Warnings for another dark chapter (but it gets better): talks of character death, mentions of suicide, injury recovery and grieving. If anyone is sensitive, please skip.
Don't worry you guys, no one dies at bootleg marineford. Some people just like to salsa dance with death a bit.
XXX
And if somebody hurts you, I want to fight. But my hands have been broken one too many times.
So, I'll use my voice, I'll be so damn rude. Words they always win, and I know I'll lose."
And I want to cry, I want to learn to love. But all my tears have been used up.
…
There were voices all around him, quite at first but they seemed to grow and dim, like someone was adjusting the volume on a whim. At first, he was weightless and numb, then he felt hands on him. Grabbing him and turning him over, even more on his own arms, prying his fingers and twisting them in a way that would have hurt if things could still hurt.
His lungs were full, unusually so. And he couldn't breathe. It felt like someone had lit a match in his chest and it was burning.
But the hands were persistent, prying his fingers open, moving him, hands consistently pressing down on his chest until he was throwing up, expelling the water violently from his lungs.
Barely conscious, consistently blacking in and out, Sabo gave up fighting the hands, letting them move him onto his side. He remembered spitting up water, inviting small amounts of air between each breath. Each time, the world seemed to get a little clearer.
He felt a hand over his chest, felt warmth spread outwards from it, and in the process, it cleared some of the haze that was over him.
When he opened his eyes the world was dark, chaotic, and out of focus.
Blue eyes were staring back at him, glowing inhumanly bright. The warmth on his chest disappeared as the man moved, and the eyes lost their intensity until it was just the familiar face of Marco looking down on him, relief and… sorrow written all over his bloodied face.
"He's alive!" to Sabo he said, "It will be okay, just breathe, you're okay."
He didn't have the slightest clue what the man was going on about. But the air felt nice. Someone was shouting, distracting Marco as he looked over, worry coloring his face, and something darker. He rose, gesturing someone else forward. The world tilted and pain stabbed into Sabo's nice blissful numbness once more as someone picked him up from the ground. For a split second, he saw Marco kneel before a bloody figure, and beyond him, a smaller pile lay, all alone and undisturbed.
Sabo's hand burned, and he squeezed it. Only then realizing how empty it was. But before he could remember why that should bother him, the haze was back, and he fell into it gratefully.
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November 7th.
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Sabo sat up with a start, his heart pounding against his chest. The world flooded through him too fast to make sense of it. But memories of violence and fighting were still fresh in his mind, as well as the overwhelming urge to live. To fight, to keep moving.
On the verge of hyperventilating, he ripped out the IV in his arm, taking no mind to the spray of blood that accompanied it.
Someone had taken his stuff, his clothes, shoes, and weapons, leaving him in nothing other than pale blue pants and a shirt that hung loosely off his frame. He felt too exposed without them.
When he tried to stand, his legs buckled, leaving him sprawled out over the floor next to the bed.
The noise managed to the attention of the others. Unfamiliar faces all turned to look at him, their voices tinged in concern. He ignored them, scrambling to stand, but his right leg refused to take his weight and he ended up right back on the floor.
"Sabo, wait," one of the women was saying, walking towards him. Weapons or not he had never been defenseless. Sabo glared at her, and instantly she faltered. He used that moment to his advantage, leveraging the bedframe to stand and locking his knees despite the nearly overwhelming pain from his ankle. Using the wall as a crutch, Sabo limped towards the door, ignoring the calls as he escaped through it.
It was dark here, and quiet. Like he was underground. And his head absolutely pounded, the world swayed back and forth. There was a narrow staircase leading up from the door, and he took it, crawling up on his hands and knees, sweat collecting at his temples from the effort. He heard the stairs creak as they started to climb after him, serving only to make Sabo climb faster.
A stairway from hell. Maybe that's where he was. Although most places in hell didn't end in a well-lit corriders. This one was full of people, all bustling past, seemingly full of purpose.
The world didn't make any more sense out here, and none of the unfamiliar faces or looks of confused concern did anything to quell the rising panic in his chest. He had to fight; he had to win, he had to get out!
The man nearest him slowed, giving him a small smile. "Oh hey, you're the…."
The footsteps behind him grew nearer and Sabo pushed past the man, desperate to get out. All the people, the narrow corridors, the stale air, and the constant swaying, were making him unbelievably claustrophobic. If he didn't get out of here, he was either going to puke or pass out, probably both.
"Hey kid! Wait."
But Sabo didn't, limping down the hallway until he found another flight of stairs. The nurse was hot on his heels, he heard her call after him as he forced his aching leg to keep moving. Scampering up the stairs as quickly as he could, chasing the ever-growing sweetness of the air, even as the swaying got worse.
"Sabo wait!" The woman tried again, taking the steps two at a time to try and catch up. "You're going to hurt yourself, just wait a second."
Sabo didn't want to wait. He wanted to run, or fight, or do whatever that would get him the hell out of here.
When he stopped and closed his eyes, all he saw was blood, -dripping into the cracks of stone, spreading outwards, wisps of red dissolving into the water, silver air bubbles drifting upwards.
So, he kept running, ignoring the burning pain in his lungs, and the cry of bones that he suspected were more than just bruised. What good was he if he couldn't fight anymore? Who would want a broken toy soldier?
Running with everything he had on unstable legs, he emerged at the top of the stairs, the darkness of the hallway falling away into blinding light. Everything was so bright that for a second, he thought he had gone blind. And then he heard the soft lull of the ocean, and smelled the salty breeze, and Sabo knew he was back on the sea.
It was snowing, delicate snowflakes falling around him, the cold ground stinging his bare feet. Above him, the sky was a murky blue.
He hugged his arms around him, staring out at the ocean, somewhat mesmerized. As far as Sabo could see, there wasn't anything for miles, it was just him and….
And an entire deck full of people, all staring up at him from various tasks, some with open mouths. Many were collected below the largest set of masts and sails Sabo had ever seen.
They were on a boat, a very very large boat. The swaying hadn't been in Sabo's head, rather it was the gentle rocking of the hull he had emerged from.
-That meant there was absolutely nowhere to run.
"You're up."
Marco was standing near the bow, clipboard in his hands, next to a massive chair. His captain, or rather the great Yonko Whitebeard, sat upon it, the man's huge head resting on his hand. He looked amused, a hint of a smile on his face as he looked on.
Maybe if Sabo had been anyone else, he would have been self-conscious. Bursting onto the deck of another ship like your tail was on fire, wearing nothing but hospital clothes, blood from the severed IV steadily dripping down his hand. Yeah… he probably looked pretty stupid.
"Sorry," the nurse panted, trying to catch her breath. "He was really f-fast."
Marco waved her away, seemingly unconcerned. "It's fine… right Sabo?"
Sabo looked around the deck in wonder, watching the snowflakes as they fell. For the first time in a while, he didn't have the slightest clue where he was. It was really beautiful out here, if not a bit cold.
If they were all the way out here, then- someone grabbed his arm and he jumped, hugging his arm into his chest. Marco, moving silently as always. He had crossed the deck and had been trying to get Sabo's attention for some time.
Seeing the panic in his eyes, Marco held up his hands in placation. "You're okay," he told him. When Sabo didn't say anything, Marco tried once more to take hold of his arm, but Sabo jerked away again, taking a step back. His gaze flickered from Marco to his surroundings like he was trying to find something to focus on.
Marco seemed to understand as he offered Sabo a smile, albeit a weak one. "It's a lot to take in, I know. But there is no one for you to fight anymore. It's just us out here."
After the last few months, that was a strange thought. "W-where," he hadn't realized how incredibly dry his throat was. "Where are we?"
"In the north," Marco told him, "Pretty far away from anything you would know. We had to lose them."
"Them?"
"The Marines."
Sabo looked around again as if he could catch sight of their fleet ships off the starboard port.
"They're gone Sabo." Marco said. "That was a week ago."
A week! That couldn't be. Sabo remembered the fighting, the desperation, the overwhelming desire to protect. A week! He still had so much fight left in him, and nothing to do with it. Sabo hadn't been there in the end. After months and months of thinking of nothing else, their fates were taken out of his hands just like that, and he had never even realized it. It wasn't a good feeling.
"I know," Marco said, reading his face a little too well. "I can fill you in but come with me. I have to show you something."
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ONE WEEK LATER (November 14th)
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Breaking news:
Gol D. Roger's secret offspring, the infamous pirate Fire Fist Ace, was killed during a vicious and unprovoked attack undertaken by a joint effort between the Whitebeard pirates and the terrorist organization known as the Revolutionary Army.
Thanks to the tireless efforts of the marines, the siege was fended off, with both sides suffering heavy losses. In a fight against Admiral Sakazuki, Fire Fist, and the Revolutionary army's chief of staff were defeated, along with a third unidentified criminal. Their bodies were lost to the ocean, although recovery efforts are underway.
Both the Whitebeard Pirates and the Revolutionaries have been sufficiently weakened. The Fleet Admiral Sengoku says that it was thanks to the World Governments power and resourcefulness that they were able to maintain order in the face of chaos. When quoted the Fleet admiral added that, "Justice always prevails over darkness."
Although the altercation ended in a win for the Marine's, the long-standing fleet admiral Sengoku, announced he would be stepping down from his position, due to his inability to de-escalate the conflict that led to the great war. In his place Admiral Sakazuki will step in, having been highly commended for his heroic actions during the battle.
Admiral Sakazuki believes this is a good reminder to all those who would rise against the world government. He states that for the world to prosper, justice will be maintained with an iron fist.
The battle was allegedly said to have been ended by the appearance of none other than the legendary pirate captain red-haired Shanks. Admiral Sakazuki, later called this preposterous, as no mere pirate could sway the government to take action.
In unrelated news, the world-renowned hero vice-admiral Garp has retired from his official role….
…
Feeling rather unwell, Sabo put the newspaper down. There were a lot of things written in here that he didn't remember. Dying was at the top of that list. Although he had given it a really good try.
Marco was watching him from across the room, his eyes unreadable as always. If Sabo had to choose, then he would say it was pity. Marco felt bad for him. Honestly, he was starting to miss the days when the man had distrusted him. Sabo was used to that. But the sorrowful looks were getting a bit hard to take. Especially since at the moment, he already felt sorry for himself. So he didn't need an entire pirate crew to do it for him.
Sabo wasn't sure exactly what state they had found him in, but he had assumed it was pretty pathetic based on their expressions. Although it hadn't taken much to get him to spit out the lungful of water he had swallowed. According to them, Marco had barely touched him before he was coughing up half the ocean. That was the benefit of being awake when he went into the sea.
Even so, by the time they managed to get to him, he hadn't been breathing. Although his heart was still beating. He had given them quite the scare when he started coughing. Marco didn't tell him this part, but Sabo figured they thought they were fishing his dead body out of the ocean.
"Maybe you should take a break," Marco said, gesturing to the paper. "It's-,"
"It's fine," Sabo said. "It's just a piece of paper." Words couldn't hurt him. At least not worse than he had already been hurt.
Marco stared at him, his gaze calculated before he stood up, crossing the small space towards him, holding out his hand.
Sabo was sitting on top of his unmade bed, one leg underneath him, his broken one tucked protectively against his chest.
Never had Sabo thought, when he helped Ace kidnap and drug Marco, that the tables would turn so quickly on him. He had expected Marco to murder him, some light maiming maybe. But this? This was really freaking annoying.
"Are you serious?"
"You're paler than your bandages, and your hand is shaking," Marco said, prying the paper from Sabo's grasp.
Sensing a losing battle, Sabo let go before the pages could rip. Instead, Marco placed a handful of pills in his palm. Vitamins, painkillers, antibiotics- whatever he thought would help him. And based on how frequently he had to take them, Marco must think he needed a lot of help.
He took them, his gaze shifting back to the corner, boring a hole through it. There wasn't a lot of excitement to be had down here. Not as he was now. Nor did Sabo really want any.
It had been fourteen days since they pulled him from the water. And Sabo had been an absolute mess. Worse off than the pirate crew seemed to realize during the war. On top of how exhausted he was. He had taken some rock shrapnel to his rib cage, breaking the bone and nearly piercing his lungs. Another to his leg, temple, and two stab wound into his arm. The deeper ones had gotten roughly cauterized by Ace when they were in the tunnels. He had taken another two stabs from the other agents, a superficial one on his stomach, and a much deeper one through his hand. A hand that he had broken punching through the earth with improper form, the other exactly the same when, in a last-ditch effort to save his brothers Sabo had collapsed the cliff shoulder. Not to mention his right leg, which the admiral had burned and snapped. Put that all together with everything else, his shattered eardrum, how exhausted he was, nearly drowning, and… you ended up with something close to the look Marco was giving him.
But it wasn't just that. It had been everything. In the few months they had known each other, Sabo had given up not just his health, but his comrades, his friends, his mission, his purpose, all to try and protect his brothers… and…
Marco wouldn't say it. Not now at least. But with how badly he had gotten injured- Sabo wasn't superhuman, he didn't have a devil fruit, he didn't come from a lineage of warriors. His parents had been normal weaklings, and their parents, and those before them. It was fine. He had more than made up for it by sheer willpower. But it meant that when stuff like this happened. When he kept sacrificing pieces of himself, they might not recover. At least not like before. For the type of things, he did… used to do…he had to be in peak physical condition. Not the broken remains of a person. And that was the least of his worries.
"Stop it!" Marco said, the exasperation was back. He had given Sabo the paper in an effort to stop the seven-day staring contest Sabo had been having with the wall. "If you were Ace, my entire room would be ashes, probably the whole ship."
What did they expect? They kept freaking out every time he got up, Marco had resorted to gatekeeping newspapers from him. Did they want him to pretend to be happy?
Sabo knew there were several things running through Marco's head when he looked at him. At the top of the list was probably when Sabo had used the last of his power to drown the three of them in the ocean. On reflection, that was a huge red flag to a doctor. Maybe that's why they were babying him so hard right now, even though he wasn't one of them.
And worse still, Sabo had to put up with it for multiple reasons. But more than anything, it was gratitude to Marco that kept him obedient, even when he wanted to scream. He owed the man more than his life; he owed him everything. And he would never be able to repay that debt. So he gave the damn newspaper back, and he took the stupid pills, and he tried to stay in, or on his bed. And he would stop giving the wall death stares if it made the man happy.
Blue eyes flickered up, "where do you want me to look then?"
Sabo had gotten a nasty concussion from setting off that explosive underground, so he couldn't read for more than half an hour before his head started throbbing. He couldn't stare out the window, because there wasn't one, and when Marco caught him sharpening his daggers, they were promptly confiscated.
Marco tossed a deck of cards over to him.
"You want me to… play solitaire?
"I want you to relax," Marco told him. "You are so tense, I felt it all the way down the hall."
Sabo forced his rigid shoulder down, softening his expression with notable effort. It was a lot easier said than done especially when you had the weight of the world riding on you.
Sabo hadn't seen his friends in two weeks. All contact had been cut off between the two groups after the war. This meant they didn't know that he was alive, and Sabo didn't know if they were dead. And the latest news wasn't helping matters. He wished he could talk to them, but at the moment, it seemed his only option was to take a page out of Marco's book and just be patient.
Sabo freaking hated being patient.
The bed dipped a bit as Marco sat down on the other side, shuffling the cards. "Ace is the same," Marco said. "You can't keep him down. And when you try, he gets so restless he practically just starts vibrating in place. I get it, really, I do. But you are lucky to be alive."
Sabo knew that. He had seen Marco's charts about him, the scribbled writing, the list of bones he had broken, scars he had collected, internal bleeding. It was a very fat stack of pages.
"The only way you are going to get past this is if you listen to me. Your body wants to heal, you just have to let it."
Sabo heard what Marco wasn't saying. He thought Sabo was deliberately doing this. Like he thought, he didn't deserve to feel better. And as much as Sabo wanted to argue, the words wouldn't come. Because… he had one job! So, things got a little complicated. So, he had to take on the Cipher Pol, and the Marines, and the world? That wasn't an excuse for failing.
"You're doing it again."
Sabo dropped his tense shoulder, turning his gaze away from trying to burn a hole in the bedsheets.
"This wasn't your fault, you know that, right?"
Who would have ever thought eight little words could hurt that much? And Sabo honestly didn't know what was worse: admitting that yes, everything was in fact his fault. He had been given the chance to save his brothers, and he was too weak to do it. Or the realization that it really wasn't his fault. This whole time they had been trapped in an unwinnable game, desperately going through the motions. And nothing Sabo could have done would have made any difference. He had given his blood, sweat, and future, all for nothing. They were all just doomed because of the blood that flowed through their veins. And even after a lifetime of trying to hide it, to convince themselves it didn't define them. They could never outrun it.
"Sabo…"
He sighed, relaxing his tensing shoulder again upon request.
"Here you deal." Marco handed him the cards.
"You're not serious?"
"I can if you want."
"We are not going to play cards."
"Are you that bad?"
Sabo put the deck down. "Look, I appreciate what you are trying to do. But your busy and I don't need a babysitter. Where do you think, I am going to go?"
In the seven days Sabo had been awake, Marco's constant presence had not gone unnoticed by him. Between tending to his injured crew, meeting with his captain, and fulfilling his duties as a division commander, he was spread pretty thin. Sabo had heard that during the first three days back on the ship, Marco had refused to rest, working without pause in the sick bay, until he could be certain all of his ship brothers would pull through. Allegedly, he had passed out several times in the process. But Marco had done it all the same and the Whitebeards hadn't lost any active members through some miracle. Although most of the crew was heavily injured, and there had been some close-close calls. Sabo being one of the closest. Unlike the others, he wasn't going to bounce back that easily, as Marco kept reminding him.
Maybe that was some kind of flaw in Marco's record? And he thought that somehow smothering Sabo with medical attention would make up for it. Or maybe Marco was just feeling as guilty as Sabo was, despite all his talk of forgiveness. Maybe this was his way of trying to change what had happened.
"What I think is the second I turn my back you are going to start wandering around again. It's fine anyways. I have some time on my hands."
"I don't believe you."
"Shuffle the damn deck kid."
So Sabo did.
….
When the lights were turned off and the frequent checks from Marco died down, and the rounds of the nurses became fewer and far in between Sabo sat up, throwing the blankets off of him he placed his bare feet on the cold floor. They had taken his shoes to try and discourage him from leaving, but he didn't care. It only made his footsteps softer on the creaky wooden floors.
Holding on tightly to the bedpost, Sabo gently rose, feeling his muscles ache, and his broken ankle begin to throb. When he was sure he wouldn't fall back down, he padded over from where his bed was in the corner of the room, down a row of empty cots in Marco's idiot ward. Or at least that's what they called it. The scary room near the back of the ship where they sent you when you really messed up. Most of the people who had been here when Sabo was brought in had recovered enough within the first week to be released, many of them preferring their own beds to the uncomfortable mattresses, and constant prodding of nurses. Or at the very least they had switched to the main medical ward upstairs, where they got poked by fewer needles, were allowed to keep their shoes.
By the time Sabo had woken up the beds were empty and it was just the two of them left down here, in the dark quiet. Well, them plus some overbearing medical supervision of the medical staff.
Feeling very restless, and very tired at the same time, Sabo sat down on the only other unmade bed. He was protective of his broken leg, moving it carefully so he could slide under the covers. Ace shifted sleepily, reaching out to put his arm around Sabo's neck, the movements clumsy with how tired he was.
"You o'kay?"
Sabo nodded. "I'm, okay?"
"Okay." He felt Ace shift a little next to him as he fell back asleep. His arm was warm around Sabo's shoulders. It reminded him of simpler times. Of being little, when the two of them would huddle together when the nights grew too cold.
Okay? he seriously doubted any of them were okay. But Sabo was alright. Doing better than Ace at least. His brother had slept for ten straight days since the war. And when he had finally woke up it wasn't for longer than a few minutes.
He had done something to himself when he had lit up the entire battle. Ace had never awakened his devil fruit before, and he was unprepared for the toll it would take on him. But more than that, Ace had used up energy he no longer had. And the result was… unknown. Marco was still trying to figure out what was happening inside of him right now. Something about low glucose levels. Like his body was still burning through energy faster than it could collect it. Sabo had read through Ace's file as well as his own. Honestly, it wasn't that hard to steal Marco's notes. Although he hadn't understood most of it. And from the sounds of it, the nurses and doctors didn't either.
It didn't help matters any that Ace had taken the hit from Akainu, nor that he had nearly drowned. Unlike Sabo, it had taken a fair amount of work to get Ace's lungs to cooperate. Sabo hadn't seen the full extent of the damage (because Marco was quite annoying), but he knew it had to be bad. But right now, Ace was wrapped in clean white bandages, his back hidden from view, his breathing slow and even. Sabo once again forced the tension out of his shoulders. Trying to focus on the feeling. But then he remembered the last time he had let Ace put his arm around him, how he had lowered his guard, and the bloodshed that followed, and he was tense all over again.
For perhaps the first time in his life, Ace was listening to Marco. He wasn't driving him crazy like Sabo was, or trying to set things on fire with his mind. He was just peacefully sleeping. And that's how they knew there was something seriously wrong with him.
When Sabo had woken up, he had been confused, and scared, and combative. Ace had just sleepily looked around, giving Sabo a small smile when his eyes landed on him, asking him the same question, "you okay?" when Sabo nodded, he had fallen back, passing out all over again. Ace hadn't been coherent enough to start asking the important questions. Like why they were still alive, where they were, how they had escaped, and more than anything… where Luffy was.
XXX
Marco's hands shook as he knelt over Ace.
Sabo was alive. Sabo was breathing. One of his crew members was taking him to the medical bay to start emergency treatment. But even though Ace was unaware of what was happening right now, Marco knew that would mean the world to him- even if he could just save one of them.
Even that was a miracle. They had been in the water too long. Sabo should be dead. But he was still alive, and Marco wasn't going to question it.
Trembling fingers found their way to Ace's chest, checking for movement. He wasn't breathing.
Marco had already known that without touching him. The puddle of water he knelt in stained red from the wound on Ace's back.
"Don't do this," he swore, his hands pressing down on Ace's chest with everything he had. Trying to force the water out. Marco felt his eyes sting as he looked down at his little brother, Ace rocked gently from the force of Marco's hits.
He knew that if Ace had his way, Marco would have skipped him all together, working instead on Luffy. But sometimes as a doctor you had to let your personal feelings go, and in situations like this that meant prioritizing the people that were the likeliest to live. It was cold, and heart breaking. But Marco had learned the hard way that you just didn't get to keep everyone, not in this world. And if you tried to choose, then you ended up with no one. Sabo had been alive when he hit the water, Sabo had most likely held his breath. Sabo hadn't already bled out, Sabo chances of survival had been the highest.
Ace had swallowed large amounts of water, Ace had used up all his energy, Ace was injured too deeply, Ace was most likely past saving. And still Marco tried. Because no matter how serious it was, he wasn't a lost cause yet… not like Luffy.
Luffy had most likely been gone even before they fell. That was probably why Ace had done all of that.
Marco bit back his tears with vicious detachment. An emotional doctor was no good to anyone in emergencies.
For what felt like the hundredth time today, he called forth his powers. Collecting whatever scraps, he had left, and tried to force his fire into Ace's chest, willing the other to spit out the water and start taking in air.
He was sorry- so so sorry he couldn't have done more. He had wanted to. He had wanted to protect Ace, from the first day they had met. And the feeling only grew stronger, all the way until Thatch disappeared. He had been trying his best this whole time because… Ace just seemed like someone who desperately needed it, but would never realize. Marco was sorry he had failed. He was sorry that everything he had been afraid of had happened. But… he had saved Sabo. Couldn't that be enough for Ace! He wasn't a freaking god. He didn't decide who lived and who died.
He closed his eyes, concentrating on his fire, letting it heal whatever was broken in Ace's chest that was preventing the water from leaving. He forced the kid's mouth open, checking his airways for any blockages.
"I'm sorry I couldn't save him," he told Ace, pressing harder against his chest. "I'm so sorry. I really wanted to. I know how much you loved him. But you have to let him go Ace, you can't go with him. Enough people have died today."
Blood-tinged water flooded from Ace's mouth, spilling down his face and onto the bloody deck beneath him. More followed it.
Marco kept going until there was nothing left for Ace to cough up before beginning CPR, the world blurred around him. He didn't stop until Ace's chest gave a small shutter, slowly taking in air before letting it go, and again and again.
Marco sat back on his heels, remembering to breathe himself as relief flooded through him. Even that was tinged with bitter regret. He leaned forward, his hand finding Ace's wrist. He squeezed the freezing skin.
"Thank you."
More people were coming to help him. Marco was dimly aware of their shouting. He watched as Jozu knelt down, picking Ace up in his powerful arms, still covered in untreated injuries. He would need to be treated as well, but first.
"Is he?"
Marco nodded, feeling numb. "But you have to-,"
"I will," the man promised, already turning, not wasting any more time as he ran towards the medical bay."
Still sitting in the bloody puddle Ace had left in his wake Marco turned to look over his shoulder at the third figure laying on the deck. All alone.
XXX
His footsteps were nearly silent on the freezing wooden floors. It was dark now; the hallways deserted as Sabo made his way through the ship, using the wall as a crutch to hide his limp. Times like this, late in the night when the noise from deck stopped and it was finally peaceful, were Sabo's favorite. It also meant there was nobody to stop Sabo from wandering about the ship.
One floor down from him, on one of the lowest and darkest levels of the ship, was another medical ward isolated from the rest in both location and severity. Most people avoided this area, not only because it was out of the way but also- everyone hated sick people, especially the one's who weren't going to ever wake up. The placement was intentional, keeping it quiet and isolated. As Marco had gently explained to Sabo the first day he woke up, they had to be careful about who entered so as to try and stop the spread of bacteria and diseases that most people carried with them. It was only when a person's immune systems became too weak to fight them off, did every day contagious become dangerous. Sabo and Ace in particular, had been asked to stay away from here as it worked both ways. They could bring sickness in, and they could be infected with it.
And even knowing all that, Sabo just couldn't do it. And he was pretty sure Marco knew that, even if he pretended to look the other way. That's what the chair was for.
Staying quiet, so not to alert the nurse he knew was lurking nearby, Sabo slipping inside, closing the door behind him.
Thatch was there, asleep on the chair, Luffy's little bandaged hands in the man's larger one. His head cushioned on his arm, leaning forwards on the matress. He had no doubt been here for a while.
Thatch had been the other person specifically asked to stay away. His immune system was too compromised to take anymore hits. If not for his sway and the sympathy points, he seemed to have collected from the encounter, the nurses would never have let him out of Marco's idiot ward. He had been the last to leave, or 'escape' as he called it. Instead, he had been delegated to spend his days in the regular sick bay, and at night when supervision got lax he either escaped back to his own bed or came here.
Sabo hadn't read Thatch's medical chart, but he knew it was bad. Bad enough that the medical staff had placed him on indefinite medical leave from his responsibilities and were intensely treating him.
Thatch was… really nice. Sabo had spent some time with him in the tunnels, and a bit more in the seven days since he woke up. Although it was hard for the two of them to move around freely with Marco and the nurses watching them like hawks. They had met here more than once, and Thatch had bribed his way into visiting Ace a couple of times, although the other boy hadn't been awake for it. Sabo heard that Thatch had done the same for him during the week he had been unconscious.
Thatch was just… a really gentle person. Kind of like Luffy. No wonder they liked each other.
He placed his hand on the man's shoulder and Thatch jumped, instantly alert, as he looked around. His reflexes were still too used to captivity. He relaxed when he saw who it was, slumping back in the chair as he put a hand over his chest.
"Gah, you scared me."
"Sorry."
Thatch let go of Luffy's hand, gently placing it back on the bed beside him. All of them were a mess, but Luffy was by far the worst. He was unbelievably pale, even against the sheets, his skin sun starved and sickly. He was covered in pure white bandages, but even then, the dark angry bruises peaked out from the corners. His arm was too thin and fragile, an IV taped was feeding various minerals and nutrients into his arm, an oxygen mask was on his face, and a heart monitor taped onto his bandaged finger, the machine giving off soft beeps in the near silent room. He was a mess. But he was alive… even if only technically.
There was a row of beds in here, but Luffy's was the only one taken. That was one of the many-many things that kept Sabo up at night. Luffy was all alone here. Just him and a constant stream of nurses and doctors, which apparently, he would have hated.
Sabo had never seen Luffy so still before. And he doubted that his little brother had ever gone this long without sunlight in his entire life.
Sabo was supposed to be grateful. It was a miracle they were here at all. It was a miracle Luffy's heart was beating. Even with help, it was a miracle they had gotten him breathing again.
Sabo had no idea what he would have done if he had woken up to the news that Luffy was gone. That they had failed him, and in the week that he and Ace slept, they had already sent his little broken body back to the sea. Or possibly worse, if Sabo had let go of him after he passed out, and they were never able to find him.
Honestly, if they had told him that, Sabo might have tried to burn down these nice people's ship.
But none of that happened, Luffy was right here, and Sabo was trying to be grateful, really he was. He was trying to be responsible and well behaved. And well-behaved people didn't bite the hand that fed them. They said thank you, played along, and when things got too hard, they sat in a corner and stared into at a wall for days on end.
So, Sabo just tried to ignore the crueler thoughts in his head, like how all they had really done was taken Luffy from one prison to another. How, if Luffy had had his say, he would have probably preferred to be left in the ocean, free and undisturbed, rather then being forced to stay here, in this cold dark room, all alone, without his freedom, for the rest of his life. How even though he hadn't said it, Sabo knew Marco didn't think Luffy was going to wake up.
But Sabo hadn't been able to do that. Even after he had passed out, he hadn't ever been able to let go of his little brother. He'd heard that it had taken three people to pry them away from him, even after Sabo stopped breathing.
Thatch was watching him, concern on the man's face. "Hey, it's okay."
Sabo wiped his cheek, feeling his face heat. He hoped the man hadn't seen that. He would have never have made it to the rank of Chief of staff if he walked around pirate ships crying. Although, before all this started it had been a lot easier to keep his emotions at bay. They had never cut so deeply before. Forgetting had hurt so much less.
"Why does everyone keep saying that? I know they're lying to me."
"Oh, one hundred percent," Thatch agreed. "You just have this look on your face, people can't take it, so they say stupid stuff."
"Should I be smiling? Is that what they want?" He hadn't felt like smiling for a while.
"If you do, I guarantee Marco will send you to a cozy little room with padded walls."
"So I guess everything is alright then. I don't have to smile. I just can't be this sad."
"No, it's okay," Thatch told him again. "I meant it's okay- things are awful. They can just be awful. They're awful for me at least. So I can only imagine…. Not that you would tell me. You can though if you want to. I'm right here, so is Marco, and everyone. I know we are not your crew, but as long as you are with us, you're under Pop's protection. That's not something we take lightly. I know… this-" Thatch gestured around the dark room, "-seems really cruel. But Marco is trying to do right by you. He gets really protective, especially with kids. And I don't think he can take what happened to you guys."
That would explain the card game. And the babysitting. But even though they had their reasons, Sabo couldn't just abandon Luffy down here all by himself. Apparently neither could Thatch.
Sabo stepped forward, grabbing Luffy's hand in his and raising the cold fingers to his face, pressing them against his cheek to let his little brother know he was back.
Marco was trying to make up for what happened? Even though Sabo knew that the man didn't think Luffy was going to wake up.
After Sabo had broken out onto the deck last week, Marco had taken him here, explaining everything to Sabo in a gentle voice.
"Luffy had gone without air for too long, and his heart stopped. Even though they had gotten his heart beating again, his brain had been deprived of oxygen for too long. So now, if he somehow managed to wake up, he might not be himself anymore."
Sabo understood that, really he did. He wasn't a total idiot. People were fragile. But Luffy wasn't any normal person. Yes, he knew how much that sounded like denial. But it was true. Luffy wasn't normal. He had never been. He had been surviving life or death situations since he was born. He had gotten eaten by so many crocodiles that Sabo had stopped counting, all before he turned eight. His body was stronger, more indestructible. If anyone could survive Blackbeard, the marines, this, then it was Luffy.
"Is it just us," Sabo asked after a moment. "Are we the only ones who think he's going to wake up?"
Thatch sighed, his brow drawing together in concern. "They just don't know him like we do. They'll learn."
Sabo nodded, that thought easing some of the tension in his chest.
"How's Ace?"
Another topic Sabo didn't really want to talk about. "He's okay… I think." Better than Luffy at least. Although that was a low bar. "No one really knows what's wrong with him."
Thatch snorted, although there was no humor in his face. "He's an idiot, that's what's wrong with him. I mean, no offense, but he overdid it, and he knew it."
"When we were little," Sabo said, the words flowing from his mouth without his permission, "When I left, I asked Ace to take care of Luffy for me. I just wanted him to be a little nicer. I didn't mean for him to die."
Thatch's face showed nothing but understanding. "He knows," he promised him. "No one but Ace can make up Ace's minds. What he did had nothing to do with you, I know you know that. Ace is just… really protective. Rodger was the same way. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for the people he cared about. And if someone harmed them, all bets were off."
"You knew him?"
"A little," Thatch said. "I was on the crew during that time. But Ace is so different, well aside from that, I would have never put it together."
"I think it would make him happy," Sabo said, "to hear you say that."
"If he got the chance to meet him, he would understand," Thatch told him, smirking at the thought of it. "Rodger would have been thrilled beyond belief to have a son like Ace. Although… joining up with us might have been a hard pill for him to swallow. But I know he would have loved him. So freaking much. It's sad that Ace will never know that."
Most likely, he would never accept it. Maybe if Ace had met Thatch and everyone when he was younger, or if someone bothered to spare one nice word, he might have changed his mind.
The room was silent for a moment, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Until Thatch glanced up at him, frowning. "There's that look again."
"Sorry," Sabo said, relaxing his expression.
Thatch watched him thoughtfully for a moment before saying, "Marco thinks he's a demon by the way."
"Ace?"
"No, Luffy?"
"Luffy!" Sabo's brows arched in amusement, his earlier gloom forgotten, which made Thatch smile. "Like a mythical monster."
"You're lying."
"I'm dead serious. He asked me what I thought."
"He did not."
"Sabo, I swear to you," Thatch's grin was almost infectious. "I mean it was in that diplomatic way of his. But legit, he thinks so."
"A monster-like- big foot?"
"No, I think a monster- like forked tail, devil's horns…red eyes."
Sabo snorted. He couldn't tell if the other man was messing with him or not. It was hard to imagine the deadly serious Marco asking such a question. "He hasn't asked me yet."
"I mean he's not going to ask you guys. That's too rude."
"What did you say?"
"I said yes. Of course I think Luffy is secretly a demon. He spent the last six months hanging out with Teach and the marines just too keep me company."
"I wish he was a monster," Sabo said. "Then I would know he was going to wake up at least."
"Yeah," Thatch's eyes softened. "Me too kid." He rose from the seat, giving Luffy's hand one last squeeze. "I think Marco is going about this all wrong."
"-and Luffy's human?"
"I mean yes, unfortuantly he is, but if I was going to wildly and inappropriately speculate about fairytales while a person was in a coma, then a demon is not what I would choose."
"What would you choose?"
"I think that if I had to pick something- ignoring the irony- then I would say that Luffy's secretly a dragon."
"A dragon?" Sabo said, imagining his little brother as a thirty foot tall, winged bat like creature. He would love that. Soaring through the air, completely free, like he hoped Luffy felt right now.
"I mean it makes a hell of a lot more sense than a demon. He's super strong, his skin is so tough not even stupid Teach could get under it. His brother breathes fire, He's super stubborn, he hoards dumb treasures, he likes meat, and feasts. Maybe he was one of those changelings, like a dragon spirit got switched with a humans at birth."
"Yeah… I like that better."
"Me too," Thatch gave him a smile, thin and weak as it was. He ruffled Sabo's hair as he passed, careful of the bandages over his head. "I should go before they realize I'm gone. See you tomorrow night."
Like Sabo would go anywhere else. He picked up Luffy's hand, still warm from Thatch's hold. He wondered what Luffy had done to make Marco of all people, question reality? Then again, it was Luffy so who knows.
"I believe in you," Sabo told him. "And I'm not going anywhere. So it's okay if you're tired. You can sleep as long as you want. I'll be patient. But I won't let go again, okay?"
XXX
I can't tell you guys how excited I am to get into these chapters.
So, unfortunately, Luffy hiding under the bed and Ace going to get him will have to wait until next time. There was so much to fit in, and so much stuff about the end of the war that I will be revealing over the next few chapters. If you guys have questions, they will (probably) be answered.
But you guys, trust me when I say- it's all down a fluffier hill from here.
(Can anyone guess why Marco thinks Luffy is a demon?)
Anyway, please let me know what you guys thought of the chapter. I have been looking forward to sharing the rescue with everyone for the last few years. I did not intend it to take so long, but here we are all the same. Thanks for all of your support over the years. It's thanks to you guys that this story has gotten this far. I will do my best to deliver on all the promised fluff and hug debts that I had been amassing since the first chapter. I didn't mean for the story to get quite so dark, it just kind of happened. Life is scary. But it is kind of reassuring to have a character like Luffy who will always manage to find the light in any situation.
See you guys next time.
You guys seem to enjoy stories of my job, so I have a new one for you. So for whatever reason, my work seems to mostly hire twenty-something adventure chicks. So I work in the biology department, but there is also a forestry department that is cursed, like legit. This summer alone an ATV flipped and the members were Air vacced to the hospital, someone got struck by lightning, ect. It get's crazier (by contrast the biology department is very safe).
All this to say, right now the forestry department is one girl (a very badass girl). So, because they're so short-staffed the other day I went out with her to do some pile burning. Forestry companies leave the unused parts of the tree in piles to later burn to prevent forest fires. As a biologist, I don't approve, but it was so freaking fun. We drove up a forestry road, and then drove up a mountain on an ATV, where it was full on blizzarding at the top, and set like 30 tree piles on fire. These things are large, like the size of a log cabin. So we had a snowstorm and like 30 giant bonfires going. Somehow we made it back, incident free, in very sketchy conditions, both soaked in diesel fluid. And hooking the trailer onto the truck to load the ATV, we lost control of it, and it ran over me and then her, and then her again. We are both fine, and we got it back on again, but I have a real pretty-looking bruise on my leg and a good lil' limp. It was worth it though for that view! And for the fun of lighting a bunch of pyres in a snowstorm.
XXX
Aquarica: Oh good! I am so glad you saw that. I was worried I absconded with your awesome art, and never got the chance to say thanks. I'm glad you understand the struggle. I wish we got dedicated One Piece days, but this strange and foreign Canadian government continues to refuse my requests. I hope things calm down for you. And I promise cozy chapters on the way!
Pause143:
Oh no! What have you done to yourself. I hope you are all right. Make sure to drink lots of water if you can and some vitamin C. I'm very flattered the chapter still made it to you, but make sure to take care of yourself. Hopefully by now you are feeling better.
And thank you. I always hated how hypocritical the government was. Haha, Sabo really is unhinged isn't he. I think the sooner they realize he is as bad as Ace, the more they can help him. I hope you are on the mend.
Guest: Why thank you. Whitebeard is alive and well, and more intact than in the canon. More on Shank next chapter. But we have him to thank for saving our boys.
Mel72000: Ooof, I never realized that. But I am quite happy to have chapter 74 being the chapter Ace is save instead of doughnuted.
Wishfull-star: I will get into Shank next time! I have not forgotten about him.
: Thank you! Glad you liked it.
Aimforthedogstar: I know right, am I on top of it or what lol.
Ooff, I never even considered that. Although I don't think any of them would have noticed with everything going on, certainly not Ace and Luffy.
For all the slack Sabo gave them this chapter, he was really hurting.
I would love to, as somebody on AO3 just told me 'smear Blackbeard onto the pavement like jam" lol, I feel like Luffy has to be the one to do it. But our boy is not up to it right now so I'll wait.
Merry Gallehl: I stand by my promise of fluff. Our great sun god Nika won't let them die, not when it promised Luffy to save them.
Firefiststrawhat: Hopefully it's fixed. I'll make sure my comment sent.
Nancy2239: Shanks saved our boys. I will go into it more next time! I know it was a bit all over the place. (Yes, he did jump in.)
Picklejuice: Aww, thank you. Fluff is on the way. Stay tuned for next chapter. It will get lighter.
Ppleater: Yes!
And yeah, fire and Luffy don't always mix well. I think for the moment Marco is the therapist. Which is unfortunate as he needs it the most.
XXX