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Ace wakes up, and he can’t move.
He immediately thinks, God damn it, Sabo.
Sure enough, it takes less than a minute for a familiar gap-toothed face to appear over him. Ace distinctly remembers when that tooth got knocked out. It was shortly before Luffy was dropped off with Dadan, and Ace and Sabo had gotten into a little scuffle with some of the scavengers in the Grey Terminal.
“We’ve gotta tell Luffy to be more careful,” Sabo tells him. “He’s so stupid all the time, but we’re not gonna be there for him forever.”
That’s great, Ace thinks. But right now I can’t move and I’m also on a ship somewhere in the New World. And you’re dead.
He agrees, though. Luffy is stupid, and he does need to be more careful.
Sabo’s face grins at him, his bandaged nose scrunching up like it always does.
Ace wasn’t always haunted by his dead brother. It started about when he turned fifteen. He’s never told anybody about it, because he’s actually pretty sure that most people don’t believe in ghosts and frankly he’s enough of an outcast already. But what other explanation is there for something like this?
Sabo, looking the same as the day he died, speaks to him pretty frequently. As far as Ace can tell, he is the only one who ever notices his brother’s ghost. Even Luffy was oblivious to it, back when Ace was still on Dawn Island. Sabo usually shows up at night, or when Ace is trying to sleep. He thinks that it must be easier for ghosts to appear when it’s dark out, or when less people are awake.
When it first started, Ace was pretty sure he was going insane. He spent a few days completely paranoid, flinching when Luffy spoke to him and not sleeping much at all. But he soon realized what was actually going on.
It makes perfect sense that Sabo would haunt him. His death was Ace’s fault, after all. If Ace had fought for his brother– if he’d tried to get him back from those stupid nobles, or listened to Luffy when he said that Sabo was probably miserable– but instead, Ace had done nothing, and now Sabo is dead.
It isn’t that Ace doesn’t enjoy seeing his dead brother. It’s definitely preferable to never seeing him again. But all the same, he’s grateful that Sabo isn’t haunting Luffy instead. There is an instant, undeniable ache every time Sabo appears. It’s practically tantalizing– a reminder that no matter how many times Ace hears him or sees him, he is forever gone.
The never-aging is part of it. No matter how old Ace gets, Sabo is eternally ten. And he never interacts with Ace as though he is experiencing the same reality or existing in the same world. Instead, he always speaks like he’s back on Dawn Island all those years ago, when the three of them had just become brothers, inseparable.
“Come on, Ace,” says Sabo, moving away from him. “Best of one hundred, and the loser takes Luffy on.”
Alright, Ace wants to say. Anything, I’ll do anything you want. As long as you stay.
But of course, he still can’t move, and Sabo will be gone by the time he can.
And that’s the other reason he’s glad Luffy doesn’t have to experience this. It doesn’t happen every time– usually just when he’s waking up. But sometimes when he sees Sabo, Ace gets frozen still. It’s like he loses control of his own body. It has to be Sabo doing it, making sure that Ace can’t run away or try to ignore him.
Of course, Ace wouldn’t do that. He doesn’t do that, even when he sees Sabo and he’s not frozen in place. If Sabo wants to spend his afterlife following Ace around and reminding him of his biggest mistake, then Ace will spend the rest of his life paying attention to him.
Sabo laughs. It’s a painful noise, high-pitched and scratchy. His voice will never drop. “Come on, hurry! Tiger Lord’s right behind us!”
It never lasts forever. Eventually, Sabo leaves, and Ace can move again.
And these days, he has plenty to distract him once he’s up. He’s the newest member of Whitebeard’s crew, alongside the rest of the former-Spades, and there’s always someone wanting to talk to him.
Today, it’s Haruta. They spend the morning playing darts on one of the walls where they absolutely shouldn't be, laughing over their defeat over the last Marine ship that tried to raid them, and then head to the galley for lunch where Thatch and Marco join them.
“Hey, Ace,” Marco says, smirking at him. “Is it nap time for you after this?”
Ace rolls his eyes. The Whitebeards love making a big deal of his tendency to suddenly fall asleep in the middle of the day, but as far as Ace is concerned, it’s perfectly normal. In the New World, they could be attacked day or night, and it’s practically sensible to sleep whenever he’s tired. And anyway, it’s not as though he has much control over it. His body just kind of shuts down whenever it needs to.
“I hope not,” Thatch says, “because someone promised that he’d be my partner for the euchre tournament this afternoon.”
“You asked Ace to be your partner?” Haruta asks, full of judgment. “Does he even know how to play euchre?”
“I do,” Ace says, offended. Not a lie– he’s been watching the last couple tournaments, and he’s pretty sure he’s got a handle on the rules. “I mean, I’ve never played before, but I know how.”
Thatch suddenly looks a lot less confident. “Wait, what?”
Marco slaps him on the shoulder, snickering. “So good of you to include our youngest brother, Thatch.”
“Fuck off,” Thatch grumbles.
“We’re still gonna win,” Ace insists. “I’m a quick learner.”
“I don’t know about that,” Haruta says, rolling his eyes. “How long did it take you to learn that you had no chance against Oyaji?”
Ace huffs. “I figured that out way before I stopped trying to kill him.”
“So, you just liked looking stupid?” Marco asks, and Ace tries to shove his head into the table.
And then he freezes, because he catches a glimpse of Sabo over Marco’s shoulder. His brother smirks at him. “You’re so stupid, Ace,” he says. “Even Luffy can read better than you.”
Not my fault I was raised by bandits, Ace thinks. And then shakes his head. He can read by now. He’s eighteen, of course he can. He’s actually pretty decent at it.
Sabo taught him.
“Hello?” Thatch asks, waving a hand in front of his face. “Earth to Ace.”
Ace blinks. Sabo is gone.
He refocuses. “Sorry, what?”
Thatch rolls his eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want a nap before the tournament starts? I’ll kick your ass if you zone out like that mid-game.”
“I’m fine,” Ace says, scowling. “I can kick your ass right now, if you want me to.”
“Sure,” Thatch says, smirking. “Of course you can.”
“I can!”
Suddenly, Curiel crashes into their table. “Sorry,” he says, barely looking at them. “Just trying to teach Vista a lesson.” He launches back up and across the room, where Vista is waiting with a smirk. Thatch and Haruta both move closer to jeer. These kinds of fights are typical on board the Moby Dick.
Marco doesn’t move. He’s watching with narrowed eyes and a weird expression.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks. “Thatch won’t actually be upset if you’re not up to the tournament today.”
Ace scoffs. “You wish. You’re just scared that we’re going to dominate you.”
Marco watches him for a moment more, and then smirks. “Not likely. I’m teamed with Blamenco, and he is the master of euchre.”
“He’s allowed to play?” Ace asks, incredulous. “I bet he just makes pockets in his hands with his Devil Fruit and hides cards in them.”
Marco widens his eyes at him. “Of course not! That would be poor sportsmanship. I can’t believe you’re accusing your poor brother of such a thing, Ace.”
Ace scowls. “I’m going to turn any good hand you get into ashes.”
Marco just grins. “Now, that would be cheating.”
After chasing Marco around the room, Ace does actually end up taking a nap. But he wakes up in plenty of time for euchre.
*
It’s only a few days later when they next get the opportunity for a good fight. Some pirate crew that Ace has never heard of tries to attack them, perhaps not realizing just whose ship they’re boarding– but if that’s the case, they soon find out, because the Whitebeards waste no time in beating their asses.
It’s refreshing, honestly. Ace has always liked a good fight– and more than that, he likes winning, and he didn’t get much of that while he was trying to kill Whitebeard.
Across the deck, Whitebeard sits and watches them all, laughing.
Kingdew is throwing people off the side of the ship, and Fossa is lighting his sword on fire with the tip of his cigarette. Rakuyo’s mace ensures that the rest of them give him a five foot radius, and Jiru is moving so quickly that Ace keeps losing sight of him.
Of course, his brothers aren’t his main focus. Ace’s main focus is the group just now making their way onto the Moby Dick, trying to sneak like they can turn the tide if they just have the element of surprise.
Not if he has anything to say about it.
He usually doesn’t use his Devil Fruit for fights like this one. It’s more dangerous in close quarters, and it’s more cathartic to just hit something.
So Ace is taking his time with the group, allowing their swords and bullets to pass through him. He trips one– socks another in the gut– throws another over his shoulder.
And then, from behind him, Jozu shouts. “Watch out! That one’s got a seastone weapon!”
Ace turns to see a big beefy guy making his way through the chaos with a strangely glistening sword. Sure enough, it’s the unique gleam of seastone. With just a glance at Jozu, Ace can see where it cut him, leaving a bleeding gash in his shoulder.
Ace bears his teeth. He likes a challenge, but also– nobody gets to hurt his brothers. He lunges for the guy.
Their fight is a tricky one. Ace has gotten used to letting weapons pass right through him, and this time, he has to avoid getting hit. He lets his fire bubble to the surface of his skin, and he can feel like licking at his knuckles and leaping upwards from his shoulders.
But he's dodging more than he's doing damage, and he’s getting frustrated. “All right,” he says. “We can be done now.”
He turns his whole body to flame, and prepares to rush the man.
And then suddenly, he hears a voice as familiar as his own heartbeat.
“Ace!” Sabo cries, sounding scared, and Ace can’t help but turn his head frantically, looking for him.
He finally finds him by the ship’s railing, backing up against it with a terrified expression. “Help me, Ace!” Sabo says, looking right at him. “Please, I need your help!”
Ace can’t move. It’s not like those times when he wakes up and he can’t control his limbs. It’s more like his brain is full of nothing but static. He feels nothing but panic. He has to help his brother.
And then someone else screams his name, and a cutting, burning pain blooms across his stomach.
He turns his head just in time to see Marco’s sandled foot go crashing into sword-guy’s head, and then the guy is down for the count. Marco lands in front of him, expression worried, hands hovering over him.
“Ace!” he says. “What was that, why did you– fuck, that’s not good.”
Ace looks down, and– oh. He was hit. There’s a gaping slash wound across his torso. Ace almost forgot what this felt like.
Like lightning in the atmosphere, he can feel the tremor in the air as Whitebeard joins in the fight. Probably, he’s seen that Ace is injured, and is ending the battle now.
But Ace isn’t really thinking about that. Instead, he’s turning his head to where Sabo was, but his brother is gone.
Marco’s touching him now, trying to lower him to the ground, one hand pressing against the wound, but Ace is resisting him.
He feels strangely woozy, disconnected and out of place. “Sabo,” he says, hands fumbling at Marco’s shirt. “Sabo, you have to help Sabo.”
“Sa– what, what are you– Ace, just stop moving, stop it, you were hit.”
“Sabo,” Ace insists, but his vision is fading and his grip is weakening. “Have to help– please, please. You have to help him, Marco.”
“Help who? Ace, I don’t know who that is– you’re the one that’s–”
And then Ace passes out.
*
When he wakes, he’s not sure what’s going on. He feels feverish and chilled at the same time. Something’s wrong with his stomach. It’s burning.
He whines, uncomfortable and in pain.
Suddenly there’s movement. Distantly, he can see blurry faces crowding around him– Oyaji, Marco, Thatch, Izou– but he’s not paying attention to any of them, because in the middle of them all, there’s Sabo.
There are many voices, but only one reaches him.
“Ace,” Sabo says, biting his lip. There’s something terrible and frightened in the expression on his face. “I don’t want to go back.”
“S’bo,” he mumbles. The other voices stop, but Sabo keeps speaking.
“I don’t think I can survive it.” Sabo is almost crying now, and Ace– Ace hates it. He can’t stand it when his brothers cry.
“S’bo,” he says, trying to get up. Firm hands grab him and hold him down. “S’bo– don’ go. Pl’se don’ go.”
“I can’t– they’ll lock me up forever,” Sabo says. His face crumples. “And I’m afraid– that I’ll become one of them. I don’t want to be like them, Ace, I don’t want it.”
“No,” Ace says. His mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “Y’r not, y’r not. S’bo, stay h’re w’th me.”
“I want to leave this place,” Sabo is saying. “I want to sail away from here– and we’ll find each other again out there, okay? Please, just– just let me go, I can’t stay.”
“No!” Ace says, and he might be yelling, but he can’t tell. There are more hands on him now, pressing him into the mattress. “Sabo! You can’t go! Please, you’ll die, you can’t–”
“Please,” Sabo sobs. “I don’t want to stay with them. Please get me out of here, Ace, please– let me leave–”
“SABO!” Ace’s throat is tearing, but he doesn’t stop– “PLEASE! Please, please–”
“I’ve got to leave,” his brother is saying, but Ace can’t see him anymore. “And I can’t come back.”
“I’M SORRY!” Ace is yelling. “I’M SORRY, I’M SORRY, it’s my fault, please– PLEASE!”
“I can’t come back,” Sabo repeats. His voice is fading, becoming distant, and he’s taking a part of Ace with him. “I’ve got to be free, don’t you get it, Ace? I’ve got to be free.”
“Please,” Ace says, and now he’s the one crying, tears streaming down his face. “Don’t leave me, please, come back, come back!”
But Sabo doesn’t say anything else. He’s gone.
Ace tries one more time to lever himself upwards, a desperate cry wrenching from his throat–
And then he passes out again.
*
When he wakes, he’s not sure what’s going on. He’s in the infirmary, but for a long moment he can’t remember why. And then Nurse Tate catches sight of him, and she yells for someone– and in no time at all, his father and several of his brothers are crowded around him, expressions worried and pinched.
“Whoa,” Ace says, trying for a smile, and then stops, because his voice is unexpectedly hoarse. Someone hands him a cup of water, and he drinks before trying again. “What happened while I was out? Did someone die?”
Nobody laughs. They just keep looking at him. Whitebeard and Marco and Thatch and Izou and Jozu are all here– and not one of them is smiling.
Fear seizes his heart. “Wait– did someone die?”
“No,” Marco finally says. “It was just you that got hurt, and Jozu.”
“How did I–” Ace groans. “It was that stupid sword guy, wasn’t it.”
“Yeah,” Jozu says. He’s got a bandage around his shoulder where the guy cut him. “You were fighting him, and then you– got distracted by something, I think. You looked away and stopped moving, and he cut your stomach open.”
Ace grimaces. “God, is that why my stomach feels like it does? How long until I can eat again?”
Thatch gives him a weak smile. “We can start you on liquids, but it’ll be a few days until you get solid foods again.”
“Ugh.” He looks around at them. “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Ace…” Marco says. “You woke up once before this.”
“What?” Ace furrows his brow. “I don’t remember that.”
Marco nods. “You were… very distraught. You kept yelling for someone, asking them not to leave… and you kept saying that something was your fault.”
Ace’s stomach ties itself into knots, and his expression freezes.
“You kept saying the name Sabo,” Marco says, and Ace feels it like a second stab wound. “And when you first got hit, right before you passed out– you were asking me to help someone named Sabo. You wanted me to save him.”
Ace grimaces, and tries for a grin. Somehow, he gets the feeling that he’s not very successful. “Sorry about that. Guess the seastone messed me up a bit.”
They all exchange glances. Ace doesn’t like the look of it.
“Ace,” Whitebeard says slowly. “Jozu says you were distracted by something before you were ever hit.”
Ace doesn’t let his expression change, but they just keep looking at him expectantly.
Finally, abruptly, Izou says: “Who’s Sabo?”
He flinches. He wants to say, Nothing! Nobody at all. But he absolutely can’t say that about his brother.
Relentlessly, Izou continues. “Is he who your tattoo is for?”
Ace’s frozen smile drops, and he feels himself baring his teeth. “It’s none of your damn business.”
Whitebeard frowns. “Son, when it’s distracting you in the middle of a fight and causing you to wake up screaming, I’d say that makes it our business.”
Ace snarls. “It doesn’t.”
“Is he someone who left you behind?” Thatch hazards. “Someone you were separated from?”
Ace closes his eyes. He counts to ten, and they don’t leave. “He was my brother,” he grits out. “And he’s dead.”
He can feel the ripple of discomfort that sends through them– and it serves them right.
“And you’re… seeing him?” Marco says. “Does he speak to you?”
Ace sighs. “He’s haunting me.” They stare at him blankly, and he rolls his eyes. “Yes, I see him and I hear him. I’m not crazy. It was my fault he died, so– he’s haunting me to make sure I never forget it. Sorry if I… freaked you out, or whatever.”
Marco shakes his head. “Ace, we don’t care about that. We’re worried about you.”
Ace curls his lip. “Well, don’t be.”
“I don’t think you're crazy,” Marco says. “But whatever you think, I know that your brother wouldn’t have wanted you to live like this. Do you honestly think his... his ghost is following you around just to make your life miserable? Just to distract you in the middle of a battle, and leave you injured like this?”
“You didn’t know him,” Ace says, dangerous and quiet. “You don’t know a damn thing about him.”
“No, I don’t,” Marco says, implacable as ever. “That’s why I’m asking. Is that the kind of person that he was?”
Ace closes his eyes.
Of course he wasn’t. Of course not. Sabo was– too kind, always, to Luffy and to Ace. Too self-sacrificing, too soft, too good. Too good to have been born into a family of nobles, too good to grow up in the Grey Terminal, and definitely, absolutely too good to have been friends with Ace.
That’s the kind of person Sabo was. A good one.
And Ace was the selfish kid who set out the cups of sake, tying Sabo and Luffy to his bad blood for good.
“No,” he says. His throat feels like it was cut with knives, and his voice sounds like it, too. “Sabo was… kind.”
“Yeah?” Marco asks. He’s gentle, too gentle.
“Yeah,” Ace says, and unbearably, his voice breaks mid-word. “He was– he was the one with the plans to see the world, and to write a book about it, and to sail away– he was going to be free. Always, he said– he said he wanted to be free.”
“So why do you think he’d spend his afterlife hanging around you?” Thatch asks. His grin is as easy as ever, like Ace isn’t crying like a baby right in front of him. “Wouldn’t he spend his time haunting an author or something? Maybe a map-maker?”
“You’re such a dick,” Ace chokes out. “He loved following me around. He never left me alone.”
“Well, you’re an idiot,” Thatch says, and rubs his knuckles against his head. “How come you never said anything, huh? You think if one of us was haunted I wouldn’t want to be the first one to know?”
“You’d probably try to speak to him,” Ace manages, wiping at his eyes. “Do a seance, or something dumb. Like I’d let you bother Sabo like that.”
“Ah, you’re probably right,” Thatch says, grinning. “That does sound like me.”
“Ace,” Marco says slowly, looking at him with a curious expression, “when do you usually see Sabo?”
Ace shrugs. “At night, I guess. I always just thought it was easier for him to come out at night.”
“Like, when you’re just going to bed and just waking up?” Marco presses.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“And do you have trouble sleeping at night?”
“Sometimes,” Ace says, frowning. “Not like any of us keep real sleep schedules, right?”
“You don’t do night watch, though,” Izou says, crossing his arms. “All of your shifts are during the day.”
Ace scowls. “I don’t know. I guess. Why are you asking, anyway?”
“Just one more question,” Marco promises. “Besides appearing to you and speaking, does Sabo do anything else?”
Ace glances away. “I guess.”
“What does he do?”
“I mean, he… holds me in place sometimes.” Marco narrows his eyes, and Ace hurries to elaborate. “Like, usually when I’m just waking up, I can’t always move right away. I have to wait until Sabo goes away. But– but he’s just making sure that I’m paying attention, I think.”
Marco crosses his arms. “Ace, I don’t think Sabo’s haunting you.”
“You already said that,” Ace says, closing his eyes again. “But, look, even if he’s not trying to hurt me– what other explanation is there? Maybe he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.”
“Well,” says Marco, “one other explanation is that you have narcolepsy.”
Ace stares blankly at him. “What?”
Whitebeard and the other commanders look similarly confused.
“It’s a sleep condition,” Marco says. “Actually, I can’t believe I never thought about it before. Symptoms include sleep attacks, drowsiness, insomnia, sleep paralysis, and hallucinations. Which… are basically all symptoms you’re exhibiting.”
Ace stares at him. A strange hollowness fills him. “You think I’m… hallucinating?”
“It doesn’t mean you're crazy,” Marco says. “In fact, if it is narcolepsy, there’s medication that will probably cause the symptoms to fade.”
Ace shakes his head. “I don’t… I don’t…” He falls silent, his hands grasping uselessly at the sheets. “How do you know?”
“When did you start seeing Sabo?” Marco says. “Was it immediately after he died?”
Ace bites his lip. “I was about fifteen,” he says. “Sabo died when we were ten.”
“Well,” Marco says, smiling at him gently, “that’s one of the ages that people with narcolepsy usually start to experience it.”
Weirdly, Ace can feel tears welling up in his eyes again.
Thatch reaches out to take his hand. “Ace?” he asks quietly. “You okay, man?”
Ace shakes his head and uses his free hand to wipe his face. “So, all this time– it wasn’t actually him? It was just my stupid brain?”
“Well, first of all, your brain isn’t stupid,” Izou says primly. “And second of all, of course it was him. It’s how you remember him. You kept seeing him because he meant something to you. And even if he’s not here anymore, the way that you love him isn’t gone. That matters, Ace. That’s real.”
Ace’s vision blurs. “But he’s not really here. I love him, but– but he’s gone.”
“Hey, you were the one who said he loved to follow you around,” Thatch says gently, nudging their shoulders together. “Who says he’s not here, just because you can’t see him? We don’t have a damn clue what people get up to when they die.”
Ace laughs wetly. “I’m so– so selfish. I hope he’s not here, watching me whine like this.”
“My son,” says Whitebeard, and Ace looks up at him. His father’s eyes are very tender. “That is the first selfish thing you’ve said today.”
Ace’s face scrunches up, but his father continues–
“You miss him, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” Ace chokes out.
“Then wherever he is, don’t you think he also misses you?”
Ace sighs shakily. “My stomach hurts,” he says.
Jozu grins. “That doesn’t surprise me. That seastone hurt like a bitch.”
Marco whacks him on his uninjured shoulder. “Make yourself useful and go get Nurse Tate.” He turns back to Ace. “Look, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to start taking medication.”
Ace picks at his blankets. “But you think I should.”
“I think it will make life easier for you,” Marco admits. “All we want is for you to be happy.”
It’s a sentiment Ace doesn’t usually hear. Luffy has his own manner of expressing love for Ace, but he doesn’t use tender words like that. Dadan cares about him, but not out loud, and not where anyone can see it. And if Garp wants anything for Ace, it’s probably for him to defect from the Whitebeards and sign up for the Marines.
But Sabo spoke like that, once upon a time.
”I want you to be happy, Ace.”
Ace was happy with Sabo.
But Sabo is gone now. And whatever Ace thought about Sabo haunting him and following him around, it isn’t true.
And weirdly, in a way he couldn’t have expected, it’s almost a relief.
Because truly, that’s not what Ace wants for Sabo. Ace wants Sabo to be traveling the ocean, and seeing the world, and making friends. It’s impossible, and it can’t happen, but Ace wants for Sabo what Sabo always wanted for himself. And Thatch is an idiot, but he’s also right.
Sabo wouldn’t have wasted his life following his dumb brothers around. And Ace wouldn’t have wanted him to.
“No,” he says, exhaling through his mouth. His nose is all blocked up from crying. “I’ll try the medication.”
Whitebeard ruffles his hair with a massive hand, and Thatch hugs him. Izou flicks him on the nose, and Marco pats his thigh. Jozu comes back, and Nurse Tate has a look on her face like she’s about to enjoy pumping him full of drugs.
And strangely, Ace finds himself with a tiny smile on his face.
Sabo is gone. Ace will never see him again.
But Sabo will never be trapped again, either. He’ll never become what he always feared becoming. In Ace’s memories, he never ages, never leaves– he’s always Ace’s brother, gap-toothed and sun-burnt– and even if only for a little while, free.
And Ace has what he's always wanted, deep down. He has a family, and a father, and so many people who love him– he has things he never imagined he could have.
If Sabo knew, he would want him to enjoy it. He wouldn't want him to spend his time wishing for something he can never have back.
And Ace wants to do this for him– wants to try.
So he resigns himself to Nurse Tate sticking an IV back into him, and to eating only soup for the next couple of days, and to Marco's hovering and Izou not letting him out of bed.
He resigns himself to living while Sabo is dead, and enjoying his life despite it.
And he hopes that his brother, if he's watching, will be proud.