had begun to rise in his throat and nodded. Ricky, sensing Ace's growing fright, kneeled down so he could meet his eyes evenly. "Are you absolutely certain you don't want me to knock you out?" Ace met his eyes and nodded again. He was scared, yes. Instinctively terrified. Something about this room, its cold, sterile nature, reminded him of his cage. Ace wouldn't admit to that, though. Wouldn't say any of it out loud.

Especially not how much Ricky terrified him.

Ace hated himself for that fear, couldn't believe how completely irrational and unjustified his terror was, but he could not deny that it was there. And, no matter how much he reasoned, rationalized, or generally beat wildly against it he could not make it stop. Ricky carried himself with the same professional precision Edward Hare had. Every move he made was intentional, especially when it came to his movements around Ace. I'm just his patient. He's moving around me like a doctor, like his profession tells him to. The same is true of Edward Hare, I guess. In some sick, twisted way I suppose I was his patient too.

"Ace, would you prefer I started with your legs or did that later?" Ricky was looking anxious, like he wasn't quite sure what to do with Ace being awake. With any kind of surgery or procedure this big he'd always knocked out his patients before. He'd reset, even rebroken bones before, but never on a child, and never on a conscious, terrified child. Ace took a deep breath, forcibly shoving his fear away long enough to glue on another mask, this one a calm, collected, and cool face made of steel, unyielding and inexpressive. His voice was calm, his eyes firm.

"Fix my legs first." Ricky nodded, looking concernedly into Ace's eyes. He stood from his crouched position by Ace's side and turned to the table. He hesitated for a moment, then took up the syringe of regional anesthesia and turned back to Ace. Ace looked away as Ricky injected him with the drug. It worked fast, Ace could already feel sensation fading from his leg. Ricky turned back to the table, placed the syringe back on it, then took up the hammer and chisel. He looked almost queasy and Ace could practically feel the tension radiating off of him in waves. He took a deep breath, seemingly to calm his nerves or at least force them down for the time being. He placed the end of the chisel against the harsh bend in Ace's right leg, angling it a bit. As the cool metal touched his skin, Ace's heartbeat reached a record pace. He was terrified because it was going to be just like it was with Hare, the same break, the same agonizing pain, the same helplessness and inability to fight back or run away. His mind was racing, begging him to push Ricky away, to drag himself across the floor if need be, anything to escape this because Ricky must be just like Hare, Ricky must be intentionally hurting him, Ricky must be planning to further maim, injure, murder him, even. Ace pushed hard with his right thumb against his broken index finger, trying to use the pain to shove back these thoughts that he couldn't believe he was actually thinking. Ace hated the part of him that whispered these things, the part of him that wanted to curl up in the corner and cower, begging not to be found while screaming that all friends wear masks and all masks have nothing beneath them.

Ace felt like a traitor.

He allowed none of his inner turmoil to show on his face, his mask didn't have expressions, after all, and steel doesn't bend. Ricky, after positioning the chisel, looked up and met Ace's eyes again. Ace nodded evenly, taking a deep breath.

"Countdown." Ricky nodded.

"Three." Ace took in a deep breath and turned his head so he was looking at the ceiling.

"Two." Ace exhaled slowly, allowing his eyes to close gently. He began editing his mask, only altering its stoic expression slightly. He removed the mouth, leaving just a smooth steel face between nose and chin.

Ace would not, could not scream.

"One."

(A/N: …Nothing really happened in this chapter, huh? …Sorry…I feel kinda weird, to be honest, for cutting this chapter here. It's just…yeah. There was nowhere else to cut it. And I think this update has already taken long enough, don't you? And word-wise it's of about average length. It's 5500 words or so. It's not short but I don't feel like there was any plot progression…oh well. Next chapter will be sufficiently more interesting/exciting/plot-oriented. This chapter was more about giving you an insight into Ace's mental/emotional state right now anyways. Next chapter will have some legitimate interesting action. And angst. The angst is here to stay for a while longer, so let me know if I suck at writing angst or not. To be honest I've never actually written anything even remotely similar to angst, so if I suck I need to know. And if you do think I suck, could you please tell me WHY I suck and HOW TO FIX IT? That'd be MUCH appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this…kinda weird, semi-pointless chapter… Oh well. I'm a derp. See you next time! ~Mountain97)