A Phoenix Reborn
"Chapter III: Finding a Lost Bird"
They were up in arms, shouting out cries of joys and tears streaming down their face. It had been close to thirty years since Whitebeard had been reborn into this new timeline, and with each passing year, another son was welcomed into the family. However, one remained outside of their grasp, forever eluding their sight. Now though, now the oldest brother wasn't some forgotten memory from another life that they held onto to remember him by. No, now the dream was a reality, just a breath away from being true.
And all they had to do was find him.
Of course, there was the problem of not being able to recognize your most important person, and if Marco's memory didn't jog they would have to find a reason to get close to him again. But that didn't matter right now, right now was a time to celebrate their lost older brother being found, and everything was okay again.
Because Marco was alright. He was alive.
It was hard, so very hard to leave the room full of cheer. There was no other option though because as much as he loved his family, he needed the comfort that only one person could bring. And he wasn't even there.
So Ace went to that special place, welcoming the darkened wood and almost recoiling from the lack of warmth. It was their room, the room that had been set aside just for them. Ace had only set foot in this room a handful of times, wanting to preserve the space for when his lover returned. As years went by though, with more hope lost every passing day, it had become almost a memorial for the eldest son. Pictures of Marco and them scattered the room, all drawn or painted from memory. Some flowers and letters littered the desk and nightstand, a silent plea to come home soon. Ace can't remember how many times he stumbled upon a brother sitting outside this very room, sometimes just sitting against it – taking comfort in the thought that even if he wasn't there, Marco would care enough to be there for them. Other times his siblings would just talk about their day, believing that he could hear them from wherever he was.
Ace can't remember the last time he set foot in this room.
For all the Marco had never set foot in these walls, his presence is all around him, in every wooden board, in every breath he takes. It doesn't quite smell like him – because Marco smelled of freshly fallen rain, of the breeze in the wind, a starting fire, of rebirth and freedom – but it's a close thing. So when Ace collapses on the bed, wrapping himself in a forgotten warmth, it's no wonder that the last time they were together comes to mind.
Years had passed since the War of the Best, another war taking its place for the right to live. It was freedom against order, so-called 'criminals' against 'justice bringers' but they loved every second of it. The thrill kept their blood pumping and hearts beating, and for once in a very long time, they felt more alive than ever before.
He doesn't know how long the battle for the End went, doesn't know quite when it stopped. All he knows is that suddenly his brother is laughing, a joyful laugh that speaks of freedom and he can't help but laugh with him, the feeling of they finally won taking over his mind and it feels so good. Blood that once urged him to defy has settled, calmed when the enemy it has been fighting for hundreds of years has finally been defeated, and the memories can finally rest in peace – knowing that their decedents and the world is safe once more.
The joy doesn't last long though, probably an hour or so at most. They have left the battlefield behind them, the party in full swing, but something hasn't settled in his gut and screams at him something terrible is going to happen. He's inclined to believe it.
So he keeps his guard up, doesn't rest that night even when everyone else is passed out drunk on the floor. By eleven almost everyone is asleep, knocked unconscious from alcohol. His gaze sweeps across the deck, searching for something until he finds it. Marco is looking out at the sea, relaxed in a way he so very rarely is, and seems to be smiling a wistful, heartbreaking, smile that pulls at his heartstrings.
Ace doesn't hesitate to go over to him, walking between his siblings like he always has, coming beside Marco with concern in his eyes and desperation settling into his body. Because while he doesn't know what's going through the man's mind, he can sense that it isn't something that he's going to like.
"Marco?"
Suddenly the others are around them, Pops looking on with a resigned expression, Izo and Thatch staring solemnly, Haruta has tears streaming down her face. The commanders are standing in a line, all the same, Pops looking at Marco with a fond expression that delays the sadness behind his eyes, giving a smile to his first and eldest son. Something is about to happen, something horrible, and Ace is the only one who's not prepared for it.
"It's time."
It only takes those two little words for most of the commanders to break apart, still trying to stand tall but not quite managing it. Ace doesn't know what's going on, why his family is crying and why Marco's voice is a mix between joyous relief and heartbreaking depression. He's not around people often when they say their last goodbyes, but he gets the feeling all the same in this one moment.
"Marco?"
He can see him taking a shuddering breath, preparing to do something that he longs for and at the same time despises. There's a terrible weight on his shoulders, almost seeming to crush the first mate under its weight. All Ace can think of is taking it all back, removing this burden and taking it on himself. He knows Marco though, knows that while he still stands he won't ask for help.
"I said years ago that when an era ends, a phoenix must die. I wasn't lying, just misspoken. While the Era of Silver had ended at Marineford and the Era of Dreams had started, my time still ran strong. The Century of Lies still thrived."
It feels like the world is crashing down around him, taking every foundation Ace has built up for himself and ripping it away from him. It leaves him barren, on show for the whole world to see because suddenly Ace knows what's about to happen and he wants nothing more than to rewind time and just stop. Stop everything.
"Now that the facts have come out, it's free and no one can ever be harmed by their deceptions ever again. I can move on, I can let this burden, this promise go because it's been fulfilled. The Century of Truth can finally begin, and relics from so long ago have to let go for it to happen."
It screams in all of their hearts, the undeniable facts that this is happening and they can't do anything to stop it. What is the point of being a pirate if they can't be free? Free from fate, free from the laws of nature, free of the burden too heavy to bare. What's the point of their strengths if they can't even protect the one that was there for them for years?
"Thank you, Whitebeard Pirates. I have watched you all grown from the low-life of the world to one of the greatest crews that have ever lived. Whatever I may have said in the past, no matter how much you annoy me and how much I want to throw you overboard - know that it has been an honor to serve as your first division commander, Oyaji."
Marco (who shines brighter than the sun ever could) turns, not a single tear in sight unlike the rest of them. His eyes are sorrow-filled, but there's so much pride that it completely overtakes whatever could be beneath it. Lips are curved into a smile, not a smirk, and it feels as if his phoenix is singing to heal their hearts. Marco doesn't have any regrets, no reason to worry about his family, but that doesn't mean he isn't sad to see them go.
Ace feels himself take a step forward, and then another one, and another, until he is in front of his lover. He doesn't try to stop the tears from streaming down his face, doesn't try to hide his pain because Marco deserves to know that he's worth everything and anything. It doesn't come as a surprise to either of them when Ace latches on to Marco like he would die without him. It's not a surprise when Marco clings back just as much.
Marco smells like the sky, the breeze that carries the words of loved ones; he smells like the damp air after a rain shower, and for all that he's made of fire, Marco doesn't smell of burnt wood or charcoal. No, he smells of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers, of rebirth and freedom. Everything Ace has ever wanted, wrapped up in one man.
"This is goodbye, isn't it?"
"It's never a goodbye. I know you'll find me in the next life, and I'll be waiting."
He steps away from Ace, from the crew. Distancing himself so he can look at all of his family one last time. See the man who took him in when there was no other place to go, the young boys who became the best siblings one could ask for. Memorizing the faces of everyone, but most importantly, carving his young lover's features into his mind.
"Throw my fruit into the ocean, would you? The ole bird will find a way to be reborn, just hopefully not as a person," the crew nods, resigned acceptance on their faces. "Hey, don't be sad. We'll see each other again someday. We'll become the family we are now. Please, give me a smile.
"This is it. Goodbye, everyone. Thank you for everything. Thank you for loving me."
And the man, so bright and beautiful, so full of life and dreams bursts into flames, a smile the last thing they see on his face.
When the flames die out, there is a blue pineapple sitting before them, waiting to see what happens next.
It had been a long wait for Newgate. Over thirty years he had been alive, gathering up his remaining family as he went. He found old rivals turned friends, and with those friends they helped him find his crew with him returning the favor. It hadn't matter how high they looked, or how far. There was only one person missing, one single person they said goodbye to a little too early, and a little too late.
Marco had always been there, a steady presence even when he had been starting out on his adventure. He was more than a son, or even a brother because he was confident, a person who helped him guide the crew when he doubted himself. Marco had been the first in many to believe in him, but he had still been the first.
He loved all of his sons equally, but he didn't feel guilty about trusting Marco more, knowing more about him, relying on him when he was weak. Marco had done everything he could to make sure everything was going smoothly, taking the reins as he grew older and he stayed young. Newgate had never envied his devil fruit power, knowing just how lonely his eldest son's eyes were.
Edward remembered, even back then, how his son had been so weary of the world, so weary of a single conversation and a hand offered to him. Marco had been so shocked, so off-kilter that it had broken his faith in humanity just looking at him. It was a hard thing to accept, hard to communicate with him the first couple of years. But he had settled, had found his role and worth with him. Marco had decided to live with his name carved onto his body, for the world to hear even if the man himself was long gone.
Maybe, when Marco had joined him on his adventure, he had wished that just for once he wasn't going to be left behind.
Newgate will probably never know, knowing his son.
They called upon their allies, search for a man that matched Ace's description. However, as more and more people returned in failure, it was hard to keep spirits up. They refused to lose hope, knowing their brother was now out there somewhere, just waiting to be found by them. The Whitebeard Pirates had never given up, and they weren't about to when their older brother was relying on them.
It wasn't until a few weeks later did they finally concede to a helping hand in the form of a bar owner. If they remembered correctly, the informative was Shakuyaku, Rayleigh's wife. While a former enemy, they were good people who they could rely on in the thick of things. She had heard of the Whitebeards looking for a man with black hair and startling green eyes and had called them up.
Only the former commanders and captain went, having the others continue the search. The bar was a warm, cozy place – still titled the exact same as in the past: "Shakky's Rip-off Bar." It was empty at the time, having closed up shop to talk with them for the night. The once-pirates settled at the tables, none daring enough to sit in hitting range of the woman. She had a mean right hook, after all.
"Have you seen my first division commander?" Pops broke the tense silence, wanting to know if she had any, any information on his lost son. She looked at him in askance though, only knowing they were looking for a male with black hair and emerald green eyes that were so vibrant that it literally hurt to look at them. Shakky leaned over the bar all the same, banging on the tabletop.
"Hey! Slacker! I'm not paying you to sleep on the floor down there!"
There was a moment of silence, then a groan. Finally, a hand appeared to grab the ledge, assuming to hoist them up from the floor. Who would sleep at a bar run by Shakky? She would have killed you for slacking off.
"I'm on my break, you goddamn crone!"
It was the voice that made them come up short, stopping all process because they had heard that same voice bark orders when it the middle of battle. They had heard that voice comfort them in the dead of night, and heard it through the hallways of their ship – it meant that everything was alright and if it wasn't, the person the voice belong to would make it alright.
The person hauled themselves up, shooting out from under the bar and practically glared at Shakky, who only looked amused. Black hair, longer than they had ever seen on his face, and paler skin that spoke of long hours indoors. The eyes were different, only one being the blue they were all used to, but they knew that warmth, that face better than their own.
Standing in front of them, behind the counter of Shakky's Rip-Off Bar, was none other than the first division commander they had all been looking for.
Word: ~2600
Night: I got it out! Finally! Next chapter is one I have been waiting to get off my chest, so naturally I have to put something in between them to keep you in suspense. I can't wait until you see what I have planned! I'm so very excited, and apparently my mind can't stop thinking of Marco... so everything else I have to do is unimportant to me... oh well.
Letting you know, nothing is abandoned. Everything will be updated or re-written... eventurally. I've been frantasing with the idea of starting The Book of Fate up again, and recently Eyes of the Sun is tickling at my fingers. I'm not promising anything - because lets be honest, when have I ever kept my word? - but just letting you know what's on my mind.
...I also have a lot of plans for new stories dealing with Marco (because he needs more love) so there's that to keep your mind wondering.
To the only person who reviewed! (And you guys wonder why I take so long on all my stories)
Guest: For all that the Whitebeard Pirates have had a better life than the last one, not everyone is lucky. Ace may have his parents back, might still be a member of Edward's crew, but someone else might suffer for it. Just keep that in mind.
Preview: (Once again, not saying its in the next chapter)
"He never told me much about himself... always trying to be distant to everyone else."
"I'm not your son - we both know that."
Screeching of tires blare in his head, and as much as he want to run over to his fallen brother, he's stuck watching has he's hit down.
Beeping fills the room, and he clings desperately to the too-stilled hand like it's a lifeline.
"Harry doesn't live in the dorms, too crowded for him, he said."
"That blonde chick Shakky told us about... she's here."
"Is she his... girlfriend?"