Chapter 47: (A/N: oh dear lord am I in a terrible mood right now. Please deal with my anger and any possible spelling/grammar mistakes that accompany it. Suffice to say school is pissing me the hell off and I'm writing in class right now. Math class, to be exact. So wish me luck on my next quiz. For review replies: I'll have them out soon. Sorry they're not out now, but as before stated I'm in a really bad mood and I don't want to be rude to you guys. So yeah. Hope you enjoy! Hope my anger doesn't kill the writing quality!

*aggressively blasts Kill the Rabbit playlist to give motivation to write and to tune out the fucking annoying people in my class*

Fun fact: Sharks have remarkably good hearing. It's true. Look it up.

And in case you hadn't noticed, this story kind of plays by One Piece's rules of injury and one's ability to stand up after taking ridiculous amounts of damage. So yes, it's unrealistic. But guess what? So's the fandom it's based on so deal.

This chapter has been rated T+ for sequences of GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, LANGUAGE, and ME STRUGGLING TO WRITE COMBAT

And now, ON WITH THE CHAPTER!)

The air smelled different. It had a bright, brackish tang, without the stale deadness of Wonderland's seas. There wasn't the oppressive stench of rot, and the breeze that gusted by occasionally was fresh and cool. Spray launched off the figurehead, brushing his face, and the sun warmed his back.

"…A-Ace?!" His face split into a grin and he turned his head slowly so the right side of his face became visible to the person behind him.

"Not exactly!"

Thatch snapped awake, sitting up with a gasp. His hands instantly clutched at his stomach, but there was no wound, no blood, no pain. He looked around desperately. No Queen, either. No throne room. No Red Palace.

But his eyes locked on the comatose forms of Marco, Whitebeard, and Ace.

He felt something in his chest clench. He'd failed. He'd failed Ace, he'd failed Whitebeard and Marco. And now there was nothing he could do to he-

A powerful thud snapped Thatch's attention upwards, towards the ceiling. It was distant, maybe even all the way up on the deck. It sounded like something had just hit something else. Hard.

Thatch's brows furrowed. He threw back the covers (he'd been unconscious on one of the cots in the infirmary. Selma and the others must have moved them after they fell into the flashbacks) and swung his feet to the floor. It was…somehow surreal, being back in reality. He'd expected it to feel fundamentally different from Wonderland, something in the air being somehow dissimilar. But it wasn't.

It felt exactly the same.

Shaking off the thought, Thatch stood. The gentle swaying of the Moby beneath his feet was familiar and reassuring. THUD. Thatch's eyes snapped upward again, face creasing with confusion. The hell is that? He made his way to the door, heading out into the corridor.

It was dead silent.

Where is everyone? The ship seemed to contain none of its usual movement and life. No footsteps could be heard, no distant laughter. It was totally still. THUD. Thatch followed the sound, weaving down the corridors of his home. The infirmary was on one of the lower levels of the ship, but in no time he was on the upper levels, nearer the deck.
The signs of damage began to stand out.

Thatch stopped near the first, a deep gash in one of the walls. He ran a hand over it carefully, the wood splintering around the damage. It went nearly 6 inches into the wall. The next was a series of gouges in the floor, all deep, nearly penetrating through the ceiling of the floor beneath. THUD.

The sound was getting nearer. It was now accompanied by other sounds. Namely breaking wood. Thatch's pace picked up, moving at a quick jog but not quite a run.

He got the feeling he'd need to conserve his strength.

The damage to the ship became more numerous and more brutal. Doors were reduced to splinters and hinges, walls dented, the floor pocked with gouges and slashes. THUD. The pounding sounded near, just a few hallways away.

And now Thatch could hear a voice.

"Sing a song of sins past
A goblet full of lye
All the Whitebeard Pirates
Baked into a pie!

When the pie was opened,
Their father cried and screamed!
Was this not a dainty dish
To set before Red Queen?

Your brother's in the mad house,
Clawing out his eyes!
Your daddy's in the dungeon,
Regretting all his lies!

Look me in the face, boys,
see your sins in red!
What better time is there than now
For taking off your heads?!" The voice was nearly a shriek with its volume, half-carrying the tune in a way that tightened Thatch's spine. He was full out running now. He knew that voice.

But how in hell had Queen gotten on the ship?

He swung around a few more corners and suddenly, near the end of the hallway, he saw him. Red Queen. 4'8" and hefting an axe bigger than he was. THUD. He'd just slammed said axe into the bowed, mostly shattered door of one of the larger bunkrooms. The door had clearly been under assault for some time, and it wasn't going to last much longer. It must've been barricaded on the other side to even still be standing. Queen would have it down in one or two more blows. If it was barricaded, and if Queen was attacking it so persistently…

A good portion of Thatch's family had to be on the other side.

Smart move, whoever decided running would be a better option. Unprepared, Thatch knew his siblings weren't ready to fight Queen. That much had been made clear by his, Whitebeard, and Marco's utterly ineffective, ill-equipped attack. But still. That door was coming down any second. Sure the people on the other side would have had more time to make ready in that time, but very, very few weapons were ever stored in the bunkrooms. A large portion of them would still, in all likelihood, be unarmed. They needed help. Quick. Thatch didn't think.

"HEY QUEEN!" he shouted, interrupting Queen's movement as he lifted the axe above his head in preparation for his next strike. Queen's attention snapped to him, axe frozen midair. He cocked his head almost inquisitively. Shit shit shit. Okay. First thing's first: get him away from the door. Queen is Ace's sin. Wrath, gluttony, sloth, envy, pride- Pride. He ignored the part of his mind shrieking that this was absolutely the worst idea he'd ever had and forced a mocking grin. "Did a pretty shitty job taking off my head, didn't you?" He leaned against the wall, feigning nonchalance. "You know, after everything the others said about you, I have to say I'm a little disappointed. Not exactly the perfect warrior and flawless executioner everyone in Wonderland seems to think you are." He wasn't close enough to see, but it was easy enough to imagine Queen's grip on the handle of his axe was nearly crushing. He could feel the growing rage, the air nearly crackling with it. Thatch could hear his heart in his ears. This was so not going to go well. But his smile didn't falter, his own tongue forming what tasted like a death sentence. "Pathetic."

The snarl Queen made was the most animalistic sound he'd ever heard human vocal cords produce. Thatch only waited long enough to see Queen's body turning to face him, one foot raised in the first step of pursuit before he was bolting back the way he'd come. He didn't waste time looking over his shoulder, he knew Queen was following him well enough by the almost inhuman, spat words of a rage so pure they were almost incomprehensible.

Thatch skidded around a corner, feet sliding as he momentarily lost traction on the floor. He didn't stop and didn't allow himself to fall, straightening and sprinting down the hallway, leaping down a whole flight of stairs. He heard Queen slam into the wall, but he didn't flinch or pause, Thatch could hear his footsteps still coming steadily after him. They were getting closer. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-

He wouldn't be able to outrun Queen indefinitely. That much was obvious. Not only did he have limited stamina, Queen was faster.

He might have a chance if he fought back.

Because this time he'd have his swords.

This logical progression of thought was both helpful and disheartening. Because right now he didn't have his swords. They were in his room, three decks below and half the ship away. FUCK.

Thatch skidded around another sharp turn, Queen's roared insults on his heels.

"Is it gone?" Selma asked, pressing someone's wadded up shirt to the deep wound on Fossa's shoulder. He'd been the one to spot Queen on the figurehead first. Damn good reflexes were all that had saved his arm and his life, but if Selma couldn't get him to the infirmary soon he might bleed out. "We need to get Fossa downstairs stat. He's going to need a blood transfusion and a fuckton of stitches."

"He's gone. I heard him run off like hell was on his heels," Namur said softly. "…I thought I heard something else too…"

"Oh God. Like what? We don't need more-"

"It sounded like Thatch." The whole room collectively froze, all attention snapping to Namur. He didn't back down, looking between them and meeting their eyes evenly.

"…Holy shit," Izou breathed. "They might be awake."

"What do we do?" A member of fifth division asked, looking between the commanders anxiously. "We don't know if the rest of the crew is all right. We don't know where that monster got off to. Hell, the voice could have just been another delusion or trick!" He looked between his companions desperately. "We're safe here. We should stay put and wait for it to disappear, like the others did."

"We wouldn't have been safe here for much longer if that thing hadn't left," Izou reasoned, trying to make his voice comforting. "That door wouldn't have lasted another four minutes. That makes me think it might really be Thatch. And besides, if we don't get Fossa medical support soon, he's a goner." He looked back up at Namur and Vista. "So there really isn't an option. And besides: Thatch is going to need help. He might be the best damn swordsman I've ever seen but that thing doesn't play fair."

"Izou's right. Here's what I think we should do. Izou, myself, and the majority of us will head for the infirmary. We'll get Fossa there safely and station a force there to guard the room. Vista, you go find Thatch and whatever the hell that thing was. Once we've secured the infirmary, a group of us can go out to find out what the rest of the crew's been doing. We'll bring any injured back to the infirmary," Namur said, voice in the forced calm of battle-mode.

"Sounds like a plan," Vista responded, pushing himself off the wall, settling one hand on the hilt of one sword. He took a deep breath, then nodded firmly towards the barricaded door. "Let's open it up."

Thatch ran down the stairs, taking them at reckless speed and jumping the last five. Queen was gaining ground steadily and he was starting to lose his wind. He was on the right deck now, though, and headed in the right direction. Just a few more turns, a long hallway, and he'd be there. He was panting now, his legs beginning to burn fiercely.

"What's a matter, Queen?" he hollered between pants. "Can't even carry out justice on me?" Queen gave a furious roar, and for a moment, Thatch heard his footsteps stop. A moment later, there was the sound of fracturing wood, then another moment of silence. Oh shit did he somehow get off course? Is he not following me-

The door Queen had torn off its hinges and thrown like a rectangular Frisbee collided with Thatch's back, carrying him off his feet and into the wall of the corridor he'd been about to turn down. Thatch fell to the floor, dazed, fighting desperately to remain conscious, to get back to his feet, to keep running. He rapidly blinked, trying to chase the swimming black spots from his vision. He needed to get up, he needed to go, Queen was coming-

A hand like steel closed around his throat, lifting him slowly from his position lying on the floor. His mouth gaped open, no air making it past that crushing grip. He felt like his head was going to be severed from the sheer force of Queen's grip.

"I'm gonna rip your fucking mouth out," Queen snarled, face inches before Thatch's own. His lip was curled, exposing his teeth. "I'm gonna hang it on the fucking wall like a trophy!" Maybe antagonizing all of Ace's wrath condensed into a single being was a really bad idea. "You think you're fucking hilarious don't you?! A fucking comedian." He leaned in closer, grinning right before Thatch's face, worms writhing agitatedly in his right eye socket. "Go on. Say something funny." Thatch was still gaping airlessly around Queen's grip on his throat. "Say. Something. FUNNY!" With each word he slammed Thatch's head progressively harder into the wall behind it, searing flashes of agony and white flares surging behind Thatch's eyes. On the last word he turned, lifting Thatch like he weighed no more than a doll and throwing him into the wall to his left.

Thatch felt any air in his lungs leave him in a pained gasp (he didn't have quite enough to scream) as he collided with the wall, moving into and through it accompanied by a shower of splinters and planks. He landed on the floor of the room adjacent to the hallway, rolling to a stop, feeling sharp pieces of wood poking at his back and limbs as he lay on them. His mind was dulled with pain, and it took him a moment to recognize the room he'd just been thrown through the wall of.

The infirmary.

Oh. Fucking. Hell.

"Well this is kind of fucking perfect dontcha think? Your screams can be the first your daddy gets to hear!" Thatch tried to push himself to his feet, but Queen planted a foot on his spine, shoving him back to the floor with enough force he was sure he'd have a lovely, foot-shaped bruise. You know. Over the lovely door-shaped one. "Now now little rabbit. What are you so scared of? And where exactly are you going to run off to?" Thatch turned his head so he could see Queen standing over him over the side of his eye. He had his axe hefted on one shoulder, and was grinning. He stooped, grabbing a fistful of Thatch's hair, releasing his back from under his foot. Thatch's mind was too busy still trying to come back online after been thrown through a wall to fight back or try to get away.

Queen dragged him through the shrapnel strewn across the floor, ignoring his faint groans of pain. He knew he'd cracked at least two ribs. Selma was going to be pissed. Queen stopped beside one of the cots, holding Thatch idly and regarding the figure lying upon it.

"Hello daddy," he said, voice between a snarl and a sneer. "How nice to see you again! Can you hear me down there?" Queen didn't wait long for a response, knowing he wouldn't exactly be getting one from the comatose captain. "I thought this would be a good way to start the show!" He leaned closer, bending slightly. His voice dropped the false cheer, turning to cold, bare fury. "And while you listen to Thatch gurgling while he tries to scream, I want you to remember this is your fault. You've been too damn proud, daddy. This is a lesson. This is to teach you." He grinned again, this time a bitter smile and something like despair in his eyes. "Have you realized it yet?! Have you figured it out?!" The despair was gone as quickly as it'd come, the worms seeming to have burrowed deeper into his skull. The grin was now nothing more than cruel.

"You can't save anyone, daddy." The words were slightly…breathy, like they hung on the cusp of a laugh. "You can't save Ace from Hare, you can't save Ace from himself, and you can't save your children from me!" A moment of perfect silence fell as Queen glared at Whitebeard almost accusingly.

With a gasp, Queen released Thatch's hair, leaping back, whirling to face the other way. His eyes narrowed, his free hand moving slowly to the light, shallow cut on his left side. He drew his fingers away, studying the crimson before moving his eyes back up.

"It seems all the scared rabbits decided to come out of their holes," Queen observed. Izou had another throwing knife ready in one hand, pistol locked and loaded in the other. Namur moved over to Thatch, taking a protective step in front of him. Thatch, with enough oxygen for his brain to actually function normally, scoffed, forcing himself to his feet, ignoring the sharp flare of pain from his side and back. Injuries were for later.

"It's good to see you again, Thatch," Izou said, never taking his eyes off of Queen. Thatch grinned through his pain.

"You know, you missed a chance for a pretty badass one-liner." Izou smirked.

"I figured a precise and effective stealth attack would be more appreciated than a witty comeback. Though the attack was a little less effective than intended." Izou cast him a momentary glance. "You all right?" Thatch straightened, wincing.

"I've been better. This wasn't quite the welcome I was expecting upon waking up." Queen was looking between the occupants of the room, clearly deciding what his next move should be.

"What is this, exactly? It's not Ace," Namur said. The last part almost sounded like a question and Thatch felt his jaw tighten. He took a deep breath. There'd be time for all of that later, once Queen was dealt with.

"This is Red Queen. He's from Wonderland. He represents every part of Ace that might be deemed morally wrong. Everything from the capacity for murder to lying about brushing his teeth in the morning. Self-loathing and guilt are those friendly-looking worms picking his brain. He's dangerous as hell." Queen grinned.

"Such a charmer!" His smile was cold as death. "But you should step aside unless you really want to get hurt."

"If you really think we're going to step aside and just kill Oyaji-" Queen's eyes snapped to Izou.

"Who said I was going after him?" Everyone tensed. "I first came here to kill you and don't fret, I'll get to that. Daddy needs to learn a lesson on boasting and pretending to have power over things he couldn't possibly hope to control. But right now? Priorities. There's someone far guiltier in this room." Thatch felt his jaw tighten. He means me. He's coming after me for-

"Ace's head has been on his shoulders for far too long."

Thatch felt every fiber of his being stiffen with shock. Izou and Namur wore similar expressions of surprise that Thatch was sure his own face matched. "Wha…?" Namur started, confusion evident in his voice.

"So many deaths. So many lies. I know best, having spent al my time riding around behind his eyes. I've seen all his crimes firsthand. Seen them in a way all of you, frankly, haven't. I'm the most qualified to pass judgment on him. And if there is one person on this whole disgusting planet that deserves to die, it's him." Queen's eyes locked back on them. "So step aside."

Silence reigned.

Thatch watched Izou and Namur carefully for any indication of what they were going to do next. He didn't think Queen's words would change their opinions on anything, but one could never be too certain and people were always a variable. Thatch blinked. Had he really thought that? Doubted his brothers? …It wasn't like him.

"…We're pirates," Izou finally said. "Lying? Killing? We do that on a daily basis. If you say Ace deserves to die for those things, then so do we." He widened his stance to one more suited for combat, Namur following suit. "So come after us first. Because there's no way in hell we're letting you get to Ace."

"You know nothing!" Queen snarled. "You don't know what he's done, what he's capable of, what he could do in the future! He's an abomination, a stain, a ravage on the face of the-"

"You know, I don't like it when people talk about my family like that," Namur said calmly. "Hey Thatch. Do us a favor. Go get your swords. Then find the other commanders. We'll hold him off until you get back." Queen smiled coldly, the wrath of a god in his eyes.

"'Hold me off'? The worms will be eating your tongues before Thatch makes it to the end of the hall." Queen shook his head, sneering. "All of you and your hubris. I'll see you scream for it."

"Thatch. Go," Izou said, aiming his pistol at Queen. Thatch didn't need to be told a third time.

He and Queen moved at the exact same moment.

Thatch threw himself towards the door, and Queen threw himself at Izou and Namur. Thatch saw Izou throw the second knife, saw Queen's head cock unnaturally far unnaturally fast to dodge it-

And then he was out the door.

They can handle it they can handle it you aren't going to be gone long, Thatch tried to reason with himself, sprinting down the hall. He knew, logically, that he couldn't do anything to exactly help without his own weapons, but that didn't help the weight of dread in his guts.

The hallways passed quickly, seeming shorter now that there wasn't a murderous monarch on his heels. Thatch rounded the last turn, barreling into his door so hard it slammed into the wall, its hinges squealing protest. A cursory glance of his room found it the way it'd been before, albeit with maybe the faintest coating of dust.

His swords were still leaning against the wall beside his bed right where he'd left them.

He grabbed both long swords, strapping them to his waist with practiced grace as he turned and headed back out the door. Their weight at his hip felt familiar as he ran once more down the corridor. But this time he wasn't silent.

He traveled at more of a jog now, saving his breath for shouting.

"JOZU! VISTA! HARUTA! CAN YOU GUYS HEAR ME?!" he bellowed, cupping his hands around his mouth to maximize volume. "ANYONE! IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, GET YOUR ASSES OUT HERE NOW!"

He travelled down a few hallways before he had any luck. By the time one of the doors flew open, an ecstatic Haruta launching herself out, his throat was beginning to ache from all the screaming. Haruta had her arms around him the moment she was out the door, almost lurching him around with the force with which she threw herself at him.

"Thatch! Oh my God! You're back!" She released him to look more closely at his face. Only now did she seem to see the disarray of his hair, the small trail of blood down his face, and the forming bruise around his throat. Her eyes widened. "Holy shit what happened?"

"Haruta there's someone from Wonderland on the ship right now. Someone really dangerous. So I hate to be brief, but we need to go back to the infirmary to back up Izou and Namur because by themselves they won't be able to hold him off for long. Is there anyone else with you?" Haruta's expression had shifted from elation to calm focus. She absorbed each of Thatch's words carefully, instantaneously, and perfectly.

"There's only a few members of sixth and twelfth division here. But I have a baby den den mushi that should be able to connect me to the other commanders. We going to need more backup?" Her voice was cool and calm, no trace of fear or self-doubt.

"Hell yes. Get everyone you can, particularly Vista and Jozu. This guy fights with a wicked battle-axe, Jozu's devil fruit will be helpful and nobody with hand-to-hand combat is really a good idea. Call them, and meet me back at the infirmary as soon as you can. I'm going to head back now to help them out, I've seen this guy fight before I might be able to help more." Haruta regarded him carefully for a moment, lips pursed.

"…You sure you're good to fight?" Some hint of his pain must have showed in his eyes. Dammit.

"Yes I'm fine. There'll be time to patch me up after Queen's gone."

"Queen?"

"That's the name of this thing. It looks like Ace. And it's a damn good liar. Don't let him fool you into sympathy. He almost killed Oyaji and Marco, and he actually did kill me and that's why I'm awake." Haruta's eyes had widened, but she quickly regained her passive expression.

"Then you need to get the hell back to the infirmary to help Izou and Namur." She smiled slightly. "You get going, we'll catch up. I'll have Rakuyo, Curiel, and Jiru round up the crew and make sure they're all safe. I'll try to reach Vista, Blenheim, Atmos, and Blamenco and send them your way, but I'm not sure if they have their den den mushis on them. I'll come meet you at the infirmary once I've contacted everyone. No go!" She turned, heading back inside the room she'd just come from and Thatch instantly started running back down the hall, shouting thanks over his shoulder.

The run back to the infirmary was uneventful, but as he drew nearer Thatch winced at the evidence of battle that marred the ship. It had gotten violent. Chunks were taken out of the wall, the hole where Thatch had been thrown through the wall quite large, stretching nearly to the floor.

There was a spatter of blood on the floorboards near the door.

Thatch threw himself through the door, one hand already on a sword hilt. Selma instantly leapt to her feet, whirling to face him, wielding the scalpel she had in her hands with wide eyes. Upon seeing him, she relaxed back into her chair beside Fossa's cot. She'd finished stitching the wound, and wordlessly handed a roll of bandages to a member of fifth division with the instructions to, "wrap it tight. Not enough to cut circulation but like you mean it."

"Where's Queen?" Thatch asked. Izou and Namur had either pushed him back or lured him away. Thatch, having fought Queen, was more inclined to believe the latter. He knew his brother's strengths. He knew they fought well as a team. But Queen fought like a nightmare and didn't play fair. Selma raised one eyebrow.

"What's it to you?" Thatch almost openly gaped at her.

"Uh I dunno maybe fighting him so he doesn't kill anyone?!" Selma's face set in a grim line. She stood, marched over to him, and grabbed one of his ears, dragging him down the eight or so inches so his face was level with hers.

"Don't you sass me, Marcus James Thatch. And don't you even dream of running off to fight! Not only are you clearly injured, you just woke up from a coma. You are not allowed to do jack shit until I make sure you're ready for it! Now sit down and let me check your damn head!" Selma dragged him across the room by his ear to a cot – the same cot he'd occupied comatose only this morning – and sat him down.

"But Selma be reasonable! Izou and Namur can't fight Queen by themselves! They need help!"

"And they'll get it!" Selma snapped. "Fossa still had his den den mushi on him. We heard Haruta and told her to send the other commanders to the deck! They already have backup by now!"

Thatch tried to come up with a retort. A reason for why exactly he needed to be up there so badly. But even he didn't know why it felt so necessary for him to be up there. With so many if not quite all of the commanders there? Could Queen stand a chance? Even he must be overwhelmed, surely? Against 8 or so Whitebeard Pirates Division Commanders, even a nightmare like Queen couldn't compare.

…Right?

Unease settled like sickness in Thatch's chest, but with no compelling argument to plead his case, he succumbed to Selma's prodding.

Blamenco swung his hammer, Queen bringing up his arms to block the blow from hitting his face. He skidded across the deck with the force of it, bare feet sliding across the smooth wood. Before he'd even stopped moving, Vista and Haruta were there, attacking simultaneously with their swords. Queen ducked passively under Haruta's swipe, grabbing Vista's arm and throwing him into her with enough force for the two of them to go skidding across the deck in a heap until they collided with a railing.

Atmos swung a debilitating blow at his head, Queen raising his axe to catch the blow, metal screaming on metal as the blade of Atmos' sword was caught between the blade and pole of Queen's axe. Queen grinned at Atmos maniacally.

"Trying to decapitate me? A man after my own heart!" With a twist and an ear-splitting screech Atmos' sword was broken, Queen snapping off more than half using his axe as a lever. Wasting no time, Queen slashed vertically at Atmos, a blow narrowly caught by Blenheim's sword. He grunted and strained under the pressure from Queen's axe, and Queen laughed cruelly, beginning to press him slowly to the floor.

Just before Blenheim's arms gave out, Queen was wrenched away by a powerful blow from Jozu. He gasped in surprise and pain at the attack of the new arrival, the blow sending him crashing into the railing near the aft of the ship. He landed with a dull thud, rolling once, twice, before coming to a stop lying on his side near the railing.

Oooh. Okay then. Let's play a different game, shall we? His axe had been knocked from his hand on the impact with the deck, but it had skidded to a stop a few feet away. He'd be able to get to it easily enough. He was facing away from the pirates, and raised one hand to the right side of his face, pressing against the eye socket. Back inside, loves. Just for a little while. We're going to play pretend.

He could hear footsteps approaching. Heavy enough Queen was sure they were Jozu.

"…Is it dead?" A somewhat distant voice asked. It sounded like the sword girl. You wish. You're not strong enough to unlive me, bitch. Queen took a moment to paint the mask. How perfect that it was Jozu approaching. This would almost be too easy. He wore his guilt like a shroud.

He felt a toe prod him, seemingly checking for life. As soon as it came in contact with his torso he sprung up, scrambling back on hands and feet. Jozu instantly assumed a battle stance, but Queen made no move to actually stand, scuttling back until his back collided with the railing. He had his right eye carefully shut, the worms tucked back into his skull, and the left widened with fear.

"Don't hurt me! Please, please don't hurt me!" he'd carefully pitched his voice just like Ace had, all that time ago, when he'd tried to flee Jozu and the third division after seeing Hare, just before he'd gone back to Wonderland. Queen saw the muscles in Jozu's torso tense with hesitation. "I was Queen before but I ripped him out see, he's gone, no more worms! Please, it's just me! Don't hurt me, Jozu!" Queen forced tears into his eye.

"Jozu don't listen to it! Kill it! It's not Ace!" Shut up sword bitch. Just watch the show.

Jozu seemed to almost jump at Haruta's words, coming back to reality. Oh no. You can't out manipulate me. Jozu raised one fist and Queen shrank back, staring at him, wide-eyed. His eyes flicked between Jozu's fist and his face, huge with terror, and he allowed the first tear to roll down his face.

"Oh God. I was right. I was right. I should have run away from you. I should have known you were going to hurt me. God, I did know, you cornered me in that hallway! I was right to be scared of you!" The tears were flowing steadily now, and Jozu was completely frozen. His eyes were wide with shock, mouth slightly slack.

"Jozu! Now! It's lying! It's not Ace!" Jozu turned slowly, grief and guilt and anguish on his face, to look at Haruta.

"But how could it know that, Haruta? How could it possibly-"

Queen moved like lightning, darting right, grabbing his axe, and embedding it deep in Jozu's side. Jozu choked on his words, eyes widening with pain. His gaze flicked down to Queen's face, and Queen opened his right eye again, the worms wriggling forth eagerly. Queen grinned up at him, eye widened.

"GUILTY~"

Thatch you need to get up there NOW! The nagging sense of wrong had been picking at him, growing more and more frantic. But now it was articulate, and loud with desperation. And suddenly, it made sense. Why he couldn't explain it to Selma.

It was Ace's thought.

Ace was communicating with him.

And something was very, very wrong.

Ignoring Selma's immediate and vehement protests, Thatch practically leapt to his feet, scooping up his swords from where they'd been leaned against his bed, and ran for the door.

He felt like he'd never moved faster. The hallways passed in blurs and he flew up the staircases. In moments, he was on the deck.

"Jozu! Now! It's lying! It's not Ace!" Thatch's eyes swept across the scene, instantly snapping on where Jozu was standing. From this perspective he could only see Queen's axe slightly off to the side, and he assumed Queen must be behind Jozu. Jozu turned slowly to look at Haruta, and Thatch saw bitter torment in his eyes. Thatch's eyes widened and he started to move, somehow already knowing he'd be too slow. Dammit dammit dammit don't take your eyes off him NO-!

"But how could it know that, Haruta? How could it possibly-" Thatch saw the axe move, saw Jozu's eyes widen, and saw the blood begin to pour.

"GUILTY~" Queen half-sang. He felt his heart stop in his chest, and dimly felt…something foreign. Later, much later, he'd realize what exactly had happened at this moment, but now there was only one thing.

Pure fury.

"YOU BITCH!" he screamed, moving across the deck so quickly even Queen's eyes widened in surprise. He tried to yank the axe from Jozu before Thatch got there, but before he could even begin to Thatch was across the deck, one hand in Queen's hair, the other around his throat.

He dragged Queen away from Jozu, slamming him into the deck so hard that even Queen cried out in pain. Thatch straddled his waist, preventing him from going anywhere. Queen looked up at him, his eye widened hugely in innocent terror.

"Big brother, you're scaring me!" His breath caught in his throat in a sob of terror. "What are you doing? Why are you hurting me? I thought we were family!" Thatch's hand clamped so tightly around Queen's throat he felt his windpipe begin to collapse under his grip.

"You're not Ace," Thatch snarled in response. He brought the other hand to Queen's face, closing his fist around the writhing, slippery forms of the worms, and started to rip them out of Queen's head. Queen screamed in agony, back arching harshly, left eye squeezed shut. The moment seemed to stretch, Queen's agonized scream in Ace's voice searing itself into the minds of everyone on the deck. Some almost moved instinctively to help. Almost.

But then the moment ended.

The worms tore out of Queen's skull with a sickening pop-squelch. They still wavered, almost confused, in Thatch's closed fist, held above the both of them. Queen's scream ended and his back relaxed slowly. His breath still came in tortured, choked gasps, and he seemed to be fighting against further noises of pain. Thatch said nothing, glaring down at him, lip curled. Finally, Queen spoke, a tiny hint of a smile on his face.

"…I always knew you had brutality in you. Such ruthlessness." His words were laced with pain, but weren't choked. He spoke smoothly, voice so low Thatch knew he was the only one on deck to hear it. "…You can't kill them, you know. The worms. You have no weapon or word that works against them. They'll be there, wriggling in Ace's mind, until the day he dies." Queen seemed to almost choke, black sludge spurting between his lips, speckling his face with tiny droplets. He took a moment to seemingly recollect his thoughts, his eye beginning to go unfocused but locked on Thatch's face. His words were slower now, more uneven.

"Marcus James Thatch. On this the second of November, you stand accused of the temporary murder of Red Queen of Wonderland. I find you-" Thatch's hand, previously around Queen's throat, flew to his belt, drawing one of his swords. He didn't hesitate, driving harshly it into Queen's chest, cutting him off. Queen's face morphed into one of surprise, mouth forming a small 'o' of mixed pain and shock. A tiny sound passed his lips.

"Stuff it," Thatch said coldly. Queen stared at him for a moment longer, and for a moment, a glimmer of recognition sparked in his eye.

And then he unlived.

Thatch stood, composed, and slung Queen's body over his shoulder. It flopped ungracefully, as corpses are prone to doing, but he didn't have to carry it far.

He threw it, and the worms, over the railing and into the sea.

As he turned back, he felt something leave him, like a powerful force. Queen was dead. Order was restored. The rage was gone. Thatch sank to his knees, sword falling from his hand. His blade and shirt were stained with Queen's blood, his left hand with the black, sludgy residue of the worms. The pain and exhaustion of the battle, the running, and his injuries fell upon him like a sack of bricks.

Someone swam into his vision, crouching before him so they were eye to eye. If the damn black spots would go away maybe Thatch could tell who they were.

"…Thatch?" they asked cautiously. Male voice.

"Jozu…needs to go to the infirmary," he managed to murmur.

"Yeah. We're taking him down now. You're not looking so good either, so I'm going to take you down if that's all right." The voice still sounded cautious, and almost stunned. Thatch managed to kind of nod, and the person picked him up carefully. He hissed in pain when the shift jarred his broken ribs, and the person holding him almost flinched.

"What's the matter?" Thatch asked. A moment of silence passed.

"…I…I know that thing needed to be killed, but don't you think you were just a little…excessive? I've…I've never seen you fight like that."

"What, hand to hand? You've seen me fight like that tons of times."

"That's not what I'm talking about."

A long bout of silence passed, and Thatch saw the ceiling of the hallway passing by.

"…Why did you dump the body?"

"Hmm?" Thatch had almost fallen unconscious, his carrier's question escaping his hearing.

"I asked why you dumped the body. He was already dead, why bother? It seemed kind of…I don't know. Dishonorable."

"Didn't want the bitch standing up again."

"But you'd already killed it, Thatch. It wasn't going to."

"You can never be too careful. Threats have to be eliminated. Entirely. Nobody is allowed to hurt my family," Thatch murmured. His voice was growing weaker as unconsciousness tried to claim him. He was becoming delirious, even he was dimly aware of it.

To be honest, he didn't know what had made him kill Queen so…savagely.

And that would have scared the hell out of a more conscious him.

But as his eyes drifted closed, one last dim thought echoed through his head. You did well. My family is safe.

And he smiled.

(A/N: Hey all hope you enjoyed the end kinda sucks but that just kinda sucks because it's 2:30 and I need more sleep in my life.

I know I ask this every time but I actually really need you to review this chapter and let me know how I did on the combat scene. The next chapter is also going to be quite combat heavy and I need to know if I'm doing it right and/or what I'm doing wrong. So PLEASE drop a review.

There's a fuckton of foreshadowing in this chapter. A. FUCKTON. So go look for it!

So…nothing else to really say. Hope you liked it. Hope the end didn't suck too bad. Hope I can get back to a regular sleep schedule. Goodbye, see you all next time! ~Mountain97)