Chapter 39: (Welcome back! Glad to see you all enjoyed the last update! I hope this one is equally fulfilling! :D

Anonymous reviews:

Rio: Thanks! Well…according to this timeline, Luffy isn't a pirate yet, and Ace never told him about Wonderland or what happened to him during his imprisonment. Yup! Marco's fate'll be in this chapter!

Panda Bear: Thanks! Sorry if the update seemed a bit slow! Hahaha glad the suspense is that intense!

HMP: Hahahaha well…you may want to get some kind of hat, because I've still got a few more plot twists up my sleeve. :) Well…you'll find out in this chapter. ;)

FinlandiaWolf94: Hahahaha yup, I most certainly do! Please keep leaving them! XD There are kind of a lot…are there any in particular that you feel are unnecessary? As for new additions, pretty much everyone has been introduced by now. And I guess it's just part of the complexity of the story, that there are so many characters…sorry, it's just this idea has been in my head so long it's hard to remember that others don't have everything as cemented in their brains as I do. If you feel it's becoming more of a problem, I'll be sure to try to do something about it! Thank you! (I'm a HUGE fan of riddles. Couldn't help including some! C:) Oh goodie! I'll be sure to try to aim for that kind of horror again. It's hard to get right, but I'm sure I can get better with practice! :D Nice to get some straight answers for once, huh? But it begs the question, if everybody's been explained, who's Mr. Savage? ;) Thank you! I'm so glad to hear that! :'D Every time I write Whitebeard I feel like I'm doing something horribly wrong. TnT but I'm glad you don't find that to be true! And I'm glad everyone else seems IC too! :D Hahahaha thanks! Cliffhangers are always so much fun to write because people seem to write more reviews…and they're always freaking out. XD AND ONLY I KNOW WHAT'S IN STORE! MUAHAHAHAHAHA- *cough* Hahahaha everybody's freaking out about our favorite birdie blue-breast. You'll see him again in this chapter. Though not necessarily in the way you expect… ;) You're welcome! Glad you enjoyed it! (No don't apologize! I love hearing from you! :D) Thank you!

Guest (chapter 8): (It's always so exciting when a new reader shows up. I love reading your reviews as the story progresses as you find out what's really going on! :D) Hahaha yes, poor Thatch. But he was supposed to look after Ace… and the stone'll be talked about a little more later (actually probably in this chapter). Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it!

Guest (chapter 12): Serpent does know everything. But there's a reason for that. ;) I'm glad you like her! :D

Oh, little bonus opportunity: I usually listen to fitting music while writing a chapter. This time it was Ghirahim's Theme from The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword. So, if you'd like to have some background music while you read, go here: listenonrepeat (period) com (slash)watch(slash)?v=qcs5vyOS1Lg (just replace the assorted words with their indicated punctuation and take out spaces. I REALLY hope the site doesn't eat the link this time…)

This chapter has been rated T for LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE, and (hopefully) CREEPINESS.

Alright, and now that that's taken care of, ON WITH THE CHAPTER!)

Thatch was left staring at Hatter in shock for the second time within an hour. "What?" He truly couldn't comprehend. He must have misheard Hatter. There was just no way that this…hell could really be his friend's mind. "…You're lying." Hatter laughed coldly.

"Ah, but I can't. If you were at all competent you could have figured that out by now." He tilted his head slightly to the side, smiling frigidly, eyes hard. "Whatsamatter, don't like the truth?" Thatch shook his head, taking a stunned step back. Ace…Ace was happy. …Wasn't he? He laughed and talked and acted perfectly normal. There was no way all of it could be concealing this. All those smiles, all those jokes, all that joy and companionship, could that really come from someone whose mind looked like this? Thatch couldn't believe it. But he couldn't find evidence to deny it either.

"H-How?" he stuttered. "When Ace got shrunk, all his memories were repressed…wouldn't that have repressed you too?"

"That little magic rock didn't seem to know what to do with us. Ace got shrunk, but we didn't. Not that it matters. When Ace left us to rot after that oh-so-touching moment on the cliff, everything went to hell. He threw us away, but he didn't toss out his fear. With his homemade coping mechanism gone, Ace slowly became consumed by paranoia. It was a good thing Shanks stuck around for a while, because not three weeks after he got home, Ace had a little psychotic break. Tried to kill himself. Again. They took him back on the ship for another two weeks. It was a miracle they didn't decide to strap him in a straightjacket, the shape he was in. Ricky got him on antidepressants, though to be honest they didn't really help. Ace only pulled it together because Luffy snuck on the ship one day. We all had to pull hard to get Mr. Savage away long enough for him to act normal enough not to scare Luffy." Hatter shook his head. "You think you've seen violence? You think you've seen bloodshed? You wouldn't believe the horror of that day, all of us against Mr. Savage, Ace fighting so hard to be a big brother to Luffy. We almost lost. We almost lost everything. It was only because Mr. Savage made a mistake that we were able to win at all."

"And that would be?"

"He told Ace to kill Luffy. Strangle him. Break his neck. Brain him against the floor. Anything." Hatter closed his eyes, shaking his head. "And for half an instant Ace almost did it too. But Ace, down to his very core, is a guardian. Mr. Savage managed to smash himself against the one thing in Ace that would never change. Ace regained some power of Mr. Savage that day, and it's only because of that that he's still alive today. Over the next ten years, Ace made another two attempts on his own life. The only reason he was unsuccessful is because of sheer luck and serious struggling on my and the Black Widow's part." Hatter looked between Whitebeard and Thatch.

"And then he met you." Hatter shook his head, wry smile coming to his face. "He's tried so hard to pull his shit together since he met you guys. But it's too late. It was too late since the moment he set foot on Hare's ship. That man left scars that will never fade. Altered Ace's whole psyche. There's no 'getting better' from the psychological damage Hare wrought. So he smiles and laughs as well as he can, all the while hiding the festering sore that is his soul. And you should be glad Ace's masks are so unshakable now, because you have yet to see the real horror of Wonderland." Hatter chuckled softly. "But you will. You will. Because you were stupid enough to let Ace see Hare again, and vice versa. So the masks are all going to fall off sooner or later."

"…What do you mean?" Whitebeard asked guardedly. Hatter took a breath, and seemed to chew on his tongue a moment before speaking.

"Some of Hare's crew got away, you know. Bailed on lifeboats before Shanks got there. Including, but not limited to, eight of the men that came to Ace's cell with Hare. Ace made it a little personal goal to track them all down. We're down to three. Dare you ask what happened to the other five?" Hatter was smiling coldly. "I mean, yes you can obviously deduce that we killed them, but…well. You would have seen the story in the news, if there'd been anyone left alive to explain it to a reporter." Hatter snorted and shook his head. "Mr. Savage…that fool. He likes to think that when all of Ace's masks fall away, his face is the one underneath them all."

"He's wrong?" Hatter turned his gaze to Whitebeard.

"Dead wrong. And even now, he fails to understand what's so painfully clear." Hatter cocked his head, regarding them. "A lot like you in that way."

"And what is it that he's missing?" Hatter seemed to consider them for a moment before a slow smile crawled onto his face. He inhaled-

Boom.

The crystal chandelier tinkled minutely as the whole room shook. Hatter's brows furrowed and he turned, facing the opposite end of the room, the direction of the noise.

"The hell?" Thatch asked. "You expecting any more guests?"

"No. You were the only ones I had planned on seeing today." Hatter said, still facing the direction of the noise.

"Wait, you were expecting us?" Hatter cast a sidelong glance at Thatch and smirked.

"Of course. Mr. Savage told me you were coming. He also recommended the trap for birdie blue-breast." Hatter's smile widened. "He was right, too. You're much easier to pick off when you're alone."

Boom.

The room shook with more force this time, the chandelier jingling like church bells. The sound was louder too, closer.

Boom.

Faster this time, and closer again. The teakettle rattled on the table, and March Hare's head rolled off, falling to the floor with a crunchy splat.

BOOM.

The wall in front of them broke as if struck by a massive blow, rubble and dust clouding the air. Thatch and Whitebeard shielded their heads and eyes against any incoming rubble but Hatter didn't. He didn't even flinch when he took a bowling ball sized piece of rock to the head, the force of the blow bending his head far past where it should naturally stop. He merely absently reached back and snapped it back in place, waiting for whatever was coming through the wall. The dust began to settle.

"You son of a bitch. Do you have ANY idea how long it took me to find my way back here?!" Whitebeard and Thatch's eyes widened at the voice and they straightened instantly, searching for its source.

Their surprise wasn't anything compared to Hatter's.

He stood stock still, eyes wide. Any color had drained from his face, and his mouth hung slack. "What?" he said breathlessly. "No, that's not possible." He took a step back. "You can't. You can't be. You're dead. I tore you apart."

"Well, knock knock motherfucker." Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Angry blue eyes.

"No. No human could have survived how much blood you lost. It's- no. You can't be here." Hatter was staring at the silhouette with wide eyes. The dust settled.

Marco stepped fully into the room.

Hatter stared at him, appalled. His breathing was shallow and fast. "You can't be here. You're dead. You have to be dead. I don't understand-" Hatter's eyes widened at his own words and he cocked his head to the side. "…I don't understand." He repeated quietly. A moment of silence passed.

Hatter threw his head back and screamed.

The puppet wires jumped to life, jerking back up to the ceiling. Hatter was lifted off his feet, still clutching his head and shrieking like a banshee. The wire connected to his spine jerked once and he went still. He dropped back to the floor, the clack of wood replacing the expected thud of flesh.

"Marco! Are you alright?" Thatch sprinted over to Marco, looking him up and down for any injuries. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "…You're not even hurt." Marco clapped him on the shoulder and smiled.

"I'll explain everything later, but right now I think we've got other problems." He nodded in the direction of Hatter.

The wires were moving again.

His left arm was lifted first, his torso hanging from it limply. His right arm came up next, lifting Hatter to eye level. The wires danced and Hatter was left standing oddly, perfectly straight. His head snapped up, huge eyes and wide, carved, painted smile filling his face. He turned to Marco.

"…I'll have to make up a new verse now, birdie blue-breast. But that can wait." Hatter's speech was strange in this form, as his mouth didn't move. The tinny, inorganic sound seemed to simply go, emanating from his chest like a speaker. He turned back towards the table. "I suppose we'll have to start this game from the beginning again." He bent mechanically at the waist, reaching out and righting the teakettle and cups. Marco started to take a step towards Hatter.

Hatter, without even turning, lashed out with his right arm. The wire attached snapped out like a whip, wrapping around Marco's throat and lifting him off the ground. Hatter's head did a slow 180 and he stared at Marco.

"It's not your turn yet, birdie blue-breast." His voice was cold. He threw his arm to the side, the length of the wire magnifying the force and sending Marco hurtling through the air. Hatter released him, letting him sail through the air and into the wall. Marco crumpled briefly at its base before struggling to rise, wincing.

"Marco!" Whitebeard moved to take a step towards Marco.

"It's not your turn either!" Hatter shrieked. He cocked his head to the side until it was completely inverted. "It's got to play by the rules or else we will all go mad!" Hatter laughed like this was the best joke he'd ever heard. Whitebeard remained where he was, though, unwilling to provoke the dead Hatter.

"Hatter, listen to me." Hatter had turned away and began humming, resetting the tea party. He didn't pause at Whitebeard's voice, gave no indication that he had heard. "Mr. Savage doesn't have any power over you. You don't have to do what he says." Here Hatter did pause. He straightened again, top hat sitting skewed on his head.

"Of course not. Mr. Savage doesn't have power over anything." Hatter laughed again. "And boy does that PISS HIM OFF." He resumed his earlier motions, this time picking up the doily and wringing it out, trying to squeeze his own blood out of the stained linen.

"What? Aren't you proof enough that Mr. Savage does have power?" Thatch asked. Hatter continued moving, but did deign to answer.

"Well sure Mr. Savage can fuck this place up as much as he wants, but then you've got to realize: none of this is real. Fucking up nothing is fucking up nothing is nothing." Hatter laughed again. "See? He's done nothing. And only the powerless do nothing. That's why he so desperately wants to be his own, why he so wants to truly control Ace. Because then he would prove that he had power." Marco was standing by this point and Hatter turned to him.

"You're strange. I don't like you. You frighten me. I fear what I don't understand." His voice abruptly turned happy again. "So it's time for you to unlive now, okay?"

Hatter slid-dragged across the floor towards Marco at blinding speed. Marco braced, ready to dodge or retaliate, but Hatter was cut short as Whitebeard's fist connected squarely with his torso. The force sent Hatter flying back into a wall, smacking into it a good 15 feet above the ground. He remained there, still.

Whitebeard turned to Marco. "You alright, son?" Marco nodded.

"Yeah." He sighed, dropping his head for a moment. "Look, I know you both are curious about how I'm uninjured and why Hatter was so freaked out to see me…well, alive. It's-"

Hatter's laughter cut him off.

He was tapping one finger rhythmically against the wall he was partially embedded in. "So it wants to play too?" Hatter moved impossibly fast, seeming to almost teleport behind Whitebeard, smiling face right beside Whitebeard's ear. "That can be arranged." He whispered.

Marco's eyes couldn't track the speed of the blow as Hatter, mimicking the blow Whitebeard had dealt him earlier but faster, sent Whitebeard flying back into the mantle of the fireplace. Whitebeard collided with a grunt, but Hatter had already turned away, looking to Marco.

"Birdie blue-breast, would you prefer to be a pie or a roast?" He asked the question with all seriousness, then laughed. He was by Marco's side in an instant and Marco tried to dodge but was unable to evade Hatter's hand as he grabbed Marco by the throat and slammed him back into the wall. Marco gasped at the blow, but was unable to inhale as Hatter's grip around his throat tightened. Hatter stared at Marco for a moment, then cocked his head to the side, looking almost curious. "Oh my! Well well well. Seems someone pissed off the Cat, huh?" Hatter laughed. "Well isn't that just perfect! He'll be happy to hear you're gone. Maybe he'll come by to join me eating you!" Hatter shook his head. "You really don't know how to pick your fights, huh?" Marco lashed out, kicking Hatter in the side with all the force his oxygen-deprived muscles could muster.

Hatter, being made of wood, was actually fairly lightweight. The blow was enough to send him flying, but his grip about Marco's throat didn't loosen, so when the force of Marco's kick knocked him away Marco went with him, crashing into the floor. Hatter stood again, raising Marco with him. He held Marco off the ground with one hand. He raised the other, leveling it with Marco's stomach, fingertips barely touching his skin.

"If it bleeds you can kill it, right birdie blue-breast?" Hatter asked. He drove his fingers forward slowly, yet entirely unyieldingly. His fingers pierced Marco's flesh, beginning to drive deeper inside him. Marco cried out in pain at Hatter's slow impalement.

Thatch tore the leg off one of the chairs with a wooden snap. He took the splintered piece and smacked it into Hatter's face with all the strength he had, swinging it almost like a baseball bat. This time he didn't go flying, didn't even jar in the direction of the blow, and the wooden chair leg snapped against Hatter as if he were made of lead. Hatter's head spun twice from the force of the blow, but snapped to a stop facing Thatch. The blow had actually split his face, the wood of his head sporting a dent. The cracks ran all across his face, one going across his eye to disappear under his hat, another running down over his carved smile, others spreading like spider webs across his whole head. Hatter laughed. "Oh ouch!" He exclaimed.

And then he opened his mouth.

It was enormous, the ends of it behind his ears, far exceeding his painted red lips. He had no tongue or throat.

Screws took the place of teeth.

They ran all along the edge of the opening of his mouth, some bright, some corroded, all wicked. Hatter' neck extended in one brutal lunge and his jaws snapped shut. If Thatch hadn't moved, Hatter would have latched onto his throat. As it was, Hatter's 'teeth' tore through Thatch's shoulder, his jaws continuing to drive shut with all the strength and dispassion of a machine.
Thatch felt the grate as Hatter's 'teeth' connected with his shoulder blade and collarbone, but he knew that mere bone wouldn't be enough to hold back Hatter. He could feel each cruel edge along each screw and cried out as Hatter twisted his head sharply, almost doglike, further shredding Thatch's shoulder.

Holding Thatch in place with his mouth and Marco with one hand, he withdrew his hand from Marco stomach, reaching towards the table. He groped around on its surface blindly, seemingly searching for something.

The teapot.

When his hand found it, he picked it up by the handle and smashed it against the table. It shattered, leaving Hatter holding a shard of glass. A seriously sharp shard of glass.

Hatter swung it at Thatch's exposed throat, and it was only because of damn fast reflexes that Thatch was able to catch Hatter's wrist with his one functional arm. Thatch grunted in effort, straining with all his might to hold back Hatter's arm. The best he could do was slow it down. The shard of glass made slow progress towards Thatch's neck.

Hatter cried out and released Marco, his arm falling limp. The wire that had previously been attached to that arm fell to the floor and writhed like a lizard's detached tail. Marco fell to the floor, gasping and coughing. Hatter drew away with a screech, but opted to take Thatch with him, 'teeth' still lodged in Thatch's shoulder and shard of glass still aimed at his throat.

Whitebeard wasn't about to stop there, though.

"Let my son go, you bastard!" He roared. His weapon of choice? Another shard from the teapot. The material cut his hand, its edges wickedly sharp, but hell if that mattered. He was no longer sure it was glass, seeing as it had been able to cut through wire, but he didn't care about that either. Hatter, in a desperation to dodge the shard, released Thatch, his 'teeth' emerging from his skin with a fleshy tear. Thatch cried out again, the screws wreaking still more damage as they emerged from his shoulder, and fell to the ground, clutching at the heavily bleeding injury.

Hatter and Whitebeard regarded each other dispassionately. One of Hatter's arms hung limp, the wire supporting it having been severed. Contrarily, Whitebeard seemed to be favoring one leg, and the shard of the teapot had already cut deeply into his hand. Hatter seemed to grin at Whitebeard, Thatch's blood dripping from his 'teeth'.

"Thirteen times five is sixty-five." Whitebeard said coldly. Hatter shrieked and lashed out, flinging the wire attached to his functional arm at Whitebeard in an attempt to silence him. Whitebeard sidestepped and slashed, severing this wire as well. Hatter screeched in fury and pain.

"Forty-two minus sixteen is twenty-six." This time, it was Marco who spoke. He stood shakily, blood still streaming from the stab wound to his stomach. He placed a hand over the injury and briefly closed his eyes, a look of deep concentration coming to his face. He remained like this for a moment, then removed his hand, opening his eyes.

The injury was gone.

Whitebeard and Thatch stared at him in wonder.

Hatter, now partially immobilized, still attempted an attack, kicking at Marco and sending the wire careening towards him. Marco sidestepped and continued walking towards Hatter calmly. Hatter tried to back up, but soon reached the wall. Marco continued forward.

Hatter lashed out at him again and again, but each time, Marco sidestepped. When Marco finally reached him, Hatter, in a last-ditch effort, lunged at him like he had Thatch. Marco let the blow land, leaning his head away to spare his neck, Hatter's jaws closing around his shoulder. He grit his teeth to keep from crying out, and raised his other hand, moving it towards Hatter's head. Hatter, in response, tightened his jaws on Marco's shoulder and Marco felt the bone crack. That elicited a gasp of pain from him, but he didn't stop. Marco placed his hand on Hatter's head, closing his eyes, shutting out his pain, and concentrating.

And Hatter morphed back.

He instantly collapsed at Marco's feet, gasping and trying to scramble back, but Marco had him pinned against the wall. Both of Hatter's arms were obviously broken, bent and useless, and he cried out when one accidentally collided with the floor. "What did you do to me?!" Hatter looked utterly terrified of Marco. "That's not possible! It doesn't make sense! You can't do that!" Marco paid Hatter no mind for a moment, instead placing a hand over his bleeding shoulder, closing his eyes, and healing it the way he had the injury on his stomach. Hatter stared at him like he'd grown a second head, and tried again to scramble back, only managing to further press himself against the wall. Marco crouched by Hatter and grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket.

"I can do whatever I want." He whispered, deadly. "And I'm sick of you and that damn Cat telling me how pathetic I am, how inhuman I am."

He stood, bringing Hatter with him, and slammed him against the wall. Hatter yelped and flinched, turning his face away, cowering. Marco growled, pushing him further into the wall, and Hatter whimpered, flicking his gaze up to Marco, eyes shining with terror.

"What. Is. Cheshire?" Marco asked, voice commanding and frigid.

"Marco-" Marco glared briefly over his shoulder at Thatch.

"Shut up. I'm done with secrets, and I'm done with Hatter. I'm getting a straight answer." Hatter tried to flicker back to his dead form, but Marco spoke before he could lash out. "Four plus eight is twelve. Twelve times two is twenty-four." Hatter was forced to snap back, a cry of pain escaping him. "What is Cheshire? Tell me now!" Marco snarled. Hatter writhed in his grip and Marco slammed him against the wall again. Hatter gave a wounded cry at the blow, the wire connected to his spine digging harshly into his flesh. When the pain faded somewhat, he glared at Marco.

"Seems I should have done better work on you, eh BIRDIE BLUE-BREAST? You'd have made a lovely pie!" He snarled at Marco. He bared his teeth at Marco, nearly animalistic. Hatter, still snarling like a beast, moved his right arm up to Marco's head, placing his palm flat on the side of Marco's head. Hatter blinked, eyes dilating hugely. He stared at nothing for a moment, then a slow grin came to his face. "Seems I'm not the only one who should have done a better job, eh, birdie? If only your masters had finished what they started with your ki-" Marco slammed him against the wall with enough force that he heard Hatter's ribs crack. Hatter cried out again, and Marco didn't let up on the pressure, earning gasps and whimpers from Hatter at the force against his broken bones.

"What. Is. Cheshire?" Hatter's eyes, glazed with pain, wandered over Marco's shoulder and caught on something. They stayed there for a moment before drifting back to Marco's face, a smile spreading his lips. His voice dropped to a conspiratory whisper that only Marco would be able to hear.

"Why don't you ask him yourse-" Hatter's voice cut off as his head did a full 360, accompanied by the sound of snapping bones. When his head came back to face Marco not a second later, his eyes were widened as if in surprise. He blinked once.

And unlived.

He fell limp in Marco's grip, shocked expression still on his face. His head hung oddly, twisted and sideways. His eyes were cloudy, and he didn't breathe anymore. "…Hatter?" Marco asked almost breathlessly. No response. Marco released Hatter and watched him crumple to the floor limply. "Shit." Marco wiped his face with a hand.

"Oh my God, Marco! You just killed Hatter!" Thatch sounded utterly horrified, Marco turned to face him, blinking confusedly.

"…No. I didn't. I…I couldn't have. I mean…I thought…Cheshire said inhabitants can't die in Wonderland. And…I didn't touch his head…" Marco turned back to stare at Hatter's body with wide eyes. What would this do to Ace? Would the part of Ace that was Hatter just be gone now? Marco really hoped that wasn't the case. Marco had been willing to use harsher methods to get information from Hatter because he didn't think he could do any lasting damage. But…But now…

…Now Hatter was lying limply on the floor like an abandoned doll because of him.

"…I don't think Marco was what killed Hatter." Whitebeard stated after a tense, silent moment. "But something definitely did. Which means we can't stay here. If there's something here that can kill inhabitants, it can probably do some serious damage to us as well." Thatch nodded and stood, wincing, still clutching at his shoulder in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

"Wait. Let me take a look at that before we go." Marco said. He approached Thatch, gently pulling away the hand Thatch was using to cover the wound.

It was a nasty piece of work. The muscles of Thatch's shoulder were practically mincemeat, and Marco guessed some damage had been done to the bone beneath as well. It bled heavily, blood chugging out in time with Thatch's pulse. Marco placed a hand lightly over the injury, mentally apologizing as Thatch winced. He looked Thatch in the eye and spoke seriously.

"This is going to be one of the weirdest things you've ever felt. And it'll probably hurt a bit." Thatch blinked, then nodded. Marco closed his eyes, letting calm overtake him.

In his mind he imagined the shoulder the way it should be, calling on his knowledge of human anatomy to remember every tiny muscle, every cell of sinew that must be in place for the arm to function properly. He then drew up a mental image of the way it was now, shredded, broken, useless. Slowly, again drawing on his knowledge of human anatomy, Marco went through the healing process in his mind. How the white blood cells would clot to stop the bleeding. How cell division, over the course of months, would do what it could to repair the mangled shoulder. Only in his mind, it did it perfectly. The muscles all reconnected the way they were supposed to, in the exact lengths and strengths they had been before. Blood vessels reconnected seamlessly. The bone, chipped and fractured, re-knit itself, perfect and unflawed. And, finally, new skin cells replaced the shredded dead ones, closing over the injury with smooth, pale new growth.

Marco felt the drain of it, but it was nothing. He knew if he hadn't acted Thatch's shoulder wouldn't have ever worked properly again.

Marco opened his eyes and withdrew his hand, looking down and seeing the healed shoulder exactly as he'd visualized it.

Thatch stared down at the former injury in wonder, flexing the joint, testing the muscles. "Holy shit! How in hell did you do that?" He exclaimed. Marco had already turned away, heading towards Whitebeard.

"Let me see your hand." Marco said calmly. He was fighting hard not to show the drain. When Whitebeard didn't extend it, Marco looked up to his face. Whitebeard was looking back at him seriously.

"You don't have to." Marco was about to protest but Whitebeard raised a hand, effectively cutting him off. "I know what this does to you. Don't you try to hide it. My hand isn't that bad, and certainly not worth what it'll do to you to fix it." Marco was about to protest again, but Whitebeard gave him a look and Marco gave it up, knowing it was pointless. He sighed.

"At least let me bandage it, then." Now Whitebeard did extend his sliced hand. Marco tore a few strips from the bottom of his shirt, wrapping the injury tightly. The bleeding had already slowed before Marco bound it, and he knew it wouldn't be long at all before it stopped entirely.

"Okay, seriously, though. How did you do that? With my shoulder, your stomach, your shoulder, and Hatter?" Thatch asked. Marco turned his attention to him, thinking about the best way to explain. Finally he sighed. Honesty would be simplest.

"It's a kind of Haki in the same vein as Synthesis. It's called Metamorphosis. Essentially, instead of using one's mind to alter the universe or reality, you use it to alter yourself. After…a long time of practice, I've figured out how to do it on others." Marco paused for a moment. "…To be honest, I think it's what turned Ace younger again. The Enlightened could do it, and a long, long time ago humanity could do it too. Now…well, I don't know that anyone alive today has the juice to get it done. Ace could probably manage self-Metamorphosis, but he doesn't have the experience to project it on others."

"The…Enlightened?" Thatch looked confused. Marco sighed again.

"The Enlightened, the Ancients, the Creators…there's a thousand different names for them in this language. I don't remember what Ace decided to call them."

"But if Metamorphosis is really what turned Ace little again, could you undo it?" Whitebeard asked. Marco rubbed at his face.

"I don't know. Maybe? If that tablet really was something left by the Enlightened…it'll be on a whole different level than me. We weren't designed to undo the acts of our Makers." Marco turned away. Questions he didn't want to answer would be coming up next. He wanted to avoid those if possible. "…But I think we should worry about that later. As Oyaji said, there's something nearby that can kill inhabitants. It's in our best interests to leave quickly." Whitebeard agreed, and while Thatch seemed to hesitate, still curious, he nodded as well. Getting out of Hatter's maze would be easier now that Marco had kicked down half the walls, but it was still a maze. It'd take them a while, and Marco didn't want to spend any more time in Hatter's lair, in Wonderland, than he had to.

Cheshire turned his head to watch the trio leave the room. He'd concealed himself from them. Even if they'd looked right at him they wouldn't have been able to actually see him. His eyes focused with particular interest on Marco, and he chuckled.

"…Metamorphosis? Hmm. Interesting trick, Marco." He focused his eyes, watching how Marco's hands minutely trembled, how pale he'd gone. "But you won't be able to use it again, will you?" He laughed, eyes smoldering in his head as he began to burn away.

"Well then, maybe it's time to confront the price of your curiosity."

(A/N: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand that's a wrap! Whadja think? I kinda liked parts of it, and kinda hated others. But that's just me. Please leave a review and tell me how it was! Reviews come with…brownies. Yup. And if you don't like brownies…then it'll come with…erm…vanilla ice cream. C:

See you all next time! ~Mountain97

Oh PS: I went to see The Conjuring last night. It was terrifying. Not quite as scary as Insidious (at least in my opinion), but it was definitely enough to make me lose sleep. So sorry if my sleep deprivation caused a rise in grammatical or spelling mistakes! XD)