Disclaimer: One Piece is not mine.
Beta'd by Anime Foxx & BlackFoxoftheMoon
Edited: 8.1.19
"What do you think, Teach – no, Blackbeard." Shanks addressed the newest warlord with barely concealed anger.
Their gazes met across the battlefield, and the emperor's eyes darkened at what he glimpsed in the other.
"You look more handsome than ever, Red Hair." Blackbeard sniggered. "Those scars suit you."
"No thanks to you." Shanks knew exactly which scars the warlord was referring to. Really, anyone who had been around long enough knew about them; there had been many rumours floating around the pirate grapevine about the story behind the scars, though the only ones who knew what truly happened was himself, his crew, a select few of Whitebeard's crew and the man who gave them to him.
The mentioned scars twitched as he recalled how they had come to be.
Behind him, he heard a gun clicking, and knew that Yasopp had his rifle held at the ready, aiming warningly at Blackbeard.
"Oi, oi. This is a little unfair now, isn't it?" Blackbeard remarked, gesturing to both Rainha and Yasopp. "There's two of you against only one of mine."
Shanks glanced at the assassin, and though he couldn't see it, he knew she was looking at him too.
"I'll take it from here, if you don't mind." It wasn't so much a question as it was a statement, and the red-haired emperor was relieved when Rainha nodded and withdrew her gun.
Briefly, he wondered what had gone down between the assassin and the Blackbeard's sniper; it was clear to everyone watching that they had some bad history, if her attitude was anything to go by.
"This will not happen again, Van Augur." The Black Queen warned, and promptly disappeared.
Shanks smirked, sensing her presence at the edge of the plaza next to Whitebeard. He was sure that exit had been done on purpose, and the gasps of shock from the marines all around were nothing if not satisfying.
That's not Soru. The red-haired emperor noted, and pushed it aside for the moment.
"Well now, since Old man Newgate is busy, I'll do him a favour and deal with you."
The Whitebeards were just about to cast off when Blackbeard made his appearance, and the atmosphere amongst them and their allies immediately took a darker turn.
It was expected, as the latest participant in the war had once been part of the Whitebeard crew. Despite wearing a mask, the cloaked man pulled his hood lower and watched the intense hostility radiating off the pirates around him. Whitebeard himself was releasing a large amount of haki that had many of the marines closer to the them passed out on the ice.
"That son of a bitch…" Ace growled. In response to his emotions, his fire flared up around him, bathing the surrounding area in a dangerous, orange light.
"Calm down, Portgas," the man said, his voice low. "He's not your fight."
Every pirate in the vicinity turned, looking at him incredulously as if he'd said something incomprehensible. Which, in hindsight, probably was considering the history between them and Blackbeard. The man realised his slip up as soon as the words left him.
Ace was there in an instant, hands gripping the neck of his cloak and face in his, glaring at him with a feral intensity that would scare off a lesser man. "You want to say that to my face?" He snarled.
Not him though.
"Before you attempt to strangle me, perhaps you should take a look at your surroundings first." the masked man reached up, easily prying off the second division commander's fingers. "I know you and your crew want revenge on that guy –and you have every right to, considering what he did—but right now, your priority should be escaping. Blackbeard will not let himself be captured here, and neither should you."
He swung his arm out in a wide arc at the sight before them. "Approximately three hours of war have created this. Seeing all this…this destruction—" He paused, taking a deep breath. "Will you still continue to fight?"
The effects of his words were plainly visible; they resembled a bucket of icy water, instantly dousing the fire of revenge that had been raging only seconds ago, and the man knew he'd hit close to home. Possibly too close, even. He thought, glimpsing a watery shine in the eyes of the pirates.
He would be lying if he said he didn't feel a little guilty about reminding them of the friends and family they had lost, but it was a necessary evil. They may not like it, but he was right, and the pirates knew that.
No one spoke; not him, not the pirates.
In the end, it was Jinbe who broke the silence.
"He's right." The fishman warlord agreed. "As of now, we should be escaping. This man and the Black Queen have created a chance to escape yet we are still here, wasting the precious time they have bought us." Jinbe sighed, dark eyes flickering down to the teen in his arms. "We should be tending to the wounded."
The warlord turned, climbing up the gangplank that led to the Moby Dick.
He watched as Jinbe disappeared onto the ship with Luffy and turned his attention back to Rainha. He'd gotten his message across; the rest were up to the pirates themselves.
…
Whitebeard surveyed his children as he suppressed his Haki, lost for words for once.
Like all his children, he wanted to tear that traitor apart, but the cloaked man's words rang in his mind, watering down his anger to let rationality take the reins again. The ire was still there, simmering in the back of his mind, but with more at stake, he wouldn't act on it now.
There was only one ironclad rule on his ship, and that was to never hurt family.
If some brave soul dared to breach that rule, they would face retribution from the entirety of the crew, allies included.
The old emperor's eyes met the blue of his first mate's, a silent message for them to leave. Nodding bitterly, Marco looked away to urge the crew's retreat. Most of the pirates were already aboard –their allies were already out on open seas, waiting for them—and the only ones left were the commanders. Eventually, they too boarded their ship, leaving only Ace who still stood next to Whitebeard. The cloaked man stood some ways away, next to the large bird that had carried them over.
"Oyaji…" Ace began, his head low. It was evident in his posture that he was reluctant to leave, even though Captain's Orders were absolute.
Whitebeard sighed inwardly. He had known since Ace first joined, that this knuckleheaded son of his would be hit the hardest should he ever have to leave them. While he didn't favour any children over the others, it was no secret that he had a soft spot for his youngest. Ace was very young, just barely out of his teens, and -though the kid himself denied it—sometimes cute in the eyes of his sworn family, despite the occasional complaints.
"Ace," He said, reaching down to gently ruffle his hair. "You should go now."
"But—"
"I've lived long enough. If I will die, it will be in battle. This place," the emperor looked around him. "Will be my grave."
Ace didn't say anything, knowing the tone in his captain's voice. Suddenly, he veered around and shouted at the cloaked man: "Hey, I thought you had a mission!"
The man turned towards them, his mask eerily white beneath the dark hood. "I do, but there is nothing I can do if he will not be convinced." He grounded out reluctantly. Whitebeard had a feeling that the brat wasn't very pleased with him, but he would never change his mind.
"You're not even trying!" Ace protested.
Before he could say anymore, Whitebeard stopped him.
"Go," He said softly, nudging his son towards his beloved ship. "And send that Red Hair brat some sake for me."
Ace looked up at him, dark eyes unblinking. Then he bowed towards his captain.
Thank you.
He turned and ran onto the ship, the gangplank immediately withdrawn by some other crewmember. The other three 'Moby's had already cast out, leaving only the flagship still docked.
Whitebeard cracked a large grin as he watched his sons go, following their brothers and allies. These children were his pride and joy, and damn if he would let any more harm come to them.
Although the emperor himself had decided to stay, he hadn't accounted for one other who had decided otherwise.
A presence suddenly appeared, alerting him to the assassin who had appeared out of nowhere. Subconsciously, he took a step back.
Whitebeard did not even have a chance to speak before everything shifted and he was suddenly seeing everything from an elevated height. Feeling a familiar rocking sensation, he looked around and found himself back on the Moby Dick with his sons staring slack-jawed at him.
"O-oyaji?!"
Groaning out loud, he turned to the prow, spotting the assassin, her companion and her bird standing at the edge of the ice, a small stretch of ocean between them.
Granted, he couldn't see their faces, so he couldn't tell what they –or rather, she—intended to do, but if the way that gutsy brat next to Rainha was waving was any indication…
"Bye!" The man yelled, a little too cheerful for the atmosphere around them.
Then, the ship started speeding up.
There was no wind, yet the sails were full.
Beneath the waves, he sensed several presences. "It's the Sun Pirates!" Someone yelled.
Distance quickly grew between the pirates and Marineford; the marines stationed outside were already taken out by their ally crews, so the Whitebeards made it through to open water effortlessly.
Looking back at the island, Whitebeard zeroed in on the two small figures in black, their dark wear standing out sharply from the bleakness of the ice.
He snorted. "Cheeky brats." He didn't know if he was amused or annoyed, probably both.
Not a moment later…
"You're welcome!" The cloaked man yelled back, his voice carrying over the ocean, and bringing a grin to Whitebeard's lips.
"Iva-san." Somewhere in the bay, a certain man in white and orange lightly shook the glass in his hand, letting the deep red liquid within to sway with his motions.
"Yes?"
"Straw Hat is already united with his brother."
"That vhe is."
"And they have already left with the Whitebeards."
"That's right."
"Shouldn't we be getting off the island?" He asked and took a sip from his glass. "We wouldn't want to get caught again."
"Vyou're right." The large man with a purple afro next to him scratched his chin thoughtfully. Seconds later, he cried out loud, scaring most everyone around him.
"Candies~! Vwe're getting off this island! To the ships!"
"Yes! Iva-sama!"
"Hee Haw!"
Inazuma trailed behind, watching as his leader and comrades terrorized the marines and hijacked a battleship, and took another sip.
It felt good to be free.
Aboard the Moby Dick, Ace slumped down against the railings, legs pulled up close and his head buried in his arms. No one bothered him, even though they were busy retreating and as the second division commander, he was supposed to be helping. But his ship-brothers knew better than that, and Ace was immensely grateful for it.
Images flashed through his mind. They were memories of his time with the Whitebeard Pirates, most of them of Whitebeard himself, and Ace couldn't help the smile that grew at the remembrance. Especially of the days when he had been a 'guest' on the Moby Dick. (Which reminded him, he'd never actually apologised for being such an ass back then…)
Then the ship lurched without warning. Ace had no idea what was happening, but he did know that his head hurt. He groaned, pulling himself out of the stack of crates he'd crashed into.
"O-oyaji?!"
A familiar voice groaned loudly, and Ace was greeted with the sight of his captain's, who had his back towards them. A loud goodbye could be heard, before he felt the Moby Dick start picking up speed. In the back of his mind, he registered someone mentioning the Sun Pirates, but Ace's attention was all focused on Whitebeard.
The emperor was looking at Marineford and snorted at something Ace couldn't see along with a comment about cheeky brats.
"You're welcome!" Someone yelled, but it sounded far away, and his father broke into a grin.
Stunned, Ace didn't return to his senses until they were out on the sea and well away from Marineford.
"Oyaji, weren't you—" Next to him, Rakuyo sputtered, eyes darting between their captain and Marineford, which was shrinking by the second. "We thought—"
Whitebeard let loose a rumbling chuckle, jolting Ace from his stupor.
"I was," Their father grinned. "But apparently, the Black Queen had other ideas."
Marco, ever the logician, asked. "How'd you get on the ship though?"
Their captain laughed. "I have no idea."
The entire crew fell silent as the implication washed over them.
She saved Oyaji…and me and Luffy…Ace thought, having mixed feelings about the entire matter.
He heard Marco sigh loudly and knew the first division commander was running his hand through his hair, like he always did when he was exasperated. "We really owe them yoi."
"That we do, son, that we do." Whitebeard replied. "Are you okay, Ace?"
Ace snapped up at the sudden address and nodded mutely. Compared to many of his crewmates, he was doing a lot better. He was only hungry and tired, while some of them had received wounds of varying degrees, and some…
The raven-head shook the thoughts away, not wanting to go there now. He'd have time later to deal with his emotions and the deep-seated guilt that threatened to swallow him, but now he would put up a front, so his father wouldn't worry.
"What about your brother?"
Luffy…? Ace suddenly remembered. Where the hell was his brother? He'd seen Jinbe bring him up, but the warlord was nowhere in sight.
Damn it! How could I have forgotten about Luffy! Frantically scanning the deck, silver eyes quickly located the blue fishman who was just emerging from below deck.
"Jinbe!" He rushed over, nearly tripping and crashing into his friend. "Where's Luffy?!"
He felt more than saw Jinbe reach out to steady him before gesturing to the door behind him. "He's safe, Ace-kun. I put him in the infirmary." Jinbe assured.
Right. Of course. With a quick 'thanks' over his shoulder, the fire logia immediately disappeared into the bowel of the Moby Dick.
Ace followed a route that had over the past two years became familiar to him and reached the ship's infirmary within minutes, slipping in through the open door.
The infirmary, which was usually so spacious, was jampacked with crewmembers – both injured and uninjured. The injured were being treated by the doctors according to severity, while some others were filling in for the nurses, who were nowhere to be seen.
All in all, with the amount of people in the room, it was practically impossible to spot his little imp of a brother.
One of the doctors, Brolnis noticed his predicament and helpfully pointed him to one of the small, adjoining rooms generally reserved for severe cases. He made his way over quickly and found Huan, another doctor dressing the many wounds that littered the rubber captain's body with the help of a crewmate.
"Luffy!" Ace rushed in, stopping short of the bed. He knew too well the temperaments of their crew doctors, who absolutely hated it when someone interrupted their work, and right now wasn't exactly the best moment to incur their wrath.
"A-ace…" Hearing his voice, Luffy's eyes fluttered open and shifted to him. "Are you okay?" He asked weakly.
"You idiot, I should be asking you that." Ace replied, moving to the side of the bed. "Don't scare me like that, stupid little brother."
Luffy tried to laugh, but only managed a rasp. "I'm not the one who got caught." He retorted.
The room fell silent. Huan had already finished his work and left to help the others, giving the brothers some privacy. Ace sat down on the bed, careful not to accidently jostle his brother.
"Ace…I'm sleepy…" Luffy mumbled, stifling a yawn.
He was barely conscious now, and Ace reached out to gently ruffle his hair. His brother was obviously exhausted, and it was demanding to be allowed the rest it deserved through heavy eyelids. The older brother felt the other lean into his touch and smile softly.
They both needed the physical contact to assure themselves that neither would be going anywhere anytime soon. The clash with Akainu earlier had been a very close call.
One too close for comfort.
"Don't leave…." Luffy yawned again.
"I'm not going anywhere, Luffy."
"…pr'mise?"
"Promise."
"O'ay…"
Finally succumbing to his body, Luffy closed his eyes, breathing evenly as he immediately fell unconscious, oblivious to Ace's half-exasperated chuckle.
"…you're such a troublesome little brother, you know that?" But I wouldn't have it any other way.
His heart finally settled in his chest.
Propped up against the headboard, Ace soon fell asleep alongside Luffy.
As he slipped into the warm embrace of sleep, an image of the assassin who had saved him and Luffy flashed by in his mind.
She feels kind of familiar… the other guy too...
"Fuffuffuffuf…now isn't this interesting? Who would've thought, eh?"
"Black Queen Rainha, 880 million Beri bounty."
"Oh, thank goodness!"
"The assassin's guild, Noite, huh…"
…
Amidst the chaos, four figures stood idly beside the remains of the scaffold, surveying the last of the battle playing out down below.
On the leftmost side of the scaffolding, a dark-haired woman sighed in relief before turning down blue eyes in disdain. Flicking her long hair over her shoulders, she lightly caressed her pet snake who was coiled around her protectively.
"I'm leaving." She stated coldly and stepped onto her snake.
A blond man chuckled just as the snake moved. "Leaving so soon, Hancock? The fun has just begun."
The woman glared at him. "I only agreed to fight Whitebeard, not Red Hair or Black Beard. And who gave you permission to speak my name, you insolent man!"
"I did, of course."
"I will be leaving as well. I only agreed to fight Whitebeard and not the other two. All things aside, this war has been a lost cause since Fire Fist and Whitebeard have both escaped."
"Aww, you too, Hawky?"
Between the two, a dark-haired man with piercing eyes reminiscent of a hawk glowered icily at the blonde.
"My name is not Hawky, Doflamingo." Adjusting his hat, Mihawk left for the far side of the island, where his coffin-shaped one-man ship was docked in a small port. Doflamingo attempted to return with a snarky reply, but Mihawk was walking away, and Hancock was already gone.
The blonde chuckled, looking to his other side where the last Shichibukai, Bartholomew Kuma, stood, stiff as a rock.
"Looks like it's just you and me, Kuma. Those two are missing out."
Kuma never answered him.
Rainha scanned the remains of the war that had just ended and sighed.
After Whitebeard had escaped, Blackbeard and his crew left as well, the man seemingly disappointed about something, but Rainha had paid him no attention.
As soon as he'd gone, Sengoku had ordered a ceasefire at the behest of Shanks.
Now, the marines were picking through the debris, retrieving their fallen comrades while the Red Hair Pirates recovered the bodies of any pirate unfortune to be left behind during the Whitebeard's hasty departure.
It was a solemn sight, and her companion too shifted in slight discomfort.
"Uncomfortable?" She looked at him, arms crossed.
"Not really," Her companion replied, his tone a bit amused. "Just a bit…overwhelmed, you could say. It's kind of ironic, considering what I do."
She rolled her eyes, and promptly dug her elbow into his middle with a harsh jab, eliciting a pained yelp that was frankly quite satisfying.
"What was that for?" He complained, though he kept the volume to a minimum to not give away their location.
"You were being stupid."
"What? WHY?!"
"Come on, there's something I need to do."
"I thought you were already done?" The man whined as he followed her.
"I left a few 'gifts' for the marines. I have to make sure they receive it, no?"
"Are you serious? You're actually going to do it?"
"Yes, and yes. Now let's go. I want to get out of here as soon as possible."
"You're crazy, you know that?"
"So are you."
"…you're not denying it?"
"No. Now shut up."
For a day stained with bloodshed and filled with memories best left forgotten, the sky that night was surprisingly clear.
The moon was out, white and full with no clouds to hide it. It casted a soft light onto the Moby Dick, creating a calming image that soothed. Even the sea was quiet, waves lapping softly against the hull, as if she thought that they deserved a break after the day's events.
Silently stepping out onto the small balcony at the stern where the commander's quarters were located, Marco leaned against the railings and gazed down at the sea foam that trailed behind the Moby Dick in its wake. They had decided against stopping for the night; it would be better if they got as far away from Marineford as possible. No one could sleep anyway, so they'd kept sailing under the moon.
This was second-hand knowledge relayed to him by someone else, though. Marco himself had been in the infirmary the entire day and had only emerged when things had settled down some to take a breather.
So many gone…He thought sadly, remembering all those men he had seen cut down by the marines. It may be a victory for us, but it certainly doesn't feel like one.
He watched the waves, silently grieving for the brothers he had lost. Having been on the sea for over two decades, the Phoenix was no stranger to death, but today was the first time he'd experience the loss of so many, and all within the span of a few hours.
So many lives, gone, just like that.
And they had almost lost Whitebeard.
Marco drew in a shaky breath as he remembered his captain's request to take care of their family.
I never want to hear those words again.
He didn't want to, but deep inside, Marco knew he would, sooner or later. It was inevitable. Whitebeard wasn't getting any younger, and his health was deteriorating along with his age. Even though he hated it, the first division commander knew this the best.
Today had only made it worse.
Looking up at the full moon, Marco wondered what they would do now. Yes, they had 'won' the war and had gotten Ace back, but at the same time, the crew's power was heavily diminished, and it would be some time before they would return to their peak.
Furthermore, Teach was still out there.
There was no doubt that the man would come after again, though there was no saying when. It was obvious that the traitor had come to Marineford for a reason, and they would have confronted him had it not been for that man pulling them back to their senses. If that had happened, Marco was scared to imagine what the outcome would've been.
A long sigh escaped the blond commander as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"Stressed?" A voice sounded behind him.
Lost in his thoughts, Marco had failed to notice the sound of geta clacking on the floorboards growing closer and was startled when someone spoke to him.
"Izo? I thought you were in your room yoi." He asked, remembering seeing the other commander go into his room earlier.
"I was only changing." Izo replied, now clad in a plain kimono and his long hair gathered loosely at the nape. His usual make-up was gone as well. "Being caked with dust and grime isn't a very pleasant feeling."
Marco chuckled, before pulling a face at his own clothes. "Now that you mention it, I'm pretty filthy." He clicked his tongue, picking at a dark spot on his sleeve. He didn't know what it was, but it probably wasn't going to come off.
"You are."
Deciding he would change later, the first commander turned back to the ocean and Izo followed suit, leaning his arms on the railing.
"How's Oyaji?" The sixteenth division commander asked, dark eyes fixed on the horizon.
"He's doing fine…well, as fine as could be for someone his age."
Long, slender fingers started drumming on the sanded wood. "He'll recover, won't he?"
"Eventually." Another sigh. "But…"
Izo glanced at Marco out of the corner of his eyes. "…You know Oyaji wouldn't want us to worry like this."
"He's sleeping. He can't tell me not to worry yoi."
"I can."
Marco glared at his brother from under hooded eyes, a silent question in his eyes and Izo yielded after a minute.
"Fine, I won't," he admitted. "but only because I'd be a hypocrite if I did."
The blonde turned back to the view, this time leaning further out to find the silhouettes of their other ships that were sailing close by. There was also another ship a small distance away that belonged to the Sun Pirates.
Both fell silent, until Izo decided to break it. "Well, enough with the depressing topics; let's talk about something else."
"Like what?" Marco drawled.
"The Black Queen?" The dark-haired commander suggested.
"What about her?" The other turned so that his back was against the railings, his usual bored expression set firmly in place. "I know as much about her as the next person. You'd be better off asking Haruta yoi."
"True, but Haruta's on the Moby Three now and I'm here."
"And?"
"If you want the truth, I have nothing to do now and her recent actions have admittedly made me rather curious." Izo smiled wryly and looked up at the sky. "I don't think someone like her would do what she did today without reason, though I am thankful that she did."
Marco shrugged. "Things would probably have been a lot worse if she and that guy hadn't showed up."
"Very true." Izo agreed. "I do wonder why, however. They don't really stand to gain anything by aiding us; as a matter of fact, there is nothing to gain."
"Except a favour to us yoi."
The sixteenth commander looked over inquiringly, causing the blonde to sigh and lace his fingers together over his middle.
"You do remember who the leader of Noite is?"
Izo nodded.
"And you also remember that that man is in the same group of legends as Oyaji, Roger and Garp?"
"Your point being?"
"My point," Marco grinned lopsidedly. "is that those legends have a sole, common trait, that being that they are all as whimsical as humanely possible yoi."
Izo deadpanned. "So, you're saying that she did that just to get into our good graces."
"That or she's just as capricious. Frankly, I wouldn't jump to conclusions just yet." The first commander stood up and stretched. A few 'pop's sounded as bones cracked, a testament to just how stiff he had been. "Besides, Ace probably knows something."
"Doesn't he always?" Izo snorted, reminded of the countless surprises the fire-logia had given them since he joined the crew two, almost three years ago."
"Exactly." Marco paused, trying to recall if he'd seen the fire-logia after leaving Marineford, only to find that he couldn't remember seeing the younger anywhere. "Speaking of Ace, where is he yoi? I haven't seen him at all and he wasn't on deck when I came up earlier."
"Where do you think?" Izo rolled his eyes. "He's in the infirmary, holed up next to his little brother's bed."
"Right." Because of course he'd be there.
Marco vaguely remembered seeing the name Monkey D. Luffy when he'd sifted through the medical records earlier but hadn't paid it much thought.
"Straw Hat is direly exhausted. He won't wake up for a week, at least." The first division commander mentioned, recalling the few lines written in the young captain's records.
"Mmhm." Izo nodded. "And that's why our dear little brother has brought a pillow and blanket and claimed the floor next to his little brother as his temporary bed."
"Come again?" Marco asked sceptically, wondering if he'd heard right. While he had expected Ace to do just that –because it's Ace—he hadn't expected to hear that he'd brought a blanket.
Since when did Portgas D. 'Fire Fist' Ace, second division commander and pyromaniac-extraordinaire ever need a blanket? The man himself was a walking furnace that was literally immune to temperature. Granted, he did have blankets, but the twenty-year-old rarely used them.
Many could testify to this; occasionally, when he overslept, and someone was sent to get him, they'd step into the room to find one Portgas D. Ace on his bed (or in some cases, on the floor) with his pillow under his head while the blanket was on the other side of the room. It had also ended up on top of the closet once, apparently. No one knew exactly how it got up there, not even Ace.
"Ace brought his pillow and blanket and set up camp next to his brother's bed. And no, I'm not pulling your leg. Namur ran into him on his way up." Izo schooled his expression into one of genuine confusion and mimed carrying bundles under his arms. "'Of course I'm bringing a blanket. Luffy wouldn't be happy if he saw me sleeping without one regardless of whether I'm cold or not,'" He put his arms down and smiled wryly. "Or so he said. Talk about a serious case of brother complex."
Marco chuckled, sounding lighter than he'd ever been today.
"I'm going back to the infirmary yoi. I've been out here a while." The first division commander motioned towards the door. "Are you coming?"
Izo shook his head. "I'm gonna stay a little longer to let my hair dry. Then I'm going up on deck to find a drink." He glanced at his brother teasingly. "Should we save some for you?"
"Yes please." Marco replied instantly. "For once, Oyaji can't steal our drinks, so might as well."
"Should I tell everyone you gave the okay to deplete the stores, so you'll have a valid excuse not to give Oyaji any?"
"Tempting, but no. Even if there were alcohol left, I am absolutely not giving him any until he's recovered."
Izo snorted. "Good luck with that."
"That, and alcohol poisoning is a huge pain in the ass."
The following morning was bright and sunny, a stark contrast to the grimness that enveloped the sun-kissed decks of the Moby Dick and its sisters.
When the sun rose, Marco had roused the crew and gathered them on deck, hungover or not to give an update on the crew's current state.
The previous day, as soon as things had calmed down and they had gotten far enough from Marineford, each division commander had done a headcount of their division and reported the tallies to Marco whilst their allied crews did the same via Transponder.
The numbers weren't pretty.
Compared to their original numbers, the Whitebeard crew had lost about one eighth of their crew.
Those numbers didn't even include the loss their allies incurred.
The Whitebeards were completely silent as they took in the news. Though they tried to hide it, they couldn't quite manage to stop the shaking in their hands. Tears were shed not too quietly, but none had the heart to say anything when they themselves had to make an effort to keep the sting in their eyes at bay.
The Sun Pirates who were sailing next to them remained silent as well, respectfully giving the Emperor's crew the space they needed.
Marco allowed some time for his crew to grieve, before relaying to them their next course of action which he and his fellow commanders had decided on after an early morning meeting.
The crew needed to recover, and after much discussion, the commanders had decided to head to Whitebeard's homeland. It wasn't part of the World Government and the marines had no jurisdiction there, so it was an ideal location for the crew to hide out on.
On their way there, they would make a quick stop at Spesery Island -a small, backwater island on the edge of the Calm Belt under Whitebeard's protection—to pick up their sisters and restock.
"Many of our family was lost," The first division commander began, "But they will be forever in our memories. For them, and for ourselves, we will continue living life to the fullest."
Blue eyes met those of the crew with a steady gaze.
"Do not let their sacrifices be in vain yoi."
In response, the Whitebeard Pirates grinned, and let out a huge roar in concert. The ships shook with their yell, as if they too were agreeing.
Shortly after, the crew dispersed to different corners of the ships, falling into some semblance of routine for all that it would never be the same. The wounds were still raw, but they had each other to lean on.
The cooks hastened to their respective kitchens to finish cooking breakfast. It was getting late; the crew needed the energy to keep the ships running and darn it all if the cooks weren't going to do their jobs right.
He glared down at a straw hat-wearing boy who was sitting at the base of a large tree, tied to it and smiling.
"Let's kill him."
"Right. Let's do that."
"EEHHH! Don't kill me!"
And then the sounds of the forest faded away.
He looked up, expecting to see dense tree canopies, but found a dirty wooden ceiling instead.
"Here's dinner." A large, orange-haired woman yelped, barely catching the deer thrown at her.
"Roast it. Fast."
"Dinner!"
He walked past her, pipe in hand and suddenly he was flying, a voice yelling to not come out until they counted to ten thousand before he landed in hot water.
Right. This was the bathroom. He remembered.
And then he felt heavy. Sinking.
A hand wrapped around his middle and pulled him up above the water.
"I've got him!"
Who…?
"…why do you call him your father, anyway?"
"Because he calls us his sons."
A familiar voice. He lifted his head.
"It's just a word. But it makes us happy."
A familiar face.
"Everyone is a child of the sea."
Marco.
Whitebeard.
A sword pierced through skin and flesh, protruding from the man's back.
Traitor!
He wanted to scream.
Screams resounded through the air, and he looked up.
"It doesn't matter, we're gonna die!"
A figure with a straw hat free fell from the sky and he felt his heart skip a beat.
Luffy!
"Sabo was such a kind older brother." A childish voice sighed.
"What's that supposed to mean?! Would you rather I died instead?"
Trees shifted, turning into a worn, wooden cottage.
"I heard that you were a naughty boy, Ace-kun…but you're surprisingly well-behaved." A woman's kind voice said, and he felt his face grow warm. "I-If you say so."
Snickering could be heard nearby.
"He's embarrassed."
"Ace, your face is all red!"
…
Ace's hand was intertwined with Luffy's tightly as he slept, head pillowed on his other arm and snoring lightly. His pillow had been thrown across the room, while the blanket had slipped from his shoulders to the ground.
This admittedly heart-warming scene was what greeted Marco when he entered the room.
Picking up the pillow, the first division commander made his way over soundlessly and placed it at the foot of the bed before draping the blanket on the back of Ace's chair.
Marco's eyes flickered between his fellow commander and the tray in his hands that carried a large bowl of steaming hot broth.
Should I wake him? He wondered. Though normally he'd wake up on his own the moment he smelled food.
Ace grunted and turned around so that he faced Marco, and only then did the Phoenix notice the many different emotions that flashed across the younger man's freckled face. He wondered what Ace was dreaming of to have so many reactions. One moment he was smiling, and then it turned into a frown. Sadness appeared soon, followed by a low growl which quickly turned into a whimper. The older D. started to fidget, and Marco took that as his cue to wake the sleeping man.
"Ace, wake up." Marco lightly kicked his chair.
Ace stirred a little but didn't wake.
Marco called his name again and kicked a little harder.
Still no.
Resignedly, Marco took two steps back. He didn't want to do this, honestly, but Ace was having nightmares now and the first division commander didn't need to touch him to know that his hand would come away damp with sweat.
"UGWAHH!" Ace yelped from where he was sprawled unseemly on the floor. "Marco? What the hell–"
Marco used his legs to expertly launch the pillow he'd picked up earlier into Ace's face, effectively silencing him.
"Lunch." The blonde placed the tray down on the newly vacated chair. "You missed out on breakfast yoi."
Ace rubbed his face and yawned. "How long have I been asleep?"
"Assuming you haven't woken up in between, about sixteen hours, I think." Marco gestured to the tray. "Eat up."
Ace looked over at the tray. The broth smelled nice, and probably tasted great, but…
"I'm not really hungry." He didn't feel hungry, though his stomach apparently wasn't on track with him.
Growl.
"…your stomach says otherwise." Marco commented.
Ace merely turned away, pointedly not looking at the older pirate.
Marco sighed and plopped down on the floor opposite Ace. The fire-logia was still not looking at Marco, though he was clearly struggling to maintain his distance.
"Ace, you need to eat yoi." He nudged the bowl over. "Huan did a check-up on you while you were asleep; I don't know when you last ate but you're showing signs of malnourishment - no doubt thanks to the last month in Impel Down – and you're exhausted."
"I just slept for sixteen hours! I'm not tired!"
"You've slept but you haven't eaten anything yet. If you want to get back in shape quickly, you're going to have to eat."
Ace pursed his lips, still reluctant. However, he was starting to waver, and Marco would die before he let that opportunity slip away. God knew this kid was even more stubborn than a bull.
"Izo told me what you told Namur about the blanket yoi." Marco pushed, motioning at the sleeping form of the Straw Hat captain. "How do you think your brother would feel if he knew you weren't eating?"
"He'd be mad."
"My point exactly."
"Fine, I'll eat." Ace mumbled and reached for the bowl.
Before his hand closed around it, Marco stopped him and pushed the spoon into his hand instead.
"Eat slowly yoi." He cautioned. "Your stomach won't be able to take it if you gulp it all down like usual."
Marco couldn't help but feel a tad bit guilty as he watched Ace slowly drink the broth, void of the vigour that had always been present during meal times previously. He had played low, using Luffy's possible reaction to get Ace to eat.
But hey, at least it worked.
The first division commander regarded Luffy, taking in the copious amount of bandages covering what visible part of his body. According to Huan, who'd taken care of him, it was mostly superficial wounds. There was some internal bruising and bleeding, but nothing life-threatening. The young captain would heal quickly with sufficient rest and food.
Thank Roger Ace has such a huge soft spot for you, eh?
It may have been a trick of the light; in the sunlight that filtered in through the portholes, Marco thought he saw the corner of Straw Hat's mouth twitch upwards ever so slightly. He smiled to himself.
I guess the feeling's mutual.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
In a dimly lit room somewhere, a man lay unmoving, his auburn hair a clear contrast against the plain white of the sheets. He seemed to be asleep, the covers rising and falling in rhythm with his breathing.
Beside him, a monitor glowed lightly, multiple lines that zigzagged across the screen displayed numbers that depicted the man's condition.
A petite brunette stood in front of the monitor, writing down the numbers on a clipboard that she promptly placed on the bedside table. Her hands were shoved into the pockets of her lab coat.
"This is the sixth month already." Her lips were pursed as she watched him breathe. "How long are you going to sleep?"
Why are you still here?
A sharp knock broke her from her thoughts.
"Windry!" Another woman, dressed in a pink nurse's uniform burst into the room, waving a copy of the paper excitedly. Her expression was a mix of excitement and relief. "They got him!"
The brunette – Windry—grinned and turned back to the man, while the nurse knowingly exited the room.
"You hear that?" She glared at the man. "Our family won the war and took him back. They'll be here soon, so you better wake up quickly, you hear me?"
Then, under her breath, she added. "He did it for you and got into this mess because of you; the least you could do is wake up to greet him."
The door closed none too quietly as the woman left.
Twitch.
The monitor beeped a little faster.