Finally finished this! This story really grew out of proportion. Never again let me estimate the length of my stories, alright?
Also, I wanted to let you guys know that I'll probably disappear for the next few months. I'll be back for the One Piece Big Bang, but probably no sooner than that.
Special thanks to lunarshores for beta-ing this story!
Marco didn't tell anyone about what had happened. He acted like he usually did- he told off people who were causing trouble, and basically tried to keep everything on the ship in order. Breakfast wasn't an interesting affair, not since Thatch, Ace, and Oyaji had died. It was far, far quieter, and Marco had to admit that the food used to be much better. Not that he blamed the cooks. None of the crew had gotten over their captain's and brothers' deaths. They probably never would. Marco knew that he wouldn't.
Everything was so much quieter now. There was no Thatch to mess with anyone by playing pranks on them, no Ace to fall into the ocean when he had a narcolepsy attack, no Oyaji to yell at for drinking alcohol despite his deteriorating health.
It was amazing how much could change, how everything could be completely and utterly destroyed by a single person. Marco felt a wave of grief wash over him so strong that it threatened to bring him to his knees.
In order to distract himself, he went back to his room to do some paperwork. Being the captain of one of the strongest crews came with lots of responsibilities, after all. Responsibilities that he had hoped he'd never have to take on. It was only now that he realized how foolish his hopes had been.
Nothing else weird happened over the course of the day. Marco was starting to think that the candles lighting had been a dream. He didn't move from his desk until the late evening. He was hungry, not having eaten for the whole day, but he didn't feel like getting up to go and get something to eat. Instead, he went to take a quick shower before getting ready to go to bed.
Sleep came to him easily, seeing as he had barely gotten any the night before.
At 3 AM, it fled just as easily as it had come.
The candles were alight again.
This night, and the next, and the one after, too.
It kept up for a whole week.
Every single day, Marco had to face comments from his crew about his exhaustion and how he should try to get some more rest. He never told anyone about the candles, no matter how much he was tempted to. Once, he had tried sleeping in a different room (Thatch's old room), in hopes that he would finally be able to get a good night's sleep.
Unfortunately, there were candles in there as well. And when these, too, were set alight, Marco decided that he might as well sleep in his own bed. He had tried putting the candles somewhere else. He left them in Izo's room, once (he hadn't answered his brother's questions as to why he was doing it), but at 3 AM they were back in his room. When he'd approached Izo in the morning in an attempt to get some sort of explanation, Izo said that he had no idea as to how it happened, and claimed to have thought that Marco took them back sometime during the night.
After the week was over, it stopped.
Marco was finally able to get some rest.
He came up to dinner (because he had slept through both breakfast and lunch) that evening in an unexpectedly good mood.
"Marco…" someone behind him whispered. Marco whirled around to face them.
Only to come face-to-face with nothing but thin air. He blinked in surprise and wearily began the long walk to the mess hall. He could've sworn that that had been Ace's voice.
At dinner, he tried to act normal. He really did his best. Of course, as usual, Izo saw through everything. Thankfully, he didn't comment on it.
Dinner went by in a flash. They talked about things that had happened during the last few days. No one mentioned the war. It had turned into sort of a taboo topic.
By the time Marco finished eating, the mess hall was almost empty. He left his dishes in a large container in the kitchen and left. As he was about to enter his room, he heard footsteps at the end of the hallway. Intrigued, and slightly anxious, he turned his head to the side in order to get a look.
He saw someone disappear around the corner.
He could have sworn that that someone was Ace. With a slight pang in his chest, Marco rushed forward. He rounded the corner-
-only to crash into Izo, sending them both sprawling to the ground. Marco looked up and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly when he saw his brother glaring at him.
"Sorry, Izo. I could've sworn I saw-" he broke off. No way in hell was he going to tell his brother about his hallucinations. Izo's expression morphed from annoyance to curiosity.
"Who did you think that you saw?" he asked. Marco stood up first, then reached out his hand to help Izo up as well. He didn't answer the question. Unfortunately for Marco, Izo was having none of that. "Marco, I want to know who you thought that you saw." Once again, Marco didn't say anything. He turned on his heel and started walking back towards his room.
Only to have his wrist grabbed and be pulled the other way. He stumbled through the hallway behind Izo, until they finally came to his room. Izo pushed the door open, causing it to slam into the wall and pulled Marco inside. He stood in the middle of the room, watching Izo close and lock the door.
"What's been going on with you this past week, Marco? You've been acting really strange. I'm worried about you." Marco walked over to Izo's be and sat down. He buried his face in his hands.
"I don't know what's been happening, Izo." He looked up, only to see Izo glaring at him. "I'm serious! I have no idea what's been going on!" Izo looked at him skeptically.
"How about you start at the beginning?" Marco groaned.
"About a week ago, the candles in my room were set alight. It woke me up, but there was no one there." Izo raised his eyebrows.
"No one?" he repeated. Marco shook his head.
"I checked everywhere. Then, I tried putting the candles out. They just lit up again. And it happened six more times after that." Izo's eyebrows were drawn together.
"Candles don't just light themselves, Marco. Are you absolutely sure that you weren't dreaming?" he asked.
"Yes! It happens every night at 3 AM, like clockwork, and lastes half an hour. And then when I was going to get dinner today, I could've sworn that I heard Ace say my name. And just now, I thought that I sawhim." Izo's eyes grew cold.
"That's not funny, Marco."
"I'm not trying to be funny! I swear that's what happened! I have no idea what's going on!" A sudden thought struck him. "Didn't 3 AM used to be Ace's favorite time of day?" Izo didn't answer. They were both silent for a while.
"...I think that you should get some rest, Marco. You're obviously not feeling well." When Marco moved to protest, Izo raised a hand to stop him. "Just go to sleep, Marco. We'll talk about this when you get some rest. A lack of sleep is known to give people hallucinations," he muttered.
Marco did as he was told. Maybe Izo was right, and he just needed some rest. It's not like he was going crazy or anything...right?
He threw his aching body onto the soft mattress below, sighing in pleasure. He closed his eyes and tried not to think.
Marco groaned when the noises from above reached his ears. His muddled mind took a while to comprehend the fact that his crew (Crew, not crewmates. That would take a while to get used to…) was shouting. If Marco had to guess, he'd say that they were being attacked by the marines or something. In which case, he should probably be up there, fighting alongside them, instead of sleeping. He didn't want to get up, though. He decided to just lie in bed for a few more minutes. They could probably take care of themselves for a bit.
But there were no cannons. No gunshots. Just shouts. Marco shot up in bed. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and quickly got dressed. It didn't take long before he was up on deck.
If he was to describe what was happening in one word, he would choose the term "chaos". Because, really, it couldn't be described as anything else. Partly untied sails were flying around everywhere, and the deck was covered in soapy water, rolling buckets, brooms, and mops. Some movement to his left drew his attention. A paintbrush was floating in thin air. As Marco watched, it dipped down, into a bucket full of red paint, and floated back up. It got closer to the wall and started painting.
'Boo!'
Marco had no idea how he should react to that. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief. When the scene before him didn't disappear, he looked around for someone who could explain what was going on but soon got distracted by someone shouting obscenities.
Izo. And he was holding a chunk of black hair. A quick glance at his head told Marco that it was, in fact, his own hair that he was holding.
Someone was going to die…
And Marco didn't want to be there when it happened. He brusquely turned on his heel to go back to his room, but someone grabbed his wrist. He shook it off and faced the person standing behind him.
Ace.
No. Marco pretended that he hadn't seen him (because Marco knew that he wasn't real. It was impossible!) and practically ran back to the door that led below deck.
He froze when someone wrapped their arms around his torso.
"Marco…" Ace's voice whispered. It was just like before. He would turn around. No one would be there. He was just dreaming. Or seeing things. That had to be it… right?
Wrong.
"A-Ace?" Someone asked. Marco looked at the person who spoke. Izo. Why did it always have to be Izo?
Marco was released. He stumbled forward a few steps, but didn't turn around now that he had confirmation that it was, in fact, Ace. He couldn't bear to see that face… Ace's face… again... He just couldn't. It hurt too much.
"H-how are you-" Out of the corner of his eye, Marco saw Izo slowly shake his head in denial. Then, he lifted his head to look at Marco. Marco wanted to run, to get away. But he couldn't. He was the captain of this ship now. He had to… he had to do something.
He felt a pang in his chest when he saw Ace. Speaking of which, Ace's chest was unmarred, as if he'd never gotten hit by-
Nope. Marco wasn't gonna go there.
"Alive? I'm not, Izo."
That little bit of hope that had unknowingly started budding in his chest was crushed with the words Ace spoke. Ace's gray eyes looked up at him through thick black lashes.
"I…I'm not really sure, but… I think that I might be… a ghost." Marco couldn't believe his ears. He chuckled bitterly.
"That's impossible. Ghosts aren't real. You're not really here." He couldn't be. He just couldn't. Seeing Ace brought back too many memories, both pleasant and not. Memories that Marco wanted only to forget about, in hopes that the hole in his chest he felt after his lover's (because yes, Ace had been, in fact, his lover) death.
Ace's eyes widened, hurt by Marco's words.
"But I'm here, Marco. I really am." The whole deck had gone silent by now, everyone looking at them, mouths open. Marco shook his head, eyes slipping shut to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill.
Marco reached out his hand to touch Ace.
It went right through his body.
Ace smiled sadly.
"I don't think that's how this works." Ace looked at the rest of the crew, who had surrounded them by now. He raised his hand in a lazy wave.
"Yo!"
No one spoke. Izo, having managed to compose himself by now, went up to Marco and grabbed his wrist.
"Come on, Ace. We have some things to discuss." Marco didn't look back at the gho- at Ace. He blindly stumbled after Izo, who led him through the twisting halls of the Moby Dick. He kept his gaze on the floor the whole way, only lifting it when they stopped before a door. His door. Izo put his hand on the doorknob and opened it. Ace was already there, sitting on Marco's bed and swinging his legs back and forth. Marco looked away. Izo pulled him over to the chair and made him sit on it. He slowly walked up to Ace. Ace moved to the side to make room for him on the bed (clearly he still retained some habits from back when he was humen). Izo sat down, not once taking his eyes off of the ghost.
Ghost.
Marco snorted mentally. No one would ever convince him that this wasn't a dream. Only his mind could come up with such a horrendous way to torture him. After a few moments of everyone just wearily observing each other, Izo spoke.
"How...how long have you been like this?" He gestured to Ace's "body". Ace hummed.
"About a month, I think." He turned to look at Marco with a slightly pained look in his eyes. "I tried to let you know that I was here. I lit the candles and stuff, but I think I creeped you out. Sorry about that." He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. Marco sighed. At least that proved that he wasn't crazy. He nodded at the apologetic expression on Izo's face.
After a few minutes, Izo decided to go up to the deck and tell the rest of the crew what was going on, leaving Marco alone with Ace. The silence was very uncomfortable and made Marco want to leave the room.
"So… have you found someone yet?" Marco looked up at the question. Ace's face was painted with uncertainty.
"No. God no, Ace. I can't…" 'Can't imagine being with someone else, can't imagine loving someone as much as I loved you...' That sentence had so many possible endings.
Ace's face showed relief, and, for the first time, he smiled.
"That's… that's good. It's selfish of me but…" Marco nodded his head in understanding.
"It's alright." He kept his eyes on Ace's now still form, scared that if he looked away, Ace would disappear once again.
"What's it like being a captain?" Ace asked. Marco smiled bitterly.
"Not that nice. I- I wish Oyaji was here…" he admitted. Ace bit his lip. "D- did you see them? Thatch and Oyaji? In the afterlife?" Ace shook his head sadly.
"No. When I died, I was surrounded by this blackness. It was so cold. I have no idea how long I was there, but I remember having this weird feeling one moment, like I was being sucked into a vacuum , and then I ended up here. On the Moby Dick. About a month ago, actually. You guys were all eating dinner. I tried to talk to you, but you didn't react. Neither did anyone else. It was as though you couldn't see me. After a little while I came to the conclusion that I must be a ghost or something. It all seemed so surreal at the time, but now, I think I might've just gotten used to it. Plus, I still had my fire! It took a while to figure out how to light stuff up, and it was only last night that I finally figured out how to lift things. You can see the fruits of my labor up on deck, if you want to," Ace grinned. Marco couldn't help but to return the smile.
"You really gave us quite a scare, you know. I advise that you don't touch Izo's hair again." Ace laughed.
"That was an accident, though," he tried to explain himself, but Marco was having none of it.
"Sure it was. I guess the message written in red paint was an accident, too. And so were the mops and brooms and whatever else you managed to do," he said sarcastically. Ace pouted.
"Fine, believe what you want. Just be happy I didn't shave the rest of your hair, old man." Marco glared at Ace, who was starting to slowly disappear.
"Careful, brat."
Everything calmed down over the next few days. The crew was glad to have Ace back, and Ace looked happy. Well, he did when they could see him which, unfortunately, wasn't all the time. It drained him of his energy if he kept himself visible for too long. But it was still more than they could ever have hoped for.
Everything was finally starting to look up!
Marco sat down by the railing and opened the book he'd brought with him. It was a fantasy novel he'd had forever, and it was one of his favorites. It always helped him calm down, especially now, with Ace back on board. He and Haruta were starting to play pranks on people once again, and, after waking up to find all of his important documents missing, Marco decided that he needed some time to calm down before he was able to look at either of them without feeling the irresistible urge to rip their heads off.
So, with the wind running it's fingers through his hair, and the warm rays of the sun caressing his skin, Marco read.
He must've fallen asleep at some point, because when he opened his eyes, the sun was high up in the sky and there were dark, almost black, clouds rolling in. He had no idea what had woken him up. At first, he thought that it might've been his body reacting to the changes in pressure, but he changed his mind when he heard Izo's furious voice ringing across the deck. He stood up shakily, and brushed the dust from his clothes before slowly making his way in Izo's general direction.
What he saw was really surprising. Izo was hanging from the main mast by his ankle. His arms, which were crossed on his chest, only served to accentuate the infuriated expression on his face. His kimono was fluttering in the wind, the bright colors standing out starkly against the rapidly darkening sky.
"Marco! Tell that dumbass boyfriend of yours to get me down from here this instance!" Marco took his surprised gaze off Marco and looked around at the gathering crowd. No Ace, but he saw Haruta. In the beginning, he didn't know what had drawn his attention to her, but the longer he kept his eyes on her, the more he had the feeling that something was wrong.
Her lips were moving, but there was no one near her. At least, no one he could see.
Looks like he just found Ace.
Marco strolled across the deck, until he was right behind Haruta and Ace. It didn't look as if either of them had seen him. Haruta almost jumped out of her skin when he the weight of his hand landed on her shoulder. She turned around stiffly, a shaky smile making its way onto her face.
"Can I help you, Marco?" Her eyes darted to the left. Marco's followed.
"You and Ace are going to get Izo down from there, or so help me, I'll-" he was cut off by a disembodied voice.
"Awww, come on Marco, don't be such a spoilsport! Besides, it's his fault he's up there in the first place." Marco raised an eyebrow skeptically at this, head turned in the direction the words had come from.
"What did he do?" He didn't get an answer.
Something crashed to the deck. Marco looked up to see Izo lying on the wooden deck of the ship, unconscious.
"Shit," he muttered, before breaking into a run to get to his unmoving brother's side. His heart was beating so hard, that he for a split second he thought that it was going to burst from his chest. Marco reached his hand out to check for a pulse.
Izo was alive. Sighing in relief, he called for a doctor. It wasn't long before they took Izo down to the infirmary. Marco watched them go, before turning to Ace and Haruta. Their expressions were a mix of guilt and horror. Marco stormed over to them. He grabbed Haruta's wrist and started walking to his room, pulling her along and trusting Ace to follow after them. He pulled her inside and locked the door to his room. He caught a short glimpse of Ace passing through the door, but paid him no further attention. He waited until both of his siblings were seated on his bed and ran his hand through his hair. He stood in front of them, his glare murderous, and unable to make eye contact.
"What the hell were the two of you thinking?!" he shouted. Neither of them spoke. Marco took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. When he next spoke, his voice was much softer. "Izo could have gotten seriously hurt." He wouldn't say died. No. Just no. "Why on Earth would you do such a thing?" His eyes flickered from Haruta to Ace and back again. Ace lifted his head.
"Don't blame Haruta. It was my idea." His voice was almost inaudible, and he seemed to be getting more transparent by the second. Marco cocked his head to the side in a silent question. "I- There was something I really needed to know, and he wouldn't tell me."
"So you decided to hang him from the mast? Right before a storm?" Marco couldn't keep the fury from seeping into his words.
"I didn't know there was going to be a storm, I swear! I didn't think that Izo would be in any danger!" Marco growled.
"It looks to me as though you didn't think at all." Haruta squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. Marco turned to face her. "Why didn't you stop him?"
"Because nothing was supposed to go wrong. It was all carefully planned out. Well, except for the storm." Marco ran his hand through his hair again. He was going to go completely bald at this rate.
"You're both going to go and apologize to Izo when he wakes up." Ace and Haruta both nodded their heads. "And you're going to clean the deck, twice a day, every day, for the next month." He cut Ace off when he opened his mouth to protest. "Just because you're a ghost doesn't mean you can't lift anything, as you so kindly explained to us all last week. Now get out of here and get to work. I'm going to go check up on Izo."
As it turned out, nothing serious had happened. Izo had gotten a concussion, but none of his bones had been broken. After a few days he was ready to leave the infirmary, just in time to go visit the stores on the next island.
Marco was currently watching Izo rush from one shop to the next. They both held numerous bags, many of which were so heavy that Marco was certain that his arms were going to fall off.
Ace was with them, floating around here and there, appearing briefly to scare the living daylights out of the villagers, and then disappearing again. Marco couldn't hold back a smile when Ace repeatedly poked a drunk man who'd just walked out of a nearby bar. Both he and Izo (who had momentarily stopped darting around) looked on in amusement as a scuffle broke out.
"How about we take a short break, Izo?" Marco suggested. His brother sighed, but nodded.
"I'm running out of money, anyway. We might as well go back to the ship after a drink or two." Marco was almost scared to push open the door to the bar- the poor thing looked so old and worn, that it might break any second. Thankfully, nothing like that happened. They entered, Marco almost tripping over someone's leg and Izo trailing gracefully behind him. The place was small and dark, and it reeked of alcohol. There were only a few people around, and they paid no attention to the newcomers. Marco and Izo took a seat at the only empty table they could find. Marco groaned as he rubbed his hands, the bags he'd just put down having left red indentations in his skin.
"May I take your order?" a waiter asked, appearing out of nowhere.
Marco snorted mentally. Out of nowhere. Were ghosts the only thing occupying his thoughts lately?
"Yes," Izo spoke, coincidentally answering Marco's question as well. "I'd like a Bloody Mary, and my friend will have a bottle of rum, if you don't mind." When the waiter had left, Izo put his elbows on the table and leaned forward.
"So… Marco. How are you holding up?" Marco shrugged wearily. It was never good when Izo decided to start asking questions.
"I'm fine, Izo. I think I should be asking you that. After all, you're the one who almost got his head smashed in." Izo frowned and tapped his well-manicured nails against the table.
"That's not important right now. So listen, I've been doing some reading lately, and-" Izo broke off when Ace materialized next to him.
"Hey, guys! You'll never believe what I found out!" Marco looked around quickly to make sure no one had seen Ace. The only person who looked like they might've caught a glimpse of the supernatural looked to be in no state to be making accusations. His reddened cheeks and rotten breath that Marco could smell all the way at his table (he really hated his heightened sense of smell sometimes) were a testament to that.
"What would that be, Ace?" Izo asked, but the dull glare he shot Marco told him that they'd get back to the topic later. Marco zoned out when Ace started talking about something or another he'd heard floating around, the soothing sound of his voice slowly threatening to lull him to sleep. Not that he would mind, though. His sleep habits hadn't gotten better. In fact, he spent most nights talking to Ace. It was amazing to have his lover back, despite the fact that they couldn't touch each other. It had only happened once before, when Ace had revealed himself, but it had never happened again. They tried not to let it get them down, but sometimes, Marco felt this… this wave of longing,for lack of better words, sweep over him, and nothing he did could chase it away. Those moments were the worst. It was as though his subconscious was trying to tell him that if Ace was really there, he should be able to touch him, to feel him, and the fact that he couldn't meant that Ace wasn't.
Just thinking about it made Marco feel horrible.
He was snapped out of his thoughts by Izo waving a hand before his face. He shook his head slightly and raised his eyebrows.
"I said I was going to go back to the ship. Are you going to stay here?" Marco looked out a nearby window at the sky. Soft red and orange hues were slowly starting to seep into the slowly darkening fabric of blue.
"I think I'll stay for a while." When Izo left with the bags, he opened his bottle of rum, which the waiter must've brought while he'd been out of it, and took a sip. It burned in his throat.
It felt good.
Marco leaned back and took another swig of the alcohol. He didn't bother making conversation with Ace, who had once again disappeared, but he could still somehow feel his presence. He was just about to down the remainder of the rum, when he saw someone approach him from the corner of his eye. His hand clenched around the glass bottle, instinctively ready for a fight, but nothing like that happened.
The woman sat down on the chair Izo had been occupying only minutes before.
"Hello," she said, smiling sweetly. Marco let his eyes rake over her body. Her brown hair fell to her waist in tight curls, and her grey eyes that reminded him so much of Ace's gazed at him flirtatiously through dark black eyelashes. Marco's eyes slipped lower, to gaze at her indecently short dress, before darting back to her lips. It was only now that he noticed her flushed skin. It told him all that he needed to know. She was tipsy, if not drunk.
"Hello," he answered. She smiled at him and leaned forward, allowing her dress to uncover more skin.
"How would you like to… go someplace else with me?" she asked, drawing circles on the table with her pointer finger. Marco let his eyes follow the moving appendage. He slowly took his left hand off the bottle he was holding and leaned back in his chair, discreetly pushing his chair a bit further back.
"How about I-" Marco broke off when the bottle he'd just let go of started floating. The woman before him didn't seem to notice, or maybe she'd just opted to ignore it.
Ace.
Marco didn't even have the time to shout out a warning before contents of the bottle (or what was left of them) were spilled over her head, soaking into her hair and dress. The bottle fell to the floor, shattering upon impact. The glass shot off in every direction, littering the brown wood with dark green crystals. He looked over her shoulder to see Ace standing behind her, fury evident in his expression. He turned around and walked out the door.
"What the fu-" Marco didn't bother listening to her. He quickly stood, and left some money on the table, before practically running out of the bar after Ace. The fresh air cleared his mind. He looked around in search of Ace.
Nothing.
He started calling his name.
Still nothing. Marco ran his hand through his hair, lips twisting in displeasure when he saw that he'd pulled out a few hairs.
No use fretting about that now.
Marco spent almost half an hour looking for Ace, and didn't find a trace of him anywhere. Marco returned to the ship, now thoroughly worried. He avoided anyone who might be up on deck at this hour by sticking to the darkest corners of the Moby Dick and slowly made his way to his room. He walked in and shut the door behind him. He leaned his back against the wood and slid down to sit on the floor.
"Marco." Marco looked up to see Ace sitting, cross-legged, in front of him. His eyes widened in surprise, before narrowing once more when he remembered just why he'd been looking for Ace in the first place.
"What the hell, Ace?! Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" When Marco saw that Ace was avoiding eye contact, his voice softened. "Where were you?" he asked.
"I- I needed to cool my head. I'm so, so sorry Marco! I have no idea how it happened. I'm really sorry." Marco pursed his lips when he was reminded of the accident in the bar.
"What happened?"
"I don't know. I just got really mad when I saw that that wh- that the woman was flirting with you, I didn't think. I'm sorry," Ace apologized. Marco sighed. He leaned his head back against the door and sighed. "Are you mad at me?" Ace's words were nothing more than a whisper. At first, Marco had no idea whether they'd been spoken aloud, or were just a figment of his imagination. He opened his eyes to see Ace looking at him, anxiety written all over his face.
"No, I'm not mad. Not anymore."
"I'm sorry." Marco cracked a smile.
"Stop apologizing."
"Sorry."
When Marco saw the marine vessel nearing the Moby Dick he sighed. Every once in a while they tried to attack the remnants of the Whitebeard Pirates, thankfully not posing much of a threat. After all, what could a Vice Admiral or two do against so many seasoned pirates?
Nothing.
They really should have known better by now.
Someone sounded the alarm, and doors opened all across the deck as the crew started spilling out onto the deck to see who in their right mind was stupid enough to attack them. Upon catching sight of the marine ship, most faces split into vicious grins. Marco could have sworn he even heard a few people crack their knuckles.
How stereotypical.
A quick glance around the deck told him that most of the crew- of his crew- were looking forward to the upcoming fight. Marco didn't blame them for that, not at all. He could understand them wanting to get revenge on the people who had cost their father and one of their dearest brothers their lives. A small part of him wanted to do the same, but deep down he knew that it wasn't the marines that were to blame.
It was the world. This dark, twisted world they had the misfortune of living in. Marco shook his head in an attempt to get rid of these thoughts. It would do no good to have his mind on anything other than the battle. Besides, Ace was fine. A little different than he'd been, but Marco was willing to overlook those differences if that meant that he had his lover back. Marco saw someone materialize next to him from the corner of his eye.
Speak of the devil.
"The marines? Nice! I haven't been in a fight since I died!" Marco shot Ace a dull glare, who only shrugged carelessly in response. It seemed that he'd become quite accustomed to being a ghost.
"I really think that you should sit this one out, Ace," Marco warned. Ace looked at him in disbelief.
"Come on, Marco! Don't be such a spoilsport! I can help." Ace floated forward, until he was right in front of Marco. The sunlight passed through his semi-transparent body, painting intricate designs on the wooden deck. Ace leaned forward so that their noses were almost touching. "Please."
"Fine," Marco relented after a few moments of silence. "But make sure that nobody sees you, alright?" Ace grinned, freckles dancing on his cheeks.
"Don't I always?" Ace asked.
"No, you don't," Marco replied, but Ace had disappeared before Marco had been able to voice his answer.
The marine vessel was pulling up next to the Moby Dick, with a Vice Admiral standing in front of the gathered men, many of which looked like they were about to wet their pants. If he had to guess, he'd say that fighting the Whitebeard Pirates was the last thing most of these marines wanted to be doing. Not that Marco cared. They'd still get what was coming to them. His lips twisted into a smirk when the Vice Admiral walked forward to address him.
"Give up, Phoenix! We have you outnumbered!" Marco slowly shook his head, smirk turning into a predatory grin.
"You marines never learn, do you?" That said, he let blue flames engulf his body in a pleasant warmth and shot off into the sky, gaining altitude before heading straight for the Vice Admiral, wings parallel to his body as he gained momentum. His enemy dodged at the last second, and Marco transformed back to his human form as his legs hit the deck with a thud. He wasted no time trying to kick the Vice Admiral's feet from under him, but the man jumped and came at Marco with a sword.
Marco caught the oncoming weapon with bare hand, blood dripping from the laceration and soaking into the sleeve of his jacket before the flames healed it. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a broom floating in midair, whacking any marine that came near it. Ace seemed to be having fun. Marco chuckled as he caught a glimpse of the terrified expression on a passing marine's face, before directing his attention back towards his own opponent.
The man was looking at Marco's hand wide-eyed. Marco tightened his grip on the sword and they both watched it shatter.
"You shouldn't underestimate us," Marco smirked. The Vice Admiral turned his gaze away from the pieces of metal on the deck and looked past Marco.
"I could say the same to you." The second the man raised his hand, a shot rang out. At first, Marco was disoriented. That quickly faded to realization as he was hit with a wave of pain so fierce that it forced him to his knees. He shakily put his hand to his stomach. When he felt a warm liquid ooze through his fingers he drew it away and looked at it.
Red.
It was stained with blood.
But how- Marco didn't get to finish that thought as he felt another bullet pass through his chest, narrowly missing his heart. One of his hands kept pressure on the stomach wound while the other rose to cover his lips as he coughed out blood. It should have been impossible. He should have been able to heal. He should be alright! He wasn't, though, and his vision was quickly starting to fade. He felt the blood flowing sluggishly from his injuries, and bent over in pain.
Somewhere in the distance, through the ringing in his head, he could make out someone shouting his name. Why? Why would they be doing that? He was going to be alright, he always was. He couldn't leave his siblings to fend for themselves, after all. He would be just fine.
But why wasn't he healing?
Ace was going to kill somebody. Preferably a lot of somebodies. When he saw the marine take out a knife from its sheath and raise it over Marco's head, he lunged forward. He had no idea what he was going to do- the only thought running through his head was that he was the only one near enough to stop the marine from killing Marco.
The knife was just about to start his descent when he reached the marine, but instead of passing straight through him like Ace thought he'd do, he was stopped by something. It was like a wall, blocking him from proceeding further. All of a sudden, that wall vanished and Ace felt the world whirl around him. The next thing he knew, he was looking at Marco, who was on his knees before him, the puddle of red surrounding him slowly, but steadily, growing.
Ace seemed… taller, somehow. He tried raising his hand, only to observe that the hand with the knife moved. He blinked in shock, and took a step back, looking around to see what had happened with the Vice Admiral.
He was gone. Just… gone. Ace looked down at the pieces of the sword that were on the ground at his feet. He knelt and picked one up.
He almost dropped it when he caught sight of his reflection in the metal.
The eyes looking back at him were most definitely not his own. Neither was the light brown hair or the scar on his chin.
A grin slowly made its way onto his face as he realized what had happened.
He'd possessed the marine. He'd actually possessed someone!
Ace dropped the shard and raised his head to look at Marco. Upon witnessing his pale complexion, Ace saw red. But it wouldn't do to worry about Marco now, not when there were still so many people around who could hurt him. Out of the corner of his eye (well, not really his eye, but still…) Ace saw a few marines and Izo running towards him.
Getting rid of those marines was the only way Ace could currently think of to annihilate the threat to Marco's life. Ace's grin turned feral, and he took off towards them. The marines looked at each other confused but stood their ground. Ace threw the knife he was holding into the nearest soldier's throat. It fixed itself in his windpipe. The marine shakily lifted his hands to pull the blade out, only serving to shorten his life, as the knife being stuck in his flesh had been staunching the blood flow. His companions observed with shock as the blood fell from his throat like a waterfall, before turning to run off screaming something about how the Vice Admiral had gone mad. Ace didn't care. They would all die. He tuned them out.
Izo pushed his body forward in an attempt to get to the Vice Admiral before he killed Marco. He knew he would be too late, but that didn't stop him from trying. He knew he'd never forgive himself if he didn't.
Not that he'd forgive himself anyway, for letting his brother get injured like this.
His eyes widened when the marine's body was suddenly jerked back, and the hand holding the knife was raised higher. He ignored the rest of the Vice Admiral's odd actions in favor of keeping his mind on the ongoing battle.
Well, until the marine attacked one of his own. At first, Izo had no idea what to think.
"Izo, go take care of Marco!" That was Ace's voice. Coming out of the marine's mouth…
When realization hit, Izo would have laughed, were it not for the situation they were currently in. Upon reaching Marco, Izo dropped to his knees. Marco was breathing, albeit barely, and although he was unconscious, he still had one hand pressed to the injury to his stomach. Izo checked Marco's back. There was no exit wound for either of the two bullets. That meant that they were both still inside Marco's body.
He would have to get them out.
Lips twisting with disgust, Izo rolled up the sleeve of his kimono and pushed his fingers into the stomach wound. He dug around inside until his fingers came in contact with metal, but when he found it, he grabbed it the best he could and tore it out. The blood started flowing with renewed vigor so Izo was quick to start fishing around for the second bullet. He removed it as well, throwing it to the blood-stained wooden boards of the deck.
"Come on, Marco! Wake up!" Apprehension pooling in his stomach, Izo lightly slapped Marco's cheek.
There was no reaction.
"Damn it, Marco! We just lost Oyaji, we can't lose you, too!" Izo raised his bloodied hand to wipe the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. "Not you, too…" Marco couldn't be dead. Not the big brother they always looked up to, not the one person who always looked out for them. Izo wouldn't be able to bear it.
A much bigger and far more calloused hand grabbed his own.
"I'm not going anywhere." Izo looked down, shocked. Marco was weakly smiling up at him. The flames had already started to heal his body. Izo watched in relief as the torn pieces of skin came together and the injuries slowly disappeared.
"M-Marco? Oh, thank God! I thought you were..." Nothing more needed to be said as Marco slowly pushed himself to his feet and looked around the deck.
"Where's Ace?" He asked, brows furrowing. Izo scanned the deck for any sign of their ghostly brother. There were no marines or pirates present either. With a growing sense of foreboding, Izo also stood and started to walk to an open door nearby.
"Maybe they're all below deck?"
Marco followed Izo through the long hallways of the marine ship. At first, neither of them noticed any signs that the fighting had extended down here as well. It was only after a few minutes of walking that Marc noticed specks of blood decorating the walls. The halls grew darker the farther they went.
Then, all of a sudden, they entered a bright room that looked as though it belonged in a horror movie. Detached limbs were strewn all over the room. Marco had no idea how many different bodies they belonged to, but if he had to guess, he'd say a few dozen at least. He took a step forward, grimacing slightly when his sandal got stuck in the pool of blood at his feet.
"Ace?" he called softly, looking around. When he didn't receive an answer, he slowly made his way across the room to another hallway, Izo following behind him, holding his kimono up so that it wouldn't get stained.
"Marco, maybe we should just go back to the ship and wait for Ace there…" Marco shook his head.
"You can leave if you want to, but I'm going to keep looking." Izo sighed.
"I am definitely not going to leave you down here all by yourself."
"Shhh… do you hear that?" Izo raised his eyebrows.
"Sorry, Marco. My hearing's not as good as yours." Marco broke into a run. Izo called for him to slow down, but he didn't pay any attention.
"-surrender! Please, spare me!" Marco sped up, heart beating furiously in his chest.
The moment he saw the room was the moment he wished he'd listened to Izo and gone back to the Moby Dick.
The Vice Admiral was standing in the middle of the room, holding one of his subordinates by his neck. There were a few others sprawled out here and there, bodies mutilated beyond recognition. What really bothered Marco was the fact that the marine's body seemed to slowly be disintegrating. Only the left side of his head was still there, and one of his legs seemed to be disappearing.
"What the-" The Vice Admiral crushed the windpipe of the man he was holding before turning to face Marco. Upon catching sight of him, he immediately put his hands on the sides if his head and closed his eyes. He looked to be in a lot of pain. After a few seconds his eyes snapped open again and he blinked in confusion.
"M-Marco? What are you doing here?" That wasn't right. Marco was certain that he'd just heard Ace's voice.
"Looking for Ace," he replied narrowing his eyes.
"For me? Why would you be looking for…" Realization dawned on the marine's face. Marco, however, wasn't sure what was going on.
"What do you mean, looking for you?" The man's body faded away completely. In his place stood Ace, looking more than slightly disoriented.
"What happened? Where am I?"
"You really don't remember anything?" Marco asked, eyebrows slowly crawling higher onto his forehead. Ace shook his head.
"Only getting really mad 'cuz you'd been hurt, but after that- nothing."
In that case, he didn't remember torturing all those marines. Marco was sure that some of them had deserved it, but still… The Ace he knew would never had gone to such lengths. It unnerved him.
"How about you stay here and get some rest. I need to go talk to Izo." Ace nodded mutely, moving so that he was lying on the bed. His body started slowly disappearing- a testament to how tired he really was. Marco crossed over to the door. Just as he put his hand on the doorknob, he heard Ace's sleepy voice.
"You're alright, though?" Marco smiled softly and turned around.
"I'm fine."
"Good… that's good…"
"It can't keep going on like this, Marco! That's not the Ace we know!" Izo shouted at him.
"Izo, I can't right now." Izo glared.
"Oh yes, you can! We are not going to put this talk off again!" Marco sat down on the floor and leaned back against the wall. Izo towered over him, looking very threatening. It wasn't Marco's first time being on the receiving end of Izo's wrath, but it hadn't happened in a long, long time. A few years, actually. Marco had forgotten how intimidating Izo could be.
"Izo, please!" he tried again, but to no avail. Izo ignored the agony filled words and kept on talking.
"Do you think Ace would have tortured innocent people back when he was alive?" No. Marco knew that Ace had always prefered a quick death to a painful one. "None of us could have done such things to fellow human beings! You saw the state those corpses were in, Marco! What he did was inhumane! It wasn't something the real Ace would have done! He's not acting like the brother we all knew and loved! He's a completely different person!"
"But, Izo…"
"No, Marco! Do you think that this is only painful for you? It's not! I'm suffering, too. I don't want to see Ace go either. Hell, none of us do! But it can't keep going like this, Marco. It just can't. Ace was… is dead. He should stay that way. I don't want to see my brother turn into a monster…" Tears were beginning to fall from Izo's eyes, ruining his makeup and leaving dirty smudges on his cheeks.
"He should be able to rest in peace!"
Marco watched as Ace floated closer to him and Izo. He felt a pang in his heart as he saw his happy smile.
It would be the last time he'd ever see it.
"Why do I have to stay here while you guys go and explore?" Ace whined, coming to a stop right in front of him. Marco forced a smile onto his face.
"It's just this once, Ace. Besides, some of the guys were going on about how we're keeping you all to ourselves. Go talk to the crew. Throw a party. Just have some fun. We'll be back before you know it." On an impulse, Marco reached out to touch Ace's hand.
His eyes widened when, instead of passing through them, his fingers intertwined with Ace's.
"H-how…?" Ace muttered. Marco shook his head, smile becoming less forced as he pulled Ace closer to him to wrap him in a warm embrace. Ace eagerly returned the hug, connecting his hands behind Marco's back. He leaned his head up for a kiss and Marco quickly gave in to his demands. As their lips touched, Marco put a hand behind Ace's head and used it to pull him closer.
Then, the magical moment was over. Marco's hands passed right through Ace like through thin air.
"I love you." Marco whispered in Ace's ear.
"I love you, too." Marco took one last good look at Ace's face, committing it to memory, before turning and leaving him behind.
After this was over, Ace would no longer be a part of his life.
"Come on, Izo. Let's go."
It was small, but it was beautiful. Of course it was. Marco would never have let Ace be buried in something that wasn't. He knelt before it and longingly brushed his hand over the top of it, sweeping away the dust. Izo walked up to him and handed him a shovel. He didn't say anything, but the look he gave Marco clearly stated that they needed to get to work. Marco took the shovel and stood up.
They started digging.
It didn't take them as long as they thought it would to dig up Ace's grave. The whole process seemed to be over in minutes when, in fact, about half an hour had passed.
Marco watched as Izo pulled up the coffin, not moving a finger to help him. He couldn't, not when he was so close to breaking. Izo pried open the top of the coffin. It opened and fell to the ground with a thud. Even from where he was standing, Marco could see Ace's body in the coffin. It was clean now, as none of them had wanted Ace to be buried looking the way he did at Marineford, covered in blood and rags. Time had taken its toll on it, and a nasty smell was starting to permeate the air.
It seemed surreal. Ace was dead, but Marco had just seen him back at the Moby Dick, more or less alive. It should have been impossible.
Marco moved forward when Izo brought out the salt and the matches.
"Do you…?" he started, but Marco didn't allow him to finish. He took the items from Izo and knelt on the ground next to the coffin, uncaring of the stench of death. He poured some salt onto his hand, then sprinkled it over Ace's body. He wiped his hand on his capris to brush off the few grains that were stuck to it, then went to grab the matches.
This was it. He would send Ace's spirit to the afterlife.
Marco would never, ever be able to count the freckles on his face. He wouldn't be able to laugh with him, nor cry with him.
He would never see him again.
And the thought of it made Marco want to die as well.
Hands shaking, Marco struck a match against the side if the box. It lit up in hues of bright orange, yellow, and red.
Fire.
That had been the thing that had started this. Now, it was going to end it all.
I'm so sorry, Ace. I love you.
Marco raised his hand over the coffin and let the match go. It painted bright designs in the air, but unfortunately, those quickly vanished. As soon as it hit the corpse, the whole thing was set alight with such a ferocity that would have caused any other person to back away. Not Marco, though. He had it in his mind to see this through to the very end.
He knelt in the grass long after the fire went out, dimly aware of Izo silently crying behind him.
"It's over now. He's gone."
Marco couldn't hold himself together anymore, now only a shell of a human being.
He finally broke.
Thank you for reading, and I hope that you enjoyed this!
Don't you guys just love tragic endings? "ψ(｀∇´)ψ
If you see any missing paragraphs or something doesn't make sense, please tell me about it because both my computer and Internet have recently been playing tricks on me.