Hello everyone! Here's the redone chapter 2!

I don't own One Piece or any of it's characters, I only own my OC.

Chapter 2

When I woke up again, I wondered if I had. Then I heard the beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! of the life support system.

Great.

Judging by the lack of noise besides the life support system, I was alone. Also, I was thirsty. But, of course, I couldn't move.

"Hello?" I called. My voice echoed across the walls.

There was no response.

I sighed and shut my eyes, even though I knew it wouldn't make a whit of difference.

Then, I shook my head. "Buck up, Zia. Stay optimistic. Maybe my sight just needs a bit of time to come back. And it's not so bad here. Hospital bed's comfortable, the room is warm... Even though I'm on a pirate ship..." my voice trailed off after that. Who the hell was I trying to kid? I was scared. But there wasn't much I can do right now.

That was when the doorknob clicked, and, I assume, the door opened.

"Hey kid." Marco's voice came from the darkness. "Good to see you're awake."

I relaxed a bit. "Hey Marco." At least it was someone I knew, even if he was a pirate. "What time is it?" I asked. I wasn't sure why I asked.

Then, my stomach grumbled.

There was a moment where silence hung in the air.

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks. Of course. How long had it been since I'd eaten?

Marco chuckled. "I guess you're pretty hungry. Hang on a minute, I'll get you something."

There was a creak, and then a click. Then, the room was silent again, save for that annoying beeping.

I sighed. I took a few deep breaths, and tried to not think about the pit that had settled in my stomach. My stomach growled again.

"Shut up." I told it. "You're growling to the wrong person."

My stomach growled again.

I sighed in defeat.

"There has to be something I can do..." I muttered to myself. Not only was I hungry now, but I was getting really bored. I tapped my foot impatiently, trying to entertain myself.

It felt like forever before the door creaked open again.

Marco must have been wearing heavy boots, because there was a soft clicking whenever he took a step. The most delicious smell wafted through the room. I'm serious, if you haven't eaten in three weeks, the smell of minestrone soup is enough to drive you crazy. Even if you're the type who isn't really that good about eating their vegetables. Yup, I'm more a meat and potatoes person.

There was a loud scrape of a chair or a stool or something across the floor, and a thump as Marco sat down.

I felt the mask that was over my nose lift, and get pulled off my head. "The doctors said you're good to have that mask off," Marco said, "but you can't eat solid food yet. So, I asked Thatch in the galley to whip up some soup for you." He gently took my shoulders, and helped me up, propping my back against my pillow so I could sit up.

I tested to see if I could move my arms. Of course I couldn't. "I can hold it." I said. Don't ask why. I guess I didn't want to look any weaker than I already did.

"You sure, kid?" He said. I could hear the doubt in his voice. "It's pretty hot, and it might be tricky for you to hold the plate it comes on."

"I can handle the plate the bowl stays on." I lied. "I like the design on the plate, by the way."

Marco sighed. "What plate?" he said.

I sighed. For a second, I thought if there was a will, there was a way, but that was a long shot. "Hey... Marco?" I asked. "I really am blind, aren't I?"

There was a short pause, in which I thought Marco might have nodded. "Yeah, you are."

I sighed. "Fine... I need help with my soup... please."

"Sure thing, kid." Marco said.

The soup was hot, but it was really good, or as good as a veggie only soup can be. The broth tasted smooth and creamy, and the veggies were soft and well-cooked.

I felt so stupid, being spoon-fed by some pirate I barely knew. Hell, I felt weak and stupid being blind and bedridden.

I just had to hope that Marco didn't smirk whenever he wiped soup drips from my chin.

"How does it taste?" Marco asked after a while.

"It's good." I said. "My compliments to the chef." I said, remembering what Mom had taught me about courtesy in the culinary world.

Marco chuckled as he gave me another spoonful of soup. "Well, it's good that you like it, but I think I'll just tell Thatch you ate the soup. I don't want him to have any more of an excuse to brag."

I laughed. Of course, I still had the soup in my mouth, so I ended up inhaling hot soup. I coughed violently, doubling over, and knocking the soup bowl out of Marco's hand.

Hot soup spilled all over my left arm and shoulder.

I gasped. It hurt like crazy! And I couldn't move my arm to get the soup off it!

Marco moved fast, grabbing my blanket and quickly wiping the soup off my arm. "Hey, you alright, Zia?" he said, pushing my bangs out of my eyes.

I managed to nod. "I think I'll live..." I said, trying not to cry.

"Hold on a second." he said, and then there was a rapid clicking across the floor, and the loud creak of a door being thrown open. I just caught Marco shouting outside the door, "THATCH! Thatch, come here!"

The door shut with a loud creak and a slam!

There was a staccato clicking of boot heels on the floor, and a new voice said, "What's ruffled your feathers, Marc- oh. Yeah, I see what's ruffled your feathers."

"Very funny, Thatch." Marco said sarcastically, trying to wipe the soup from between the tubes stuck in my arm. "What do you know about healing burns?"

"Soup burns," the new voice said. "I would use an ice pack. I've got one here."

That's when something cold was pressed against my left arm. I gasped in shock, and I would have shot up if Marco hadn't stopped me with his hand.

A cold feeling spread over my burned skin. Now, normally I can't stand the cold, but in that case, nothing could have made me feel better. I bit my lip, and sighed with relief.

For the next few minutes, Marco and the other guy moved in and out of the room, grabbing more and more bags of ice, and placing them on my arm, until it was pretty much covered with them.

"You doing alright now, Kid?" the new voice asked.

I nodded half-heartedly. "I'm doing better now." My voice broke a bit. I was doing better, but I had been trying to keep back the tears for a bit too long. I just couldn't anymore. I sniffed. "Sorry..." I choked out.

"Hey, you're alright, Kid. From what Marco told me it was his fault, anyway."

"Zia," Marco said, sounding slightly annoyed. "Meet Thatch. Thatch, this is Zia."

The newcomer, Thatch, took my right hand in his larger one. He shook it so hard, I thought it was going to come off. "The name's Thatch!" he said. " Fourth division commander, and Chef Extraordinaire! I'm probably the best seafaring pirate chef in the new world!" Something about his voice shook me to my bones. It was so loud and jolly, it seemed infectious.

I swear I could hear Marco sigh in annoyance.

I raised an eyebrow. "My mom always said that if a male chef boasts like that, they're either giving their cooking way too much credit, or they're overcompensating for something."

Beside me, Marco snorted.

"Wha-" Thatch said, his voice trailing off.

"Take it easy, Thatch." Marco said. He sounded like he was trying really hard not to laugh. "There's no dignity in challenging a bedridden kid to a duel over overcompensated honour."

"Fine, fine..." Thatch grumbled. Then, he laughed loudly.

I blushed. Honestly, I didn't know what he'd be overcompensating for. Mom hadn't explained that to me yet. "Sorry." I said.

"Ah," Thatch said. "No problem, Xeena. "

"It's Zia." I said.

"Are you sure?" Thatch asked, tousling my hair.

"Last I checked, yes."

"Oh, that's right!" Marco said, clearing his throat a bit. "Pops wants to speak to you when you're healthy enough to walk."

I felt the blood drain from my face. What on earth would Whitebeard want with me?

I didn't know much about Whitebeard, despite living in the New World, but I knew what most people know, and that's that Whitebeard is the strongest pirate in the world, with one of the largest and most ferocious crews on the seas.

I felt a bit nauseous just thinking about that name. "Why?" I asked. My voice came out as more of a squeak than a dignified question.

"Zia," Marco said, patting my shoulder, "you have absolutely nothing to worry about. All Pops wants is to meet our guest. Nothing's going to hurt you here."

"I'm not worried." I lied.

"Zia," Marco said lightly. "You are an incredibly terrible liar."

I sighed nervously. "Okay..."

"Well," Marco said. "We should leave you to get some rest. It's almost ten o'clock."

Was it really that late already? I hadn't noticed it.

I was about to protest that I'd been sleeping for the better part of three weeks, and I wasn't tired, but I nodded. I guess I was pretty tired, if I didn't have the energy to argue.

"See you tomorrow." Marco said. "Come on, Thatch, let's give the poor kid some time to rest."

"See ya, Kid!" Thatch said brightly, giving me a noogie. "You rest up!"

I tried to ignore the 'see' part in that, and I said, "g'night." I sank back against the pillow, and before I could even think about how I was going to get to sleep, everything slipped away.

Marco and Thatch left the room as quietly as they could.

Zia had looked like she was going to protest at going to sleep for the night, but she had fallen asleep before they had even opened the door.

Marco guessed it was just too much excitement for her for an hour and a half, although he definitely didn't think much of the soup fiasco.

"She's really looking better." Thatch said as they walked down the deck towards the galley. He grinned up at the sky, then looked at Marco out of the corner of his eye. "She looked like a corpse before."

"Thatch, don't be rude." Marco said curtly. But he was right.

Zia still looked like she could get sick at any moment. Her skin was so pale, and that was only heightened by her raspberry coloured hair and her sea green eyes, even the splash of freckles across her nose.

When he had brought her on board, she'd been unconscious, covered in horrible burns, and, according to the doctors, slightly concussed. One of the doctors that had looked after her had expressed astonishment that the kid had survived at all.

And now she was awake, aware, and on the road to recovery, no matter how fast or slow the process.

He had figured Zia would take being aboard a pirate ship, a ship of one of the Yonko no less, a lot harder than she had. The flash of fear at the start was expected, but it had disappeared as soon as he'd explained that she wouldn't come to harm. Of course, it might've been the result of her still very low energy level.

Marco wasn't even sure why he had told the kid in the first place. He could have just told her his name. There were plenty of Marcos out there, he was sure. But, he didn't think he would have been able to live with the guilt of lying to a blind girl, no matter his intentions.

When they got to the galley, Marco turned to Thatch and said, "I'll catch up with you in a moment. I've got some things to talk to Pops about."

Thatch nodded. "Hey, Marco..." he said.

"Yeah?"

"That kid is really scary looking, you know? With the reddish pink hair and all." He grinned hugely. "I'd hate to see how scary she gets when she's angry."

Marco rolled his eyes and ran his hand through his unruly blond hair. "Zia would probably say the same thing about you, pal, if she could see you."

Thatch shrugged. "Well, I am so good-looking, it's terrifying." He said with a smirk.

Marco rolled his eyes at his friend, unconsciously taking in the honey blond pompadour, the pointed beard, the smug look, the purple form fitting suit and the small black shoes that was Thatch. He was the poster boy for hunks... Right...

"See you at dinner Thatch." he said as he turned away, making his way to centre stern.

He stopped at Whitebeard's door, and knocked. "It's Marco." he called. He stepped in when bidden to do so.

"Ah! Marco! How goes our young guest in sickbay?" Whitebeard was sitting on his large chair, a large mug of grog in his hand. He smiled down at Marco.

"Better than before, that's for sure." Marco said, sitting down at his captain's feet. "Although I think the minestrone soup fiasco was a little too much excitement for her. Oh, that and meeting Thatch, I think. He's an exhausting guy to the inexperienced."

Whitebeard laughed. A booming sound that made the entire ship quiver.

Marco had no doubt that even without his devil fruit power, Whitebeard could have made this happen. He was such a big presence that he could shake the world with that alone.

"You will have to tell me that story later, my son." he chuckled.

Marco chuckled at the memory of that comment Zia had made about Thatch overcompensating for something. He was sure the kid had absolutely no idea what she had said. I mean, seriously, what eleven-year-old uses the word 'overcompensating', on a regular basis, anyway?

The look on Thatch's face had been beyond priceless.

Marco had been pretty impressed that Zia had managed to shut Thatch up, even for only a few seconds. Even if she had no idea what she was saying.

"Oh, yeah." He said, looking up at Whitebeard. "She looked a little distressed when I told her you wanted to speak with her later. I told her everything would be fine, but I'm not sure I convinced her. The idea of being on one of the most famous pirate ships in the world run by the strongest pirate in the world is probably not comforting."

Whitebeard nodded. "There is one thing I've learned over the years, Marco, and that's that I can be very frightening to children."

"Hey, Zia."

I opened my eyes groggily, remembered I was completely blind, and groaned. It was way too early for this... Whatever this was.

I turned over and buried my head under my pillow and pulled the covers over my hair. "Hrmmm..."

"C'mon. Get up." Marco said, gently poking me in the back of the head. "It's past eleven o'clock."

"Just a few more minutes..." I groaned into my pillow.

There was a shuffle across the wooden floor, then Marco started shaking my shoulder. "C'mon." he said. "You can't sleep the day away."

"Goway..."

There was a short pause, then Marco pulled the covers right off me.

I yelped as the cold morning air washed over me. I must have jumped a foot in the air, and I landed in a sitting position on the mattress. "Marco!" I yelped.

Marco's carefree chuckle couldn't have made me feel more irritated than that moment. "Well," he said. "Are we ready to get up yet?"

I groaned again, and let my head hang.

I heard Marco snort.

"What?" I asked.

Marco chuckled a bit.

I frowned. "It's my hair, isn't it?" I deadpanned.

"How did you-" he began.

"Just because I was blinded doesn't mean everything else has changed." I knew my hair always looked like I was into sticking my fingers in electric sockets in the morning. It always stuck up at odd angles.

I yawned and stretched. Then, I thought of something. "Hey, how does my arm seem to you?" I could move my arms again. I flexed my fingers experimentally. I felt a weird tingle every time I flexed a muscle.

"It looks like your burns are healing well." Marco said, poking at my arm. Then, he ventured a little further. "Do you think you can stand?"

I frowned, thinking. "Maybe. I might as well try."

"Hang on a second." Marco said, "just let me move your IV machine for a second, so you can walk without pulling out your catheters."

I felt my ears get warm. I realized something. I had no clue what he was talking about. "What's a catheter?" I asked.

"Catheters are the hollow needles that are connected to your IV tubes." Marco said, "You didn't know that?"

I felt an uncomfortable knot form in my stomach. "Wait, are you saying I've got needles in my arms?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

I nodded weekly. "Oh." I squeaked. I hadn't noticed them at all.

There was a shuffling, and then the sound of wheels on the floor. Then Marco said, "Ok, that should be good enough. Give it a try."

I nodded, and with Marco's guidance, managed to grab the IV pole, and shuffled forward a bit, so my toes were touching the floor.

The floor was cold, but not unpleasantly so. I felt a smile tug at the corner of my mouth. "Well, here goes nothing." I flattened my feet against the floor, and then pushed myself up.

"Hey!" I cried out happily. "I did it!" That is, until my knees started to shake a bit. In order to keep myself from collapsing and embarrassing myself further, I took a step forward. I wobbled a bit, but I managed to steady myself before I could fall.

"Don't push yourself too far." Marco said, sounding concerned.

"Ah," I said, "I'm fine. And if not, I'm going to have to be. I'm not going to spend another day in that bed doing nothing."

Marco chuckled. "Getting cabin fever? I can understand that. So just keep practicing until you feel comfortable, if you'd like."

I nodded. "Right."

It didn't take me too long to get my sea legs back. Once I managed to walk around the room without stumbling or falling, with Marco occasionally telling me which way to turn so I didn't crash into the wall, he said, "Say, do you want to walk around the deck?"

I chewed my lower lip. "Don't you think people will stare?" I asked. "I mean-"

"That won't be a problem." Marco said. "People generally listen to me on this crew. Being a commander does give you some influence."

"Oh." I said. "Uh, do you think we can wait until I get these... catheters out of my arms first?"

Marco was silent for a second. Then, he said, "Oh, sorry. I nodded. I'll go and talk to the doctors and see when you're ready to get those out."

"Hmm..." The doctor said, poking at my arms.

"Ow!" I yelped as he brushed against the needle in my elbow.

"You need to hold still." The doctor said. It was the first thing he had said to me since he came into the room and asked me how I was feeling.

The answer to that question; I felt just fine. Actually, I was starting to get restless. I wanted to get out of this room and wander around. Even if it was a pirate ship. If I stuck to Marco, I figured I wouldn't get lost.

I thought of snapping at the doctor, because I was annoyed, but I just sighed. "Sorry..."

After a few minutes of this, I started to fidget. I started to swing my legs, just for something to do.

"Erhem!" the doctor snapped.

I stopped.

I felt a pinch in my arm, and pulled back. "Ow!"

The doctor sighed. "There you are. That wasn't so bad, was it?" He took a hold of my arm and placed a bandage over my elbow. "You should be good to go now. Just let one of the medical staff know if you experience dizziness or fainting."

I nodded. "Okay."

Marco spoke for the first time since the doctor entered. "Thanks, Jiru."

The door creaked, and shut.

There was a clicking across the floor, and my mattress creaked as Marco sat down next to me. There was a moment of silence. Then, he said, "Wimp."

"Hey!" I snapped. "I can't see what's happening." I paused... "And it hurt."

Marco just chuckled. "Okay, okay, Zia." He stood up, and said, "But still."

"Oh give me a break." I grumbled, holding the bandage.

"Okay!" I hopped off the bed, and stretched. "Okay! I'm ready to get out of here and walk around!" I started forward, and took a few steps before I collided with something hard. "Ow!" I yelped, holding my nose.
Marco chuckled. "You okay, Zia?" he asked.

"I'll live." I said flatly.

"Here," Marco stepped towards me. "You need a guide?"

I nodded slightly, and tentatively reached out and caught his sleeve.

"Okay then, this way."

"So," I asked, "Where are we going?"

Marco paused. "I told you Pops wanted to see you."

I blanched, and chewed my lip nervously. "Um... I dunno..." I said.

Marco chuckled. "Pops is a good man. You've got nothing to worry about."

"He's a famous pirate." I said sarcastically. "What would possibly make me nervous about meeting him?"

"You're talking to me." Marco said, his tone light. "I'm a pretty dangerous pirate."

"You're not making this any easier for me, Marco." I said, frowning.

Marco started forward, and I followed him, careful not to lose my grip on his sleeve. "C'mon." he said. "Let's go."

The deck of the Moby Dick was one of the loudest places I'd ever been. I could barely tell where Marco's voice was coming from because of the sheer volume of voices around me.

Every now and then I would stumble over a rope, or bump into someone, or trip over someone's leg, or just generally make a fool of myself. I found myself apologizing quite a bit, especially to the poor chap whose foot I trod on.

Just after I tripped over yet another piece of rope, I ended up losing my grip on Marco's sleeve, and ended up crashing into someone.

It felt like I'd walked into a wall again.

"You alright there, Kid?" A very deep voice asked.

I took a couple of steps back and gulped. I nodded.

"Jozu!" Marco said. It sounded like he was right beside me, but it was hard to tell. "This is Zia."

The large guy, Jozu, took my hand and shook it up and down. The guy's hand was freaking huge! I could have splayed my fingers out and not been able to touch the base of his fingers!

"Hello." he said,"I'm Jozu. Third division commander."

I raised an eyebrow. I looked up, maybe too high, to where I thought Marco was. "How many divisions are there?" I asked.

"Sixteen." Jozu said. "How many other commanders have you met besides Marco?"

I tapped my forehead. "I met that Hatch guy." I said. "Didn't he say he was a commander?"

"You mean Thatch." Marco said.

"I spoke to him last night." Jozu said. "He seemed miffed about something."

That's when I decided to pipe up. "Maybe it's because of what I said. By the way, what does over-"

"Okay!" Marco said, steering me away. "Pops is waiting, and we don't want to keep him too long. Jozu, if you want to come, come with, but we gotta go!"

Marco started dragging me towards wherever we were going a little more enthusiastically.

"I didn't finish asking my question!" I complained.

"I'll explain later." Marco said. He sounded a bit uncomfortable. He stopped after a little while longer.

I kept walking and walked right into Marco's back. "Ouch!" I muttered, wrinkling my nose against the pain.

"Okay," Marco said, putting his hand on my shoulder, "here we are."

During the walk to... wherever we were going, I was starting to feel a little less nervous about this, you know, maybe Whitebeard wasn't going to be as bad as I thought, if he was anything like the few of his crew that I had met. But even after all that, I was really nervous now. I wondered how much energy it would take me to dig my heels into the deck.

"Well," Marco said, taking a deep breath. "You ready?"

"About as ready as I am to jump overboard." I said.

Marco patted my shoulder. "Don't worry. I swear no one is going to hurt you."

Why didn't I believe him?

Marco steered me somewhere then let go of my shoulder. Then, he stepped away.

"Marco-" I said uneasily, turning around, trying to find out where he'd gone.

"So! You're Zia?" a deep voice boomed.

I flinched. I felt like a prisoner inside a dark room, listening to a marine officer as they questioned me over a Den-den mushi.

"You don't need to be so nervous." the voice boomed. "I'm Whitebeard."

I shivered. "Ummm..." I said. I shifted from one foot to another, hoping I didn't look as nervous as I felt.

"You're Zia, right?" Whitebeard said.

I nodded slightly. "Cassiopeia D. Zia..." I said quietly.

"Oh." Whitebeard said. "The will of D. Interesting."

I flinched again.

"How old are you, Zia?" he asked. He was making chit-chat? This wasn't what I was expecting.

"Eleven." I said. Normally, I would have asked how old he was, but I didn't really feel comfortable talking to this very dangerous pirate. Besides, Mom had taught me not to ask an adult their age. "I'm eleven."

"Eleven, huh?" Whitebeard said, chuckling. "It's quite the feat that you've made such a recovery, especially at your age."

I blushed, and nodded uncomfortably. "I figured my surviving that was a fluke." Then, I turned around, and asked, "How many people are there here?"

"Sixteen, besides you."

I shivered. The thought of having so many people around me that I couldn't see really gave me the creeps.

"Now, Zia," Whitebeard said, "You are more than welcome to remain on this ship for a while. We haven't had many challengers over the past few months, and this ship is well guarded. Or, if you like, we can take you home. It's your choice."

The thought of home made a lump rise in my throat. I hadn't been there in months. Then, I thought of something. "Hang on a second," I said, a cold feeling creeping up my spine. "What about my parents? What happened to my parents?"

There was a very uncomfortable silence.

I heard Marco clear his throat. "I searched through the wreckage after I pulled you from the wreckage." He said. "I searched around for other survivors, but I couldn't find anyone left alive. I'm sorry Zia. Your parents are gone."

It was almost as if someone had sucked all the air out of my lungs. I started to tremble. The invisible world reeled around me. There was a loud, sickening crack, and a flash of pain, and everything went silent.

Silence fell. Whitebeard and all fifteen commanders stared at the unconscious redheaded kid just lying on the deck.

"Way to go, Marco." Thatch said, frowning and scratching the back of his head. "You could have been a little nicer about it."

"I broke it to her as gently as I could!" Marco protested. "I didn't know she'd faint!"

Then, Marco looked down at Zia. Something was wrong. He bent down and placed his hand on her head. He looked at the blood that lightly coated his fingers. "Oh, shit." He swore. "She hit her head too hard!"

He bent down and picked the kid up off the deck, and quickly turned on his heels. "Jiru, will you come with me?" he asked.
Jiru nodded, and stumbled to follow Marco to the sickbay.

"So, Marco. How's the kid?" Whitebeard asked, sitting forward and resting his forearms on his knees, lacing his fingers.

Marco sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Jiru and Izo are looking after her in sickbay." He said. "I seriously hoped I could take her out of sickbay for one day without her getting herself hurt. Guess it was too much to ask." He looked up to Whitebeard. "So, Pops, what should we do now?"

"What should we do?"

Marco frowned, and sat down, cross-legged. "I thought she might have some extended family somewhere that we could bring her to. But I'm starting to get the feeling that she might not. And what then?"

Whitebeard looked pensive. "Hm. That's a very good point. She might not have anywhere to go." Then he was silent.

"What are you thinking, Pops?" Marco asked.

Finally, Whitebeard sighed. "I'll need to give this a bit more thought. Marco, I'd like you to keep an eye on her for the next little while."

Marco nodded. "Of course. But Pops, if you're considering what I think you are-"

"Marco. I haven't decide anything yet, but I would like you to take her under your wing for the moment."

Marco decided not to argue the point further. "Yeah. I'll do that." With that, he stood up, and made his way back to sickbay.

When Marco walked out on deck, he gasped.

Zia was lying on her back with her arms behind her head, out in the middle of the deck, her eyes fixed upward.

"Zia!" he said, walking up to her and sitting down beside her. "What are you doing out here? You shouldn't be out of bed yet!"

"I wanted to see the stars." she said, not turning to him. "I figured I could be closer to Mom and Dad too..."

Marco sighed. He flopped down on his back. "Zia... I don't know what to say."

Zia's eyes sparkled with tears. "Marco...?" she asked, still not taking her eyes off the sky. "Where are your parents?"

Marco sighed. "My mother's dead." he said. "Died when I was really young. I haven't thought about my old man since I was fourteen. Dad was a businessman. Ma worked odd jobs. She died of sickness and stress when I was thirteen. Dad didn't even lift a finger to help me after Ma died. I couldn't stand it anymore. I ran away from home when I was fourteen. Pops took me under his wing the next year. Been here ever since."

"Do you ever miss them?" she asked.

Marco shrugged. "Sometimes, though just my ma. I couldn't care less about the man who didn't do a thing for us." He thought for a second. "What were you and your folks doing out at sea, anyway?"

Zia nodded slightly. "My dad was the head of his own cruise ship. The Patience. Patience was Dad's pride and hardly ever spent a moment on dry land; he was always out on his ship. Mom was the head chef on the patience. She was the best cook ever." She swallowed hard. "The day they died..." she said. "It was my birthday. We were in the middle of a cruise. I was complaining that we never spent my birthday together. We were always on a cruise... The last thing I ever said to them was some angry words. I just kept saying to myself that I hated them. If I'd known that would be the last time I'd ever speak to them..." A tear streaked down her cheek.

Marco put his hand on her shoulder. Now he was really at a loss for words. He had never been very good with kids. "I... I don't know what to say." he said.

"Marco?" she asked.

"Hmm?"

"I thought I heard you call Whitebeard 'Pops'."

He nodded. "Yeah. Everyone on the crew calls him that."

"Why?"

Marco smiled. "Because he considers his crew his sons. We're all just a bunch of strays here. This crew is a big family."

Zia frowned slightly. "Why would a bunch of pirates call each other family? Pirates sail the seas, raiding cargo ships, killing innocent people and stealing treasure. If a pirate could get his hands on a bit of gold, he'd throw his crew mates to the sharks. But you and the rest of the people I've met don't even seem like pirates to me. You're all so nice."

Marco smiled sadly. "We're not that kind of crew, Zia." he said, ruffling her hair. "Pops isn't into treasure, really. And we all look out for each other. We're a family. It makes us feel good, whether Pops means it or not."

Zia was silent for a long time afterward.

Marco shifted his weight so he was still in a comfortable position, but could see the kid out of the corner of his eye.

Zia tilted her head towards him. "Can you point my hand up towards the north?" she asked, pointing towards the sky.

Marco nodded and took her hand, pointing it towards the north.

Zia smiled. She pointed slightly above. "That's Draco." she said. She pointed to the left. "That's the big dipper over there. There's the North Star, Polaris. Down there's Cassiopeia, the constellation my family's named after. That one that looks like a box is Pegasus."

"You sure know a lot about the stars." Marco said, impressed that the kid could remember all those names.

"I'm a stargazer... Or I used to be." she said. "I love the stars. It's kinda like a reminder of how small we really are. Even the sea is only so big."

Marco nodded. He knew the kid was right.

"Hey, Marco...?" she asked after a while. "If you were a constellation, which one would you be?"

Marco thought for a second. "I think I'd be pegasus." he said. "I like winged animals that fly free."

Zia smiled.

"How about you?" he asked.

Zia sighed deeply. "I would be the North Star. I love that star. It's always in the north. Always in one place, there to show you the way home." She fell silent after that. She shifted onto her right side, with her back to him. "Either that, or Draco. It would be cool to breathe fire."

Marco chuckled quietly. "That's fair."

Zia fell silent after that, relaxing a bit.

Marco didn't feel inclined to break that silence for a while. Finally, he decided to ask.

"Do you know any other constellations?"

Zia was still quiet. She didn't even give any sign of acknowledgement.

"Zia?" he asked, shaking her shoulder. Then he stopped.

Zia had fallen asleep.

Marco sighed, and stood up. He gently picked the kid up and made his way to sickbay.

When he was almost there, when Zia woke up.

She kicked and struggled. "Ah!"

"Hey, easy Zia..." he said.

She relaxed a bit against his arm. "Marco..." she said. "What's going on?"

"You fell asleep." he said. "I thought you'd be better off if you were back in your room."

"You can put me down." Zia said. "I can walk on my own."

"It's fine." Marco said, kicking open the door. "We're here anyway."

He walked over and placed Zia on the bed.

She fumbled with the covers and crawled under them. She pulled the covers up to her neck and buried her face in the pillow. "I hate this..." she said sadly.

Marco stepped back a second. "Being... blind?" he asked tentatively.

Zia nodded, half her face hidden in her pillow. "I feel horrible. I feel disoriented and confused all the time! This stinks! I hate being blind! I want to see the stars, and the sun on the waves, and the clouds and the gulls on the wing... And I want to see you."

Marco's breath hitched. He hadn't realised how much blindness had distressed this kid.

Zia dug her fingers into the fabric of her sheets. "I mean, you guys have been so nice to me. You saved my life for crying out loud! And if I had sight, I wouldn't be able to pick you out in a crowd! I- It's disgraceful!"

Marco put his hand on her shoulder. "Hey, don't worry about that. Take a deep breath, and try to get some sleep." He turned and started for the door. "Good night, Zia."

Zia sniffed, and pulled the covers over her head. "G'night..." she said, her voice muffled.

Marco stepped out on deck and quietly closed the door behind him. Then he looked up and frowned at the overcast sky.