Prison!AU

Marco's eyes were set tiredly on the floor as he listened to the clapping of shoes against cobblestone, barely registering it. He would never admit it aloud—wouldn't dream of damaging his pride like that—but the sterilization took a lot out of him. It was damn painful, and hard to keep his indifferent expression until they'd dumped him in that cell. But he'd done it, and now he was paying the price with fatigue and sudden shivers of pain.

The footsteps stopped behind the cell bars, one of the wall torches lighting as he looked up. Dark eyes bore into his own, a blurry mess from the haze of pain clouding his eyes.

"You look like shit."

It took him a while to realize he was the one who was being spoken to, but even then he didn't respond, didn't return the remark. Through the exhaustion he could make out a uniform, one he'd gotten to know intimately since his arrival, and the signature hat of the Impel Down staff. So that was a Level Six guard, then.

"Commander Marco, first mate of the Whitebeard pirates. Quite a title you got there." He decided then to close his eyes, to tune out the mocking and low jibes that were soon to follow. "You don't look like that big of a deal. Guess the cleansing takes a lot out of you, huh?"

The prisoner looked at him again with renewed interest, watching as the cell door was opened. He could barely hear the shouts of the prisoners in other cells down the hall.

Suddenly a water canteen was dangled tauntingly in front of him, the boy's face now inches from his own and split with a grin.

"Thirsty?"

He wasn't given a chance to answer as a hand came around to gently cup the back of his head. The pirate immediately relaxed into it, tipping back as the lip of the canteen was pressed to his mouth. He savoured every drop, the liquid cool as it cascaded down his throat. Marco's head followed it as it was pulled away, displeasure evident in his expression when he couldn't drink anymore. He was still thirsty, but grateful for the little he was given.

Settling his gaze on the boy with the freckles, no more than a child wearing that uniform, he narrowed his eyes. "You…"

Uncaring of the chains fixing Marco to the wall, the guard sat next to him, looking out into the hall with a smile. "There's no surveillance in front of the cell, so I won't get in trouble. Or, well, I better not. Old man'll be pissed if he finds out."

What… was he even doing there? "Why, yoi?"

The guard looked at him like he had three heads. "You're not serious, right? Marine talkin' to a pirate, fucking entering his cell? He'd have a fit."

"Why are you doing this?" he managed to croak out, elaborating on his question and watching as realization dawned on the youth.

He turned away. Marco didn't.

"You've been here a few days, and you're probably the first that hasn't threatened to maim me—yet."

Marco didn't have the energy for shit like that.

"…They pushed up your execution date to tomorrow. Your captain's already started making his move. Figured it was the least I could do."

He had less than twenty-four hours, then. "…Thanks, yoi."

The boy smiled, shrugging off the comment. "It's nothing. Even pirates are human, right?"

He closed his eyes, allowing his head to fall back against the stone wall. So there were marines who believed that, too. It was a comforting thought.

"I wonder… if he had someone before his execution."

…Who?

"Say," he started, renewed excitement in his voice, "does being a pirate make you free?"

The question was unexpected, but it led his mouth to curve upward. "It does."

Interesting brat.

"More than anything else."

Adieu~