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Chapter Text

(Ace's POV)

"Thank you for loving me!" I jerk awake, gasping for breath, clutching at my chest, because Akainu punched a freaking hole in my chest, and Luffy was behind me-

Oh, Kami.*

Luffy. My stupid, dumb, idiot, of a brother jumped into Marineford to save me, falling from the sky, of all things, and then Akainu came along and punched a hole through my gut with a magma fist, and I died. 

I died.

So how am I breathing? Why is there no pain in my chest that I, the son of the devil, deserve?

And then a brown fluffy thing blocks my vision, and Thatch's pompadour,

"Hey, Teach! Good news, Portgas' alive and breathing!"

And my blood runs cold,

because Teach, that traitor, pokes his head through the door, and grins, with his chessboard teeth and all, and laughs.

"Zehahahahahahahaha!"

And I scream. My flames reach for the traitor, burning everything in their path, and the Moby is on fire and people are screaming, but all I can focus on is Teach's face, a mask of horror and pain as he burns to death-

And then the wood beneath creaks, the ship gives way, and the Moby goes up in flames.

And as the water's deathly grip closes in on me, I black out, and I can't remember anything else.

(Ace's POV)

It's been so long, I can barely remember what happened the first time.

In the original timeline, that is.

I've lived for too long, thousands of years, but stuck in an infinite loop, where each time I die, I wake up again on Oyaji's ship, in the beginning when I'm captured by the Whitebeard Pirates. And each time I die, it's after watching everyone I love die for me. Luffy. Marco. Oyaji. Thatch. Izo. Vista. Deuce. Haruta. And countless others.

Watching countless people die for me, one after another, made me break. (Not that I would ever admit it aloud.)

The first fifty three times, I went insane, on a rampage, and ended up killing the Whitebeards. (And it hurt to think about it, I had nightmares every time I sleep, but-)

The fifty fourth time, I finally understood what was happening, grasped the concept, and realized I had a chance to save my nakama.

But the universe hates a certain Portgas D. Ace, because every time, they all died. 

Did I mention the fact I never lived past the age of twenty- six?

So I stopped counting eventually, I stopped understanding the meaning of life, but I did know everyone who cared about me would all die, and I was too weak.

Useless.

Should have been drowned at birth. (Drowning was painless, compared to everything else I experienced.)

(Flashback)

War raged against the marines. Dodging an attack from an enemy, Ace laughed and punched him in the face, causing him to fly into an enemy giant. Whitebeard stood on top of the Moby, watching as his children fought. Sengoku stood on the opposite side. Then, suddenly, seastone bullets rained from above, catching Ace in the arm, but he didn't care. A distressed trill came from above, which Whitebeard looked up to, and he saw a certain blue phoenix with blond hair fall from the sky after getting fatally shot trying to protect a crewmember.

"MARCO!" Ace yelled, and he ran to the first mate, kneeling beside him.

The world faded into the background, the fights noiseless, and Ace barely caught Marco's last words.

"Sorry, Ace. I'm dead, but you live on- you deserve to be born."

And the Phoenix closed his eyes, and Ace wanted to scream, but he felt something else coming from his lips-

Laughter. HahahahahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-

He had a choice between burning the world down, crying, screaming until his throat bled, or laugh.

Ace, the coward he was, chose the latter.

Laughing like a maniac, Ace sobbed.

Then another bang went off, and time seemed to slow down, as Oyaji was attacked from behind, and blood splattered out of his chest, each drop making a sickening plop, plop, on the ground.

And Ace watched as one by one, his siblings, his nakama, were slaughtered, whether getting incinerated, blown up, mangled, stomped to a red smear, and Ace couldn't stop it.

Too weak.

Click. A gun cocked, and Ace felt the cold barrel pressed against his head.

"Second Commander, with all due respect, I'm gonna kill you now."

Com-Commander? The words registered vaguely in Ace's head.

"ZEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"

Teach?

He'd murdered all of his siblings, his brothers, a traitor, 

Hell, he was no worse than Ace.

Ace, the blood of a demon inside of him, cursed to endure the cycle, the loops, the resets, cursed to watch his family get slaughtered one by one before him-

And something inside of Ace broke-

And the gun went off, but Ace didn't hear the bang,-

And darkness swallowed him whole once more.

Reviews are much appreciated :)

Author out, until next time :D *Kami is god, but I prefer not to use god.

CROSSPOSTED ON FANFICTION.NET (I think)

Chapter Text

(Present Loop)

Bloody. Fucking. Hell.

Portgas D. Ace awoke to the sharp smell of antiseptic and lemon, his body laying on a white bed.

Groaning, he stared at the wooden ceiling above, as he thought about his last loop.

He'd made it to twenty-three, had joined Whitebeard, and then..?

He'd had a narcoleptic attack while standing on top of a staircase and proceeded to unceremoniously fall down, break his neck, and die.

All in all, not the worst way to go, Ace thought as he pressed his palms onto his eyes. He shuddered as he recalled the glassy, unseeing eyes of his nakama, in that one particularly bad loop.

The loop he saw every time he closed his eyes, that haunted his every waking moment, that served as a permanent reminder of how he was too weak to save everybody he cared about.

Ace wanted to scream, but laughter was better, right?

Unsettling giggles escaped from his mouth before he realized that if any passerby heard him, well, let's just say that they would be slightly unnerved by his laughter, the maniacal glint in his eyes, the creepy smile on his face. Plus, they wouldn't be convinced of his sanity.

Sure, he was only a little mentally unstable, but he'd already went to a therapist multiple times in many, many loops.

It didn't help. At all.

Well, shit. Maybe he had a lot more problems than he'd originally thought.

The first couple of times he'd been sent back in time, he'd foolishly thought that it was a chance to right all his wrongs, to save everyone he'd cared about. Well, now he didn't even know. He'd done so many things, making Oyaji the Pirate King, Luffy the Pirate King, hell, he'd once taken down the Gorosei of all things.

Ace groaned again, pushing himself up on his forearms. He'd done so many loops that he couldn't even remember the Spade Pirate's faces. Couldn't remember his first mate, Masked Deuce, couldn't even remember what Sabo looked like. And he was fucking sick of it all.

Killing Teach again and again, watching his family die again and again, watching too many wars unfold before him, knowing it was because a decision he made that caused a ripple in the timeline. Not to mention when he sometimes accidently killed a crewmember because he misjudged his own strength. Those loops were horrible, and he always killed himself afterwards, because he was unable to live with the guilt. Ace used to be a very prideful person, afterwards he saw his family die again and again after making the same prideful choice. Knowing it was his fault, his prideful nature was kicked out from him. Ace wasn't the same person as he had been in the original timeline. 

At least Ace kept his strength, his fighting style, and different techniques. Obviously, he couldn't use some of his techniques or his strength since he had way less muscle than he had in some timelines, but that could be regained.

Well, how should he play out this loop?

Ace hummed quietly to himself, his fingers drumming on the bed he was currently laying on.

He could be insane, (he already was), smart and calculative, shy and quiet, boring, someone who could easily be looked over without a second glance, or he could act like Luffy (he'd done that once.) Hell, he could join the marines, (which was sure to make Garp happy,) pretend to be an assassin, or maybe he should just be himself, (not like he even knew what the hell that was like anymore). Ace smiled humorlessly.

Suddenly, a brilliant idea popped into his mind. What if he acted like a complete and utter asshole, which, in retrospect, might get the Whitebeards to throw him off the ship and leave him behind without a second glance. He knew exactly which buttons to press, and when they finally grew tired of him and left him, they would be safe, and he would be safe, and everything would be fine, and maybe the universe would decide they were done with him and he could just pass away peacefully.

Yeah, right. Shit never goes right with a "D."

Ace nodded to himself. He knew it would hurt to treat his nakama like this, but it would only hurt him. Not the Whitebeard Pirates. They wouldn't even care.

Well, fuck it. Let's go with this.

The door to the Medbay opened with a creak, and Thatch popped his head in.

"Hey, Teach! Good news, Portgas' alive and breathing!"

And Teach laughs, but Ace is used to it all, but that doesn't stop his knuckles tightening.

Unclenching his knuckles, he remembers the plan. Act like a complete asshole. I can do this.

"WHERE THE FUCK AM I, AND WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY CREW?" Ace yells at Thatch, stalking to the Medbay door. (Teach walks past the door to go do something.)

Thatch only laughs and says "Not a morning person, are you?"

But Ace expected this reply, and so  he only growls and shoves the middle finger in Thatch's face. And he puts a dagger to his throat. (Not that he would actually kill Thatch.)

Thatch, unconcerned of the dagger currently pressing against his jugular, says "You slept for a couple of days, you must be really hungry. Come on, I'll go make you some food."

Ace's stomach growls at the mention of food, and Ace remembers how good Thatch's food is, but Ace still spits "How the hell will I know if you haven't poisoned your shitty food?"

Thatch pouts, and grabbing Ace's hand (still blatantly ignoring the dagger at his throat) and drags him to a room in the Moby. "This is where you'll be staying until you join our crew. Also, You shouldn't play with knives," Thatch says, pouting again, and Ace glares at him, giving him his best shit face, but slowly removes the dagger from his throat.

"I'll be back in a few minutes!" Thatch chirps and walks to the kitchen to prepare food.

Ace slams the door shut and thinks. Well, to be a complete asshole, I should probably try to take Whitebeard's head right now.

Funny, Ace knows the whole ship better than Oyaji and Marco, even though they were on the Moby Dick the longest. Slipping into the ventilation system, Ace crawls to where he knows is an unlocked weaponry.

Ace sneaks inside, and his eyes land on a nice big axe. Perfect, Ace thinks.

Marco groans, hand running down his face.

He was going to have so much paperwork.

Somehow, their resident Fire-brat snuck into the weaponry, found an axe, then proceeded to make his way up to the main deck, launch himself up at Oyaji, and attempt to take his head.

And he'd made it to the weaponry without anyone noticing.

Well, Thatch was bringing him some food now, so hopefully the fiery teen would calm down.

Oh, how wrong he was.

"Acey, I've brought you some food~" Thatch sings.

"Get the fuck out," was the reply.

Thatch, unfazed, sets the food down. "It's not poisoned! Look!" Thatch sticks a spoon in, and tastes it. "Oh wait- I'm dying-" Thatch chokes and dramatically falls to the ground.

"Get the fuck out," Ace coldly repeats, and sets the food on fire. It burns to ashes.

Thatch, once again upright, has a hurt expression flash across his face, before quickly being replaced by a mask of indifference. Ace opens his mouth to apologize, an apologetic expression flashing across his face, but quickly slams his mouth shut.

Shit. Did he catch that? 

Thatch sighs. "That was perfectly good food," he says making puppy dog eyes. "You really should eat, it's not good for you, please?"

Ace, reforming a facade, heartlessly replies, "No. Can you please get the fuck out?" Ace asks, purposely stretching the please.

Thatch sighs and walks out of the room. Ace slams the door behind him.

Ace groaned and, his back to the door, slid down with his hands pressed on his face.

Well, shit. This was going to be way harder than he'd thought.

Thatch leaves the room, mind spinning. What just happened?

Ace looked like he wanted to apologize, but changed his mind last minute.

Not minute. Last second. He looked really sad for some reason, almost like he knew it would hurt me and wanted to apologize...

Is he okay?

One thing for sure, Thatch was going to pull a "Mother Hen" move on Ace and monitor him closely from now on.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnddddddddddddddddddddddddddd that's a wrap :D see Y'all next time :D Thank y'all for comments, kudos, and stuff, much appreciated :DDDDD

Chapter Text

Ace flew through at least six different walls before stopping and leaving and Ace-like dent in the seventh.

Clutching the new injury he sported on his arm, he cursed, sitting up. 

After Thatch had brought him food (that he'd burned to ashes) he hadn't been able to sleep, and consequently had spent the night tossing and turning in bed. What other way to cure his boredom than to attempt to assassinate Oyaji -

Attempt to assassinate Whitebeard. He couldn't think of the Whitebeard Pirates as his family anymore. Because every time they got close to him, in only ended up hurting them more, and it was his fault, and he was too weak , too useless ,-

Stop , Ace reprimanded himself. If he went on with that line of thinking, he'd only end up heading down a spiral of self-loathing and depression, and once that happened he would break even more , both emotionally and physically. That wouldn't be good for him or his wonderful plan to get the Whitebeards to hate him. Then, of course, the Whitebeard Pirates would notice once he got all sad and depressed and they would try to make him better and pity him, and say they understood what he was going through, but they didn't. Not at all. De nada. Ace was fairly certain they weren't stuck in a time loop, like he was.

Ace stood up, swaying slightly on his feet, not even grimacing at the pain. He was used to it. After all, he'd been tortured by Teach in one timeline, where he'd somehow found out about Ace's parentage and kidnapped him. Then of course there was that timeline, that Ace had nightmares about every night. Not to mention the one where he'd been kidnapped by Kaido and been clubbed many times with Kaido's spiked club thing. Ace didn't even know the word for it.

His latest attempt at Oya- Whitebeard's head hadn't gone well. He'd planned a sneak attack, and in the dead of night had swung a kairoseki dagger at his throat. He'd been swatted through multiple walls like a fly . Oh well. He expected nothing less from Shirohige. It's not like he actually wanted to kill him. He just wanted to be thrown off the ship.

Shouts were heard in the distance. Ace sighed. With his luck, he'd probably woken the whole crew, at the very least half the ship with all the commotion.

Stepping out of the wreckage of what used to be walls, he casually went back to "his" room, glaring at any bleary-eyed pirate who happened crossed his path. He saw Marco  and Thatch run past, and he quickly ducked behind a shadowy corner hoping they didn't notice him. Once he was in the clear, he continued to his room, opening the door, and closing it afterward. He laid down in the bed, ignoring the throb on his forearm, closing his eyes even though he didn't want to sleep. Not like he could anyway, in his current mental state. He usually stayed awake as many nights as possible until he collapsed out of exhaustion. He could almost hear Makino's angry tut, tut if she learned about his sleeping habits.

Ace could only remember that Makino had olive-green hair and wore a bandanna. Sure, in some timelines he'd visited Luffy, but meeting him to early always resulted in something bad. In most cases, Garp went after him, saw his personality change (What change? He didn't have any change, aside from the fact he wasn't exactly mentally stable) and proceeded to go crazy and start an all-out war with the Whitebeard Pirates. It had happened more than once, and in all of those timelines, Luffy, Garp, Oya- Whitebeard, Marco, Thatch, everyone died one by one. Like weeds being uprooted then burned.

Of course there was that one timeline where he'd visited Luffy, and in that timeline things had gone horribly wrong.

Ace shuddered and turned over, but something at the dark corners of his mind tugged at him, then Ace gave in to the feeling and knew nothing more.

Feel the pain that the past left, I will keep fighting until my last breath
No witch forgets me, shadow of envy, rip through my chest until my heart bled
Start again, learning the steps of the dance of death
Start again, timelines diverging to the darkest depths

It was raining, but Ace didn't care. He walked the trail to where Dadan and her mountain bandits lived.

He had to see Luffy's smiling, cheerful face, or he'd go insane. (He had to he HAD to HE HAD TO)

And he knocked on the door, and Luffy opened it, and his smile was so blinding that Ace couldn't help but light up with joy. "Luffy!"

"Ace! I missed you so, so much!" Luffy yelled, crying as he flew into Ace's opened arms. And Ace accepted him with open arms, and scanned his smiling, tear-stained face, commiting his smile to memory, because if he forgot it he would lose it. "I missed you too," Ace said, but Luffy would never know the gravity of those words. Ace had missed Luffy for hundreds of loops.

So distracted were the two that they didn't notice the cloaked figure watching them, hidden amongst the treetops.

"Brat," growled Dadan from the doorway. 

And Ace had forgotten what she'd looked like, but his faced lit up with a warm smile. "I missed all of you," he said. "Thank you for taking care of me and this idiot, over here." He gestured to Luffy.

He had just got here, and planned to go hunting with Luffy.

But he hadn't known how soon he'd have to say goodbye.

Moments later, the sun shone through the clouds, and Ace had asked Luffy if he'd wanted to go hunting. (Naively.)

Luffy said yes, so the two grabbed their pipes and as they walked through the forest Luffy chattered endlessly.

"Ne, Ace, did you know that there's a croc lord now?"

"Ne Ace, did you know that Makino came over, She brought me some really, really cool shirts! I wish you were there to see it, though...."

"Ne Ace, Garp might come over today, he mentioned that at our last visit."

"Ne Ace... are you okay?"

The innocent question jerked Ace out from the darkest depths of his mind. "Yes, Luffy, I'm okay." He forced a smile on his face.

But he'd forgotten how Luffy had inhumane skills at reading people.

Frowning, Luffy stuck his tongue out. "No, Ace! You're really sad and stuff. I can feel it. Tell me, pleeaaaseee? I can make it better, because I'm strong, and I can just fight whatever's bothering you off!"

Ace smiled softly. "I'm not sure if you could fight this off , Luffy." 

Indeed, the weight and memories of all the timelines, loops, he'd gone through, he had suffered trauma and depression amongst other issues.

Luffy gasped, offended. "Excuse me? I'm so strong now. I bet I could beat you in a spar right NOW!"

But Ace froze at the word "Now," because it wasn't Luffy saying that, but instead Sengoku. And the marines were rushing his family, and they were all dying one by one-

But then Luffy yelled "Ace, behind you!"

Ace, distracted by his thoughts, almost didn't dodge the kairoseki knife aiming for his face. He was cut on the upper arm-

Right over the "C" in his ASCE tattoo-

And only one thought was in his mind, one word over and over again, a steady drumbeat.

Luffy.

Three masked men surrounded Ace. but he made quick work of them. 

He was scanning everywhere for Luffy before their bodies hit the ground.

Then he heard Luffy scream, and Ace ran after the men who dared to kidnap his brother,

And as he followed the sound and saw the signs of a scuffle, he turned a corner in the forest.

There he was, Luffy in all his struggling glory, fighting against five men who held him down and clamped a kairoseki handcuff on his swrist.

Luffy collapsed from exhaustion and he was loaded on-

Ace's blood ran cold. A slave ship. He would recognized the symbol from anywhere.

And all the villagers were being loaded up, one by one.

Except for him.

He had done this. He had brought the slavers on his brother.

And now everyone would suffer the consequences because of his mistake.

What had he done wrong in the timeline? What had he done to cause this?

Luffy's dream was to be the King of the Pirates, the freest man in the world-

And now Luffy would never have that because of Ace, a stain on the world, someone who shouldn't exist-

And lost in his thoughts, Ace didn't notice the ship sailing away from the harbor before it was too late.

He ran to Striker, his boat and tried to close the gap- 

And he lurched awake with a gasp, cold sweat running down his back.

We descend, take my life, I'll bleed instead, I'll clean this mess
Make sure they're free of death, I mean the best
Somеtimes I'm stuck on the fence
Problems won't work out the way I intend

Ace rolled over, unintentionally out of the bed. He landed on the wooden floor with a thump.
He sat up and shook his head hard, clearing out the remnants of the dream. Cursing, he sat up as his stomach growled, demanding food.

"Yes, yes, I'll feed you," Ace said to his stomach before realizing how insane he would sound talking to nothing. He stalked out of his room and looked in a random person's room for a fishing rod. (He was supposed to act like an asshole, right? That included a violation of privacy. Besides, he'd used his observation haki beforehand, and there was no one in the room.) After stealing a fishing rod, he proceeded to make his way up to the main deck, After years of time traveling, he knew the Moby so well he could travel the whole length in his sleep. Ace picked a secluded area he'd often used in the past where watchers up on the crow's nest couldn't see him and it was right next to the sea. Perfect for fishing. 

He cast his bait, a random beetle he'd found, and waited patiently.

Marco sat in the dining hall with Thatch.

"That brat, yoi" he said, cursing under his breath.

Thatch hummed thoughtfully. "Don't get your feathers in a twist, turkey." 

He was slapped upside the head.

"I swear, if he's going after Oyaji every day, I will have so much paperwork. I have to take over the second division too, since they don't have a Commander." Marco could already see, in his mind's eye, the hellish amount of paperwork piling up.

Sixteenth Commander Izo plopped himself down on Marco's left side.

"He went after Oyaji in the middle of the night. Honestly, couldn't he have waited until the morning?"

A crash was heard, along with someone cursing heavily. One Portgas D Ace skidded to a stop, next to Thatch, flames licking at his shoulders, fishing pole in his hand.

"Speak of the devil, and he shall appear-yoi" Marco muttered under his breath.

How exactly did he get there? Well, let's go back to find out....

Ace sighed. No luck at fishing, they were probably in an area without any fish. He was so, so hungry, though.

Oh well. Time to go try to kill Oya-Whitebeard. With what, though?

He looked thoughtfully at the fishing pole in his hands. Hmmmm....

Shrugging, he stepped out of his spot and made his way around the entirety of the deck, before he was right next to Oyaji's giant chair. He'd hidden his presence well.

Jumping from the left, he swung his fishing pole....

At Whitebeard, who was drinking sake.

Ace cursed mentally. He remembered that one timeline where Oyaji died because he'd drank too much. The light died from his eyes. He couldn't kill Oyaji. No, Whitebeard-

Redirecting the fishing pole's trajectory, he aimed it at the sake bottle instead. It exploded into pieces. (Ace may or may not have lighted it on fire.)

Whitebeard frowned, annoyed. Was this karma? He shouldn't have been drinking sake before the afternoon....

But that was a perfectly fine jug of sake.

He swung his arm, and Ace was consequently flung through walls until he reached the dining hall.

The commanders blinked at the sudden appearance of Ace.

Izo had his jaw hanging open, as Ace jumped to his feet, plopping his orange cowboy hat on his head.

Ace looked around. He had to conciously stop himself from bowing and saying "Sorry for disturbing your meal..."

Where had that come from?

The injury on his arm throbbed again, like lightning coursing through his veins.

He looked  and saw Marco, Thatch and Izo...

He couldn't deal with all three of them right now. Too much emotional stress. He growled irritably, glaring at the three commanders.

"No sorry for disturbing our meal?" Thatch asked jokingly. Izo regained his composure, while Marco sat quietly, a mask of simple indifference.

Marco narrowed his eyes as something brief passed over the teen's face, too fast for him to read. The brat was an enigma. (Yoi.)

Ace frowned. "I'm so terribly sorry for disturbing your meal. I really do hope you choke on your food and die," he said, voice dripping with venom and sarcasm.

Was that good enough? Will that convince them that I'm an ungrateful brat, undeserving of a family? 

Izo frowned. Ace was very rude. But the state of his clothes was even worse.

The commanders watched him as he smouldered then walked out, the same thought on their minds.

What the fuck just happened?

Ace groaned as he made his way back to the safety of his room.

He'd played his part badly. He froze for a second, seeing Marco and Izo.

He saw their bloody corpses instead.

He forced a painful smile on his face. It looked like a stoical grin-it-and-bear-it expression, a grimace.

Make the ends softer. More teeth. Stop the maniacal glint in his eyes.

That was better. (Not really.)

He was fine. (No, he wasn't.)

He laughed, a long, broken note, sad, insane, angry, happy-

He didn't know what he felt.

He definetly was eccedentesiast.

Marco frowned as Izo left the table, presumably to follow Ace.

"Did you see that too?" Thatch asked.

"Yeah. As in an infinite spiral of sadness, depression, loneliness, and self-hate?-yoi" Marco asked, finally identifying the expression.

Thatch looked at him, surprised. "I only figured out sadness and self-hate."

"The depression and loneliness were a guess-yoi."

"Oh."

...

"I'm going to follow Ace," Thatch said, out of the blue.

"You mean stalk?" asked Marco.

"Yup."

"Oh, I'll help too."

AAAAAAAAAAAaaand im don. PLz comment i need help

Also trhank yall fo r comments and kudos :DDD

todays my grandpas bd :DDDD

Chapter Text

Steps echoed in the hallway.

A man, blonde and clad in black and blue noble-like clothes, stopped in front of a hooded man, the candlelight dancing, creating eerie shadows on the wall.

"Your next mission is to infiltrate the Navy HQ and find the psychological evaluation of every marine," the hooded man said to the other.

"The Navy HQ where Garp the Fist resides? That'll be tricky," the man in black replied.

"Don't chicken out now." The light was raised, revealing the hooded man had tattoos down one side of his face and raven hair.

"You'll be traveling with Koala," the man continued, handing a file to the man in black and blue.

The other smirked. "You think she'll keep me out of trouble? And why the psychological evaluation of every marine?"

"No, and blackmail," deadpanned the other male. 

The blonde groaned as he walked away.”Of course, it’s blackmail.”

The hooded man watched the retreating figure, as he walked away.

"One more thing."

The man in black and blue turned around, his eyes shadowed.

"Please don't wear your top hat, it's far too recognizable."

The other dressed in noble-like clothes smirked. “We’re Revolutionaries, we stick to the shadows. How would we be recognized?”

Then he was gone.

Izo frowned as he followed the irritable, fiery teenager.

There was just something that felt off about him, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Oh well, he’ll figure it out later. He always did.

But the more pressing matter was the state of Ace’s clothes. If there were bounties for people with bad clothes, Ace would be the most wanted man in the world.

He slammed open the door to Ace's room, grabbing the teen by the collar of his- no, he couldn't even call it a shirt.

"You're coming with me," Izo said, dragging the teen by his collar. He kept a strong grip even though Ace thrashed, kicked, and fought. Ace had even resorted to trying to bite him. Who raised him? Wolves?

(He wasn't far from the truth.)

Ace seemed resigned to his fate, though Izo could feel the menacing aura radiating off the teen’s body. 

The two finally reached Izo’s room, where Ace was practically thrown inside the room.

“You will stay there and you will not move. Your clothes suck. Understood?’ Izo practically threatened the brat.

Ace nodded meekly. The only thing that was going through his mind was the fact that Izo could be pretty damn scary when he wanted to. It was hard to forget they weren’t siblings.

Izo began tossing different colored shirts over his shoulder, mumbling quietly to himself.

Ace was completely and utterly lost. Sure, Izo’s actions were familiar (so very, very familiar) but Ace couldn’t place where he’d seen them.

Ace also recognized the room. It was the one that he’d stolen the fishing pole from. Whoops.

Right on cue, Izo muttered irritably “and where the hell did I place my fishing pole, it’s not here…”

A neon orange shirt was thrown at Ace, and he almost choked on his saliva. He liked orange, but not this bright. The color itself was enough to banish his dark thoughts.

What the-” Ace choked again. He felt like he was dying.

“No?” Izo hummed thoughtfully, drumming his fingers on his kimono. Then he threw four shirts, all varying shades from garish yellow to ridiculously bright red. Ace’s eyes burned.

“I don’t need your shitty-ass clothes!” Ace managed to gasp.

Izo frowned. “But you wear bright colors.”

“That doesn’t mean I like wearing them all the time!” Ace retorted, completely forgetting about his plan to be rude.

Izo stepped back, deep in thought as he analyzed Ace’s body structure, before rummaging through his closets again for more clothes again. Ace attempted to open the door to get away from his personal hell, but no such luck. The situation would have been funny if he weren’t the one in this position. Ace became buried within the sheer amount of clothes Izo had in his closet. He could practically hear Thatch’s voice saying “The poor soul. He won’t know what hit him.”

At the main hall, Thatch sneezed violently. Marco handed him a tissue.

Finally, Izo pulled out a button up that was blue in color, but not one so absurdly bright. It was stretchy and fit comfortably.

Izo didn’t even wait for Ace’s approval. All he said was “Next, pants.”

Ace had a look of utter horror upon his face, while Izo flashed him a Cheshire smile that could rival the devil’s himself.

Thatch talked with Marco in the dining hall.

“If Izo really did go to get the kid better clothes, well, there’s no coming out of that situation intact with your sanity.”

Marco frowned. “But didn’t Pops pick him up because he was insane?”

“Good point. Fire fist’s one hell of a rookie. He’s just really sad and lonely.”

Marco nodded agreeably. Thatch sneezed again.

“Okay, who’s gossiping about me?” Thatch yelled in exasperation.

Haruta popped his head in. “Well, Ace is currently getting drowned in clothes. While cursing and trying to escape. Serves him right, I guess for trying to kill Oyaji.”

“Come on, Haruta, Izo isn’t that bad. And what do you mean by ‘serves him right’?” Marco questioned.

“Oh yes, Izo is ,” Thatch and Haruta said in unison.

“And wait a second, how do you know what Ace is doing-” Marco started.

Haruta disappeared.

Marco groaned. He could feel the impending headache.

 (Six Hours Later.)

Ace finally escaped from Izo, scowling as he walked down the hallway. He still had to "kill" Whitebeard. How should he attempt to kill him this time?

Ace passed by a food storage. Oh well, he would eat first. He quickly stole a couple loaves of bread, a little bit of meat. The Whitebeard Pirates wouldn't notice. They had 1,600 crewmembers to feed after all.

Lost in thought, he wandered to a hidden passage he'd found exploring the ship once. Now he could think about his plan in peace.

Marco hated being called a "pineapple, turkey, bird-brain, chicken," and any insult related to the bird spectrum or a type of fruit.

Thatch absolutely hated food getting wasted. Thatch would be really hard to piss off though. He was too kind and forgiving.

He could provoke Izo by questioning and/or ridiculing the type of clothes he wore. Ace learned that the hard way in a past time-loop by asking an innocent question relating to Izo's fashion choices.

Haruta being called short, weak, looked upon as a child, or anything of the sort.

Namur... he hated being discriminated against as a Fishman. (Ace knew he couldn't say that to his face. He couldn't stoop that low, even if he wanted to look like an asshole.)

He supposed if he insulted Oyaji ( No, their Oyaji) enough times the crewmembers would hate him, mob him. throw him off the edge of the ship, and leave him to drown.

(He really, really didn't want to do this. He wanted to be welcomed into the family and live happily ever after, just like the fairy tales. That never worked.)

Stop being so selfish. Go kill Whitebeard already, you coward. And everything will be fine, and you can sneer and snarl through the pain as always. That felt really motivational.

Lucky me.

Steeling his resolve, Ace let his eyes grow cold, emotionless, uncaring. He didn't care about the crewmembers on deck. (Yes, he did.)

He was Portgas D Ace, and he was an asshole. (No, he just wanted to save his family.)

Making his way through the secret passageway, he reached the back of Whitebeard's chair. Over the process of trial and error, Ace had learned how to hide his presence completely, even from an Admiral, Yonko, Garp .

Here we go.

Ace let a tiny bit of killing intent seep out, letting Whitebeard know he was there to kill him. (If a rookie hid his presence so well a Yonko couldn't sense it, it would raise a tidbit of unnecessary questions that would be lots of unnecessary trouble.)

He let his fire take over and do the work for him.

And the deck of the Moby was scorched with a wild inferno.

But Ace had let his flames run wild too much. He saw, with perfect clarity, the way Vista's eyes widened in surprise as the flames reached out to him-

Shit. Shit, no-

Ace was back at Marineford again. Laughing wildly, he released his flames, a crazed, psychotic grin etched onto his face. He lost control, and the flames reached out to scorch both allies and enemies. He remembered Vista's horrified face as the flames reached out to him, drawing him closer,

Like how Sabo probably died.

Ace unintentionally let loose a burst of conqueror's haki, pulling him back to the present.

I'm here now. This isn't the past.

Wait. Here now is me attacking Whitebeard-

Ace looked up just in time to see a giant fish crash down on him. Then all he saw was the deck of the Moby before he lost consciousness. The flames on the Moby sputtered and died out.

Want to go back, there's still things to amend
How could these people forget about REM?
We can't keep living in agony, I got these fears and my guilt that stay dragging me
I know I have to be pushing through tragedies, shoulder their burdens 'til I'm past capacity

Marco was very, very stressed. Dealing with a certain D carrier was even worse than having to deal with Thatch and Haruta's pranks.

Really, he almost hurt Vista because he was careless of his flames, although to be fair he was trying to kill Whitebeard and (intentionally?) being an asshole.

Of course, he got so much paperwork because of it. Watching from the crow's nest though, he had watched as the teen's eyes grew disturbingly cold, sad, regretful. He had always been good at reading emotions through years of being on the sea.

Ace had only been on the Moby for three days. To be fair, if the "Izo treatment" was really as bad as Thatch and Haruta claimed, he could see why the teen was pissed off.

Marco had dealt with these kinds of people before. They all joined the crew through poking, prodding (general violence), (mostly done by the Commanders and Pops) and last but not least, kidnapping.

Marco had dealt with depression before. It wasn't new to him at all. A combination of both could spell out trouble. (Not to mention that Conqueror's haki, he didn't even want to start unraveling the mystery of Portgas D ace. He knew he would though.)

Who was he kidding? D's were always trouble. After all, the brat stormed his way through the Grand Line, turned down the offer of The Seven Warlords of the Sea , (by crashing a marine ship into the HQ that said "Fuck no, I will not become a Warlord :D") and then proceeded to fight Jinbe for five days straight .

Then he got knocked out by Oyaji, and yada yada yada. D's would always bring up a storm.

He and Thatch were going to help the teen, make him become part of his family whether they wanted him or not.

Vista might hold a grudge though, since his moustache got singed. (And half burnt off.)

But first, he had paperwork to do before he could deal with his sibling's problems. Marco sighed as he turned to the abnormally large and ridiculous stack of paper should have been.

Key word: should.

"THATCH, HARUTA, I SWEAR WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU-"

Thatch and Haruta felt a shiver go down their spines. They resisted the urge to go hide in Stefan's doghouse.

Ace groaned as he awoke. His head throbbed. 

He was looking at the ceiling of the medbay, the sharp smell of antiseptic and lemon-

Shit. Did he reset?

No, he hadn't. He had been attacking Whitebeard, when he had hurt Vista.

No, he hadn't. Almost .

Maybe that would prove to the Whitebeard Pirates he was a dangerous liability, a burden, a bomb ticking just waiting for the right time to explode.

Oh well. You couldn't get everything you wanted in life, because life wasn't fair.

Ace paused. That was a lie. The only thing fair about life is that it's unfair to everyone .

He just got really unlucky. That was right. He was right. (He was good at lying. He had always been good at lying, a trait he'd picked up from Sabo. Just not good at lying to himself.)

Deep down, Ace knew the Whitebeard Pirates wouldn't abandon him yet.

Yet.

Why the hell was he moping around, acting depressed? Bottle his sorrows up. Be happy.

He smiled. Everything was normal.

The door to the medbay opened, and a certain pompadour headed man sauntered into the room.

Ace automatically scowled, dropping his smile. Well great. I've got a wonderful facade now.

"The fuck do you want?" he growled brusquely.

"Well, you're in the medbay, 'cuz Oyaji got a bit careless and may have knocked you unconcious, because you played a little too hard. And burned half of Vista's moustache off. He is so pissed right now, it's funny," Thatch answered cheerfully.

"Anyway, brother, do you mind being a little more careful with your attacks? You could have injured Vista," Thatch continued.

Ace grimaced. It pained him to say this, but he was good at acting. Years of experience. "I. Am. Not. Your. Brother. Get that through your thick head, and fuck off." 

"Please," Ace added as an afterthought, but Thatch could tell it was fake.

"And don't worry. I'll go jump off the ship after I kill Whitebeard," Ace added, grinning toothily at Thatch. It felt normal to joke around with him. After all, they were brothers, right?

Oh wait. They weren't not in this timeline- Shit, I messed up (again.) I usually scowl and growl and whatever shit, not smile.

What if I try to make them think I'm a spy? That'll work. Definitely.

Ace kept smiling. Thatch looked concerned. Oh wait, it was because he mentioned he would jump off the ship . After he killed Whitebeard. That was true. If he ever did kill Oya-Whitebeard, he would end the loop as soon as possible. (He was a devil fruit user, he couldn't swim. Oh well. Thatch might take the suicidal comment as a joke.)

The look in Thatch's eyes told him that he didn't take Ace's comment as a joke. How unfortunate.

"Aaaannyways," Thatch continued, as if he wasn't disturbed, "You were out for a week. It's around dinnertime now. Pops didn't really- ah - control his strength that well, after Vista almost got hurt."

Perfect, Ace thought. A way to get under Whitebeard's skin. Insult his sons, maybe. Wait a second, he'd been out for a week?

If he remembered right from the last timeline, they would be arriving on Coaco Island tomorrow. Something important happened there, he couldn't remember what.

Screw it. He'd figure it out as he went. Live without regrets, right? He promised that to Luffy.

Oh, how many times he broke that promise was laughable.

Thatch grabbed Ace by his arm, dragging him to the kitchens. Ace, dazed from Thatch's fast pace, eventually gathered himself. Yanking his arm from Thatch's grip, (it throbbed again for some reason) he growled "What the hell?"

"You're malnourished," Thatch pointed out.

Ace looked down at his uncovered stomach. He could count the ribs jutting out. That would explain the slight pain in his stomach. But what the hell was up with his arm? It had hurt for the last couple of days...

From the day he attacked Whitebeard in the middle of the night...

The aroma of food dragged him out of his thoughts. Thatch hopped from foot to foot, bouncing around like a kid who'd eaten far too much candy.

Ace looked up, only to be met with the sight of a slab of meat being shoved down his throat. "What the hell?" he gasped, choking before swallowing the meat.

Damn, that food was good though. Maybe he could eat. Just a little.

"...It's decent," Ace grudgingly admitted. He'd almost forgotten what Thatch's food tasted like.

Shit. His plan to act like an asshole. Stop being so selfish and get out of their hair already.

His muscles froze. He dropped his utensil, pushed his unfinished plate of food already, and left the kitchen quickly.

Making his way to the top of the figurehead, he sat deep in thought. He couldn't be drawn into their pace. He couldn't . It was for their own good.

Slamming the figurehead angrily, Ace groaned. Fucking hell. This was so damn hard.

Why couldn't he remember simple solutions? (Not so) Simple problem: Save his damn family. Do whatever it takes. And break the loop.

Simple solution: Act like an asshole, get them to reject you, and when they do, get as far away from them as possible. Then they would be safe.

He couldn't remember that. Maybe he should end the loop. He'd messed things up enough.

He gazed at the water wistfully. If only it were that simple. He hoped that when he died one day, one thousand years later, the afterlife would be a lot peaceful.

HIs damn demon blood probably caused this. Son of Roger, shouldn't have been born, shouldn't exist.

He let a smile creep onto his face. His eyes stung, but it was just the salt water.

And he laughed. Laughed his pain and worries off, his fingernails clutching into his sides.

An hour later, Ace felt better. 

When he finally returned to his borrowed room, he just lay awake all night.

No dreams, stay awake, don't dream of the incident.

Of course, his exhausted mind and body betrayed him.

They're like my family, they won't be casualties, witches and cultists, they have the audacity
Mess with mortality, I know it's selfish, but I'll keep on working to stop the catastrophe

Ace cried as he stared, searching the horizon desperately for the slaver's ship.

Narcolepsy hit him at the last minute, right when Luffy had needed him the most.

He's failed his brother(s) again. Useless. Weak.

He pounded the ground, sobbing uncontrollably, losing his mind.

Ace stayed that way for the next couple of days, refusing to eat.

Finally, Marco came to pick him up, to see what was wrong. He found Ace in a disheveled, depressed state among the ruins of what used to be Foosha village.

Marco brought Ace and his ship, Striker back. Ace refused to say what was wrong.

Ace remained in shock. Didn’t move for a week. A month. He was moved to the medbay.

Finally, Oyaji came to talk to Ace, and Ace finally told everything, the events that had occurred, including the time-travel.

Oyaji listened to every word he said. Ace could trust Oyaji. He knew that Pops would believe him.

He just wasn’t sure about everyone else. They would think he was insane, crazy, delusional.

And he was right.

Izo, Haruta, Vista all didn’t believe him.

At least Marco, Thatch, and Pops did.

He called Garp to tell him about Luffy. Garp predictably got angry and raged for days, furious at the loss of his youngest grandson.

Ace pulled himself out of his depressed state and began to search.

Search for Luffy. The bastards had better not branded him. If they did, Ace would never forgive himself.

Ace searched for weeks, months. He even ran into a top-hatted man named “Sabo.” But it wasn’t his Sabo. He didn’t know who Ace was.

Ace punched him in the face and ran away.

He continued his search. A year passed.

Then Ace finally arrived in Sabaody Archipelago, in a last ditch attempt to find Luffy.

The announcer came on stage, dressed in bright neon colors, grinning sadistically.

It took all of Ace’s willpower not to throw up.

“And now, we’re presenting a rare specimen, a slave who ate the Gum Gum Fruit! It gives the user properties of rubber.”

The spotlight opened. The curtains did as well.

And Monkey D Luffy, still wearing his straw hat, was yanked forcefully out.

Ace snapped at that point. He burned the auction house to the ground. He used Ryuo to break the bomb collar off Luffy. He was still weakened by his seastone cuffs though.

Luffy had grinned, a smile so free and full of joy despite being locked up for two years as a slave.

“Ace came for me! I knew he would!” Luffy had proclaimed proudly.

And Ace took Luffy and ran. He had to go before the Admiral came.

And an Admiral did come. Who else, but Akainu?

Ace threw off the covers. He had at least woken up before the worst part happened. Shaking his head, he pulled himself to the present.

Then the ship groaned and swayed. Ace heard various shouts coming from outside.

“We’ve landed!”

“Coaco Island, here we come!”

“Dammit… I hate this time of the year…”

Ace felt adrenaline coursing through his veins. His murder attempt on Po-Whitebeard could hold on for now. He hadn’t been on land for a week.

Excitedly, Ace slammed open the door, only to be met with a bucket of ice-cold water to the face.

Aaaannd im doNe here i decided to post on Thanksgiving, I’ll try to post another chapter by Sunday

If i dont meet the deadline, well, extra long chapter i guess???

Have a nice day :D (sorry, cliffhanger) Comments, Kudos, Bookmarks are welcomed and appreciated :D!!

P.S... My super devious plot has gone into action *Laughs evilly*

Chapter Text

Not for the first time, Ace cursed Thatch.

For whatever reason, the dumbass had decided to rigg a bucket of water over the door, so the first person who opened it would get a very, very cold surprise.

Needless to say, it wasn't pleasant.

Then, the idiot dragged (see: forced) Ace to come stock up on food supplies with him.

Ace didn't understand. He had been acting like a cruel bastard for the entire time he was on the Moby. Why couldn't they just let him go?

Then they would be safe and happy, Ace sad and depressed, but hey, at least they would live .

Maybe he needed to take his rudeness and hostility up a notch.

Currently, Thatch was bartering with a merchant on Coaco Island, ignoring the shouts and screams.

Shouts and screams?

Coaco Island was infamous for the notorious pirate crews, marines, slave traders, and even Revolutionaries that docked here.

If Ace saw any slave traders, well, let’s just say they would go to the afterlife the hard way.

In other words, Coaco Island was a lawless town. Fights broke out a lot.

But Thatch, being the civilized, kind-hearted pirate that he was, actually paid for the supplies. Ace supposed it was considerate. But since he was so damn kind hearted, it would be hard for Thatch to get really angry at Ace.

Damn. He really needed to find out what made Thatch tick.

Thatch finally finished with the merchant, having reduced the price of the (peppers?) to half. Another thing about Thatch was that if he wanted it, he got it. His sharp tongue probably caused minor trauma among the vendors he'd haggled with in the past.

Dragging Ace along, they walked back to the Moby together. Ace, attempting to be an ungrateful brat, refused to carry any of the supplies. Thatch carried the abnormally tall stack of food by himself.

After loading all the food into one of the many storage rooms on the Moby, Thatch cheerfully bumped Ace's shoulder. He snarled at Thatch.

"Aw, come on, are you still angry about the water?' Thatch questioned. "It was meant for Marco, not you. He sometimes checks on you in the mornings."

Unknowingly, Thatch had just dropped a very crucial piece of information on Ace. That meant Marco was going all "mother hen mode" on Ace, meaning he would be watched very closely by the blue phoenix in the upcoming weeks.

Think positive. You might not even stay here for weeks.

Frowning, Thatch scrutinized the kid. Was he seriously still miffed about the water? It was just supposed to be a little joke on the Pineapple head.

A lightbulb went off over Thatch's head. Maybe he would buy the kid a drink at the bar! (And get seriously drunk too.) Then he would be all happy again, maybe actually eat his food.

Oh well. The kid might think he didn't show it, but it was pretty obvious he was attached already. If something happened, Ace would probably back him up. (Yeah, right.)

Dragging the fire-brat (again? Seriously, Thatch was pretty sure Ace could walk by himself,) they journeyed in search of a bar.

"Hey, what the hell are you doing?" Ace practically screamed in Thatch's ear, coming to his senses. Why does he space out every now and then?

"Oh, we're just going to a bar. I'm gonna get you a drink!" Thatch responded.

Contrary to his expectation, the kid muttered under his breath "I don't even like booze. I also can't get drunk unless I'm wearing seastone."

"I'll buy you food."

"..." Thatch could nearly see Ace's inner turmoil.

"No," he finally answered.

"If you don't like it then why are you still coming? You aren't under any obligation to stay here. Just admit it already, you love us!" Thatch exclaimed.

"You're right," Ace responded.

"Aw, so you do love us?"

"No, I'm not under any obligation to stay here." With that happy note, Ace turned heel and made his way into Coaco Island's forest.

"..."

Damn. The kid had problems. Thatch could tell Ace wanted to be left alone for now.

Oh well, he would just drink his problems away, Thatch thought as he stared at the kid's retreating back. Then he made his way down to the bar.

"Your strongest, please," Thatch said, placing down money on the bar counter.

Ace frowned as he made his way through the forest. It was really nice of Thatch to offer to buy him a drink even though he'd been acting like a total prick. Maybe he should stop-

No. Ace could do it. He could make his family hate him.

Ace was unreasonably good at making people hate him. It was his special talent.

Finally breaking through the canopy of trees and vines, Ace stared in awe at the scenery before him. It awakened some of his (almost) forgotten memories of the cliffside at Goa Kingdom.

The cliffside where he, Sabo, and Luffy had announced proudly to the world their intentions.

The edge of Coaco Island overlooked the sparkling sea, waves dancing as azure hues danced.

Smiling fondly at the memory, he reminisced, the salty sea spray and the cry of seagulls calming him down. Reminding him what freedom truly was.

 Breathing in the smell, Ace relaxed, laying down on the ground, orange cowboy hat obscuring his face.

He deserved to be selfish. He could have this peaceful moment to himself, couldn’t he?

Just this once.

Thatch groaned, head pounding. What had happened?

He’d been drinking in a bar, and a random shady guy offered to pay for all of his drinks.

Thatch couldn’t remember anything else that happened. Shaking his head, he looked up and found that his wrists were chained and he was in some type of prison.

Well, fuck.

Then the footsteps echoed from the hallway. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Thatch stared, incredulous. The owner of the footsteps was tap dancing . Now, Thatch was not a big fan of tap dancing, after Haruta had decided to fill his room with tap dancing shoes. And sure, he’d seen many strange things on the grand line, but this was probably in the top ten.

The shady guy from last night- ( Hey, Thatch remembered now!) grinned, showing each of his tobacco stained teeth. 

“Looks like you’re awake now. We’re gonna have so much fun together.”

Thatch matched his grin. “Slave trader?”

“What gave it away?”

Raising an eyebrow, Thatch replied “You didn’t know? All slave traders have faces as ugly as yours. Your face, though, takes the cake.”

The slave trader’s face contorted angrily, turning so many different hues of red and purple Thatch had to appreciate the colors. Eventually, the trader took out his anger by reaching forward and smacking Thatch across the face with a metal whip.

“Listen, Whitebeard . You may make a price on the market, but you only need to be alive . Your condition doesn’t matter to me otherwise. My name is Gabriel and you’d best remember it.”

Thatch grinned, all teeth. “And my name is Thatch, fourth division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates. Pleasure to meet you. And don’t you worry, my family will be coming for me.”

Gabriel hummed. “Don’t remember what happened last night?”

“Nope.”

“Well, I happened to get a bit of information out of  you. You see, you talked about an interesting kid named ‘Ace,’ whom you kidnapped. According to you, he’s very depressed and probably wants to die.

“But don’t worry, Thatch. I’m sure he’ll fetch a high price on the slave market. In fact, some of my men are coming to get him right now.”

Thatch felt fear. Not for himself, but for Ace. He was still in a weakened state and Thatch wasn’t entirely sure if Ace could survive what was coming for him. Not that he would let his feelings show.

“Ace is pretty fucking strong. I wouldn’t underestimate him, if I were you.”

Why do I lie awake in my bed, nightmares all around with no end

Now my spirit gets taken, I'm losing my faith and my morals get shaken

Live again and again in my head, I can't keep going 'til they end up dead

But my spirit's been breaking, my body's been shaking, don't know if I can take it

Ace frowned, his observation haki picking up three signatures coming his way. And fast.

The signatures seemed murderous, and Ace didn’t like that. Not one bit.

Ace sighed. His peaceful moment had lasted for around… an hour?

He’d lost track of time. The sun was starting to set already.

Oh well. Time to fight those three annoyances. He stood up, stretching, cracking his knuckles in anticipation.

There. One man leapt at him, sword in hand, swinging wildly. Ace dodged his attacks easily. As the man brought his sword down on Ace’s head, Ace grabbed it and crushed the blade in the palm of his hand. No haki needed. He backhanded the man over the cliff, hearing his screams as he crashed into the water below.

One down, two to go.

The two other men stood at the edge of the clearing keeping their distance, clearly wary of Ace.

He huffed in annoyance. If they wouldn’t attack, he would. There was one with a heavy-looking backpack, he’d save that one for last.

Lunging forward with blinding speed, Ace slammed his hand into the other man’s neck, controlling his power. He couldn’t chop his head off by accident.(That had happened once.) The man slumped to the ground, unconscious. 

One left. How boring.

The last man standing whimpered.

“Alright, alright, you have five seconds to run,” Ace said, clapping his hands together.

The man abandoned his bag and ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

Ace watched the man disappear into the distance. He wasn’t actually going to go after the man, just a waste of energy.

Ace looked at the bag disinterested. A stack of white paper poked out.

The fuck is this? Paperwork?

A smile tugged on Ace’s lips, as he remembered how much paperwork poor Marco had.

He pulled out the first paper, his smiling disappearing as he read the first words.

“Slave auction house, Saboady, grove eight.”

“Slave auction house, Saboady, grove one.”

The list went on and on, listing the locations of each auction house and examples of what would be sold.

Ace looked up, a murderous glint in his eyes.

On second thought, he was going to follow that man.

His eyes promised pain, suffering, and death.

Marco frowned. It was sunset now. He’d counted all the crewmembers, and Thatch and Ace were the only ones still missing.

Thatch had probably got his ass drunk again , along with Ace. Thatch had taken Ace with him, hadn’t he?

Honestly, his brothers were so damn annoying. They couldn’t meet a deadline? They had to leave Coaco island.

“Pops, I’m going to go get Thatch and Ace,” Marco announced, walking up to Oyaji’s seat.

Whitebeard nodded in approval. “Go, my son.”

Marco turned into his Zoan form, a mythical phoenix. He spread his wings, using his heightened eyesight to search for the two.

Ace frowned once again, trailing behind the man. He was literally leading him directly to the whole den of slavers. The man, whom Ace had dubbed “dumbass no.1” stopped in front of a large building before dropping.

…Huh?

Interesting. Trapdoors. Not that it mattered anyway. All slavers were the same. They couldn’t have chosen a less inconspicuous building could they? Indeed, the building was easily the largest in Coaco island.

Using his observation haki, he tried to sense how many there were.

Among them, he sensed a familiar presence on the lowest floor. Thatch.

And he was back at Dawn Island, watching the smoldering remains of his hometown, the plumes of smoke rising into the air. He would never forget how Luffy had gotten kidnapped, branded, sold, and died, and it was all his fault his fault hisfault hisFAULT HISFAULT-

Stop, Ace. You’re not in the past, you’re in the present, and you’re going to save Thatch.

Ace then realized a tiny problem. He’d been acting like an asshole, so if he saved Thatch it would show he would care.

Do it first, figure it out later. 

Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

Ace stepped up to the entrance of the building, and he dropped.

Down, down, down.

Bracing himself for the landing, he tensed…

…And landed right in the middle of a circle of slavers.

Ace’s eyes widened, but only for a nanosecond. He grinned ferally as he launched himself at the nearest slaver, grabbing his face and slamming it into the ground.

There would be no holding back this time.

And the men around Ace charged, grabbing weapons as they rushed him.

Thatch frowned. He could hear noises upstairs (he’d deduced he was in the basement, how cliche,) and most of them were screams of pain. There was one disturbing sound above them all, and if he strained to hear it, the sound was laughter.

Manic laughter. 

Gabriel, frowned, obviously concerned about what was happening. But then he grinned.

“Your little ‘friends’ may have come to save you, but I’ve got an Ex-Vice Admiral on my side. They won’t stand a chance.”

Seriously, Thatch thought. How fucked up can the Government get?

“Who is this Ex-Vice Admiral you speak of?” Thatch asked, genuinely curious.

“Vice Admiral Dorrow.”

“Never heard of him.”

This earned Thatch a smack across the face. He was already bruised, bloodied, and shit from the times Gabriel smacked him across the face and whatever, but he’d had worse.

Marco frowned, slightly concerned. He’d flown around the whole island, and there was no sign of Ace and Thatch. Seriously, where the hell did the two run off to?

Sure, it was hard to imagine Ace socializing with the cheerful cook (he’d been acting like nothing but a prick) but Marco felt that something was up with Ace.

You could call it intuition, instinct, gut feeling, whatever. Marco didn’t care right now.

Sighing, Marco used his Observation Haki. He sensed one specific fiery presence on the outskirts of the city, and someone very dangerous was approaching fast .

But Marco was interested in Ace’s presence. It held so much anger and sadness, yet there was so much fire left.

Oh well. He’d figure out Ace’s problems later.

Marco picked up Thatch’s weakened signature and realized something was wrong.

“...Yoi.”

The dumbass had gotten kidnapped by slave traders. Guess it was time to save his sorry pompadour ass. And Ace’s too.

Ace laughed. He felt so free .

In the midst of the chaos and fighting, he laughed and laughed and laughed, pulling punches and fiery fists.

“ Higan!* ” he yelled, shooting his opponents with little fire-bullets.

The men howled as they fell, some clutching the smoking hole(s) in their chests.

But seriously, for each man that went down, at least three more came to replace them. Ace dodged as a trader swung a sword wildly at Ace’s exposed back.

He was consequently blasted back through a couple of walls.

Ace would be lying if he said he wasn’t feeling a bit drained. After all, he wasn’t exactly in top shape. There were hundreds of the traders. How many people could the building even fit?

This was absolutely ridiculous.

Eventually, Ace didn’t know when, the men finally drew back. He would have gone after them, but his hair rose at the end of his neck.

What…The…Fuck?

Turning around, Ace was met with a haki-imbued fist to the face.

He crashed through the floors, landing at the bottom (the basement?) and saw a man leap in after him.

Ace recognized the man, Vice Admiral Dorrow,*still wearing his flamethrowers on his arms.

He was the one who saved Isuka from a fire, only that he didn’t actually care about saving people. He only cared about killing pirates. In other words, he had a pretty fucked-up sense of “justice” like Akainu.

…Wait a second. Wasn’t Thatch in the basement?

Oh well. He’d have to fight Dorrow first to get to Thatch.

Ace grinned animalistically at the man before him. 

“Guess you’re not in the marines anymore? What must Isuka think of you?” Ace asked, tapping his finger on his chin mockingly.

Dorrow glared at Ace. “I’m not playing your games, Portgas. I’m here for what happened last time. I want a rematch. It wasn’t. Fair.”

Ace smirked. “Who says pirates play fair?”

Dorrow blasted some fire at Ace. Ace ran straight through it, slamming a fiery fist into Dorrow’s head.

Dorrow reeled backwards, and Ace spared a glance around the room. Cells were lined up among the walls, and Ace could clearly see the faces of some of the creatures inside the cages.

But Thatch was nowhere to be seen.

While Ace was distracted, Dorrow grabbed Ace’s neck and lifted him, Ace’s light, malnourished body. It floated off the ground. (He hadn’t eaten for what, three days?)

“Ace, Ace. This is all your fault. You’re the reason your buddy Thatch got kidnapped, the reason why I came to this island. You should feel so special that I came here just for you.”

Ace growled at Dorrow, fire raging in his eyes. “Says the man who put children in harm’s way the last time we met.”

“But the fact still remains that Thatch was kidnapped and will now be sold because. Of. You. He’ll die for you, Ace. Isn’t it wonderful?

Your very existence causes everyone you care about to die.”

The fire in Ace’s eyes flickered. Once, twice. It went out.

Then Thatch burst into the room, bloody and bruised. “Don’t listen to him, Ace!”

(Ten Minutes Earlier)

Thatch was sick and tired of waiting for his family to bust him out. He had to wait for the guy to go away though, and then escape under “mysterious circumstances.”

Lo and behold, Gabriel got up and walked in the direction of a door. “We’ll finish later, Twin-blade Thatch.”

“Aw, big fan of the Whitebeard Pirates are you? Can’t believe you remembered my epithet.”

No response. Gabriel was gone.

Thatch sighed. That had been such a good comeback, too.

He dislocated his hands, slipped out of the cuffs easily. Then he popped them back. A little sore, but he’d be fine. 

Standing up, Thatch stretched. Now to get out of here…

He eyed the bars. Kicked them. They fell down with a crash.

“Big fan of the Whitebeard Pirates, my ass. Shoulda at least known we were stronger than this,” Thatch muttered to himself.

Where the hell had he placed his hairpin? Ah, yes, his shoes. He took out the hairpin and proceeded to the doorway. Carefully picking the lock.

It didn’t budge.

Glaring at the door, Thatch muttered “ah, fuck this” under his breath.

He punched the door. It fell with a resounding crash.

Looking both ways, Thatch stepped out, hands held lazily on his head. He could hear the sounds of the fight coming from one direction. Most likely one of his brothers.

Aw, how sweet. 

As Thatch walked towards the fighting , he heard some horrible, horrible words.

“He’ll die for you, Ace. Isn’t it wonderful?

Your very existence causes everyone you care about to die.”

“Don’t listen to him, Ace!”

Fucking hell. Why did Ace come? Thatch had initially thought the brat hated him, but Ace had come to save him.

The thought warmed Thatch to the heart.

But fuck, Ace’s condition was pretty bad. He looked beaten, bruised, bloody.

The worst part of it all was the dead look in Ace’s eyes. Thatch had seen that look on many people before, one of pain, agony, sadness, anger.

“Ace, we care about you. We want you to become a part of our family.”

Thatch saw something flicker in Ace’s eyes. Encouraged, Thatch continued.

“We want you to become our brother because we all saw something in you. You're not a stain on this earth, Dorrow’s lying. You deserve to live.”

Thatch wasn’t exactly sure what he was saying. He’d only known the kid for around a week, but he’d already grown attached to the boy.

But his words had an effect. Ace shook violently. 

And the fire returned back to his eyes.

It might take a while, wanna see them smile, eyes are so kind, but their words are hostile

Turn back the dials, I'm just an outsider, they put their trust in me, I'll face the trials

You want to show me the outcome, there's tears in my sanity, 'bout to breakdown

Hidden pressure, give in error, I’m always having these nighttime terrors

Ace was drowning. There was no other word to describe it.

“Your very existence causes everyone you care about to die.”

Ace wasn’t fighting Dorrow anymore. No, he was falling down, spiraling into a deep, dark pit.

The ghosts of the past tugged on him, whispering in his ears. 

Then Sabo appeared, but it wasn’t the Sabo Ace remembered.

No, this was the Sabo with half his body melted off, smiling a grisly smile, the blood dripping down his eternally youthful face.

“You know, Dorrow was right Ace. Your existence does cause everyone you care about to die.”

“Stop it, that’s not true,” Ace muttered, but weakly.

“Hmm. Then, why weren’t you there for me, Ace?”

“I’m sorry Sabo. I- I was-”

“Oh no, it’s alright Ace. You really should have died with me though, stopped the Whitebeard Pirates from dealing with such trouble.”

Ace shook his head violently, palms pressing into his eyes. “You can’t tell me what to do. You’re just a figment of my imagination.”

“Or am I, Ace? Maybe you’re closer to death than you thought. No wait, scratch that. You’ll just come back in another loop, to eternally torture the Whitebeard Pirates. Son of a demon.”

Ace’s breath hitched. His breathing quickened.

“No- Sabo, that’s not true, Stop it.”

Sabo smiled, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Ace. You’re my brother. Come with me,” he said, offering a hand.

“I’ll take you to hell with me, so don’t worry. We’ll be together forever and ever and ever and ever. No one can separate us again.”

Ace stared, through tears, at Sabo’s hand. He slowly reached to take it. But then he stopped.

“Why does everybody…call him Pops?’’ 

Ace stared at the ground, head between his knees. The enticing smell of Thatch’s cooking wafted up to his nose.

“Because he considers us his sons,” Marco replied. “We’re just a bunch of strays here…so it makes us feel good whether he really means it or not.”

Tears dripped from Ace’s eyes.

“You keep going like you’re going, you’re not gonna last. You won’t be able to kill Pops in your condition. Either get off this ship and try again later, or stay and take the mark of Whitebeard on your back!”

Ace remembered the day he took the mark of Whitebeard, how he proudly showed it off to the crew.

He never once regretted joining.

Pops. Marco. Thatch. Izo. Haruta. Jozu. Vista. Blamenco. Rakuyo. Namur. Blenheim. Curiel. Kingdew. Atmos. Jiru. Fossa. Deuce. Luffy.

He’d do it for them. The past could be changed.

“...we…care…about…you.”

“...You…deserve…to...live.”

Ace jolted, trying to free himself from the prison he’d created in his mind.

“I’m sorry, Sabo. I’ll see you later.”

Sabo’s face fell.

Ace opened his eyes.

Marco had made it.

Finally.

A large building stood in front of him, looking like it took a long time to build. Pretty old, the foundations were quite weak.

Ace and Thatch were underground. But there were at least a hundred men coming to them.

Marco sighed, walking to the doorstep.(In human form.) He dropped down, and before he hit the floor he spread his wings, flying through the passages. He was met with the sight of hundreds of men lying unconscious, bloody and beaten, on the ground.

Marco let out a low whistle. Fire-fist really outdid himself.

Stopping to look at a fresh scorch mark on the wall, Marco thought, Well, they didn’t give him the epithet “Fire Fist” for no reason.

Marco looked down at a very human shaped hole in the floor.

Three guesses to whom the hole belonged to.

Sighing, he jumped down the holes and was met with the sight of a large man about to stab Thatch, Ace on the ground unconscious.

Chapter Text

Gabriel ran.

He honestly didn’t know what the fuck was happening back there, but whatever it was he was not going to stick around to find out. His subordinates would protect him, they were all useless anyway.

Into the forest. He dodged the vines and thorns that scratched his face. He was so focused on getting away that he didn’t notice the shadow looming over him before it was too late.

Splat . His body was crushed on the ground.

Lazily, the panther gazed down at its prey. Bored, it ambled away lazily to look for more things to terrorize.

Gabriel’s blood seeped into the ground. His corpse remained, still and unmoving.

Ace was awake, more than ever, fire begging to be let out.

Growling at Dorrow, Ace smirked.

“Jujika.”

A cross-shaped ray of fire shot at Dorrow, burning him. Dorrow released Ace, and he stumbled back clutching at the wound.

“You’ve really done it now,” Dorrow said, smiling through bloody teeth. “You’ll fetch a prettier price on the slave market, higher than this old geezer.”

He pointed at Thatch, who squawked, outraged.

Growling, Ace stumbled forward-

only for his legs to give way, resulting in his body crashing to the ground.

Fucking narcolepsy. It could cause cataplexy at times, and this was possibly the worst time for it.

Dorrow assumed Ace was too tired to fight.

“Guess you’re too weak to defeat me this time, eh Firefist? Although if we sell you, we won’t need the cook. Guess I can kill him then.”

No . Ace fought against the paralysis, struggling against the invisible bonds that chained him to the ground.

Dorrow stalked towards Thatch slowly, dagger (where had he gotten that from?) and prepared to stab him.

Thatch knew he could protect himself with fists only. If he was in his prime, he could’ve beaten Dorrow easily.

He was not in his prime.

Thatch caught a hint of blue out of the corner of his eyes.

Blue fire?

That meant that Marco was here. Grinning, Thatch exclaimed, “Oh, you fucked up, big time.”

Dorrow brought the dagger down, and Thatch prepared to block the hit with Armament.

But Ace got there first. The tip protruded from the front of his chest, and he coughed up blood.

He fell. Thatch caught him.

The War of the Best. Cannons fired, Ace’s siblings were fighting, and one by one they all fell.

Punching a marine, Ace came face- to- face with Thatch’s smiling face.

“Hey, buddy! How’re you holding up?” Thatch asked, skewering a marine who got too close.

“I’m doing just fine. I’m not weak, you know.” Ace pouted.

Thatch laughed, and Ace glared at him.

The sword came out of nowhere. A marine stabbed Thatch in the back.

And it wasn’t the marine whom Ace turned his flames of vengeance on, no, it was Teach-Kaido-Akainu-

And Ace failed to save his brother. (Again.)

Because he was too weak.

But no, he wouldn’t let it happen this time.

Ace snapped back to reality. Forced his body to move. Threw himself in front of Thatch, took the hit for him.

The world dissolved, voices fading into the background. Ace vaguely recalled blue flames behind him. He faded in and out of consciousness, a smile making his way onto his lips, his eyes shadowed by his cowboy hat.

Then he fell into darkness again and knew nothing more.

Marco growled angrily, punching a hole in the wall.

Whoops . He probably shouldn't have done that.

But, seriously, he was pretty fucking pissed.

Ace had taken the hit for Thatch, and then Thatch started blaming himself for everything.

Including the fact that Ace had now been in the infirmary for around three days now.

Right on cue, Thatch barged into the room. “Marco help me please what should I say when Ace wakes up, it’s my fault all myfault heshouldn’thavecomeformeandnowhe’shurt again -”

He talked faster and faster, rambling on and on.

Marco dragged a hand down his face. “Thatch, slow down, and no, it’s not your fault. I’m worried about him too, so why don’t we go check on him together?”

Thatch nodded. “Thank you Marco, you're the best brother ever.”

They walked towards the infirmary together.

Bay had heard of the new rookie Pops had “adopted,” but she hadn’t expected Marco carrying his body into the medbay yelling for her. She only treated the worst wounds.

She hadn’t expected Thatch to come in, panic, and have a breakdown either. Thankfully Marco got him out of the infirmary so she could operate in peace. 

But damn, she could see why Marco had asked for her. He got stabbed in the back, thankfully missing his vital organs. It would leave a pretty bad scar though.

A very tired Marco walked into the room with Thatch trailing behind him. Thatch ran up to her, screaming incomprehensible things into her ear.

“What he means is, ‘Is Ace okay?’” Marco translated.

“He’ll live,” Bay responded.

Ace’s finger twitched.

“OHMYGOODNESSHISFINGERMOVED-”

“Shut up or I’ll ban you from the medbay,” Bay said to Thatch.

“I’m sorry-”

Bay walked up to Ace, peeling his eyelid open and shining a light in it.

Ace sat up, swatting her hand away. “What the fuck was that for?” he yelled.

“Already got a sailor’s mouth,” Bay commented.

Ace ripped the IV drip out of his arm. Marco wanted to bang his head on a wall.

“Ace, you don’t just rip an IV drip out of your arm -” Bay started.

“I can and I will,” was the reply.

He started to get out of the bed, but Marco pushed him back down. “You’re staying there,” he declared with such finality that Ace backed down.

Thatch bounded up to him. “Oh my goodness Ace I am so sorry, I should have protected you better, I don’t deserve to be a Commander, I'll throw myself into the sea-”

Ace deadpanned. “Maybe I sacrificed myself so I wouldn’t have to see your faces anymore.”

Marco blanched. Ace blinked. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing. Carry on.”

Ace swung himself out of the bed and immediately Bay was all over him, yelling “You’ll tear your stitches, dumbass! Then die of blood loss.”

“You can’t kill me if I kill myself first, right?” Ace asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not sure if that was concerning, disturbing, or funny,” Thatch muttered under his breath.

“It was the truth,” Ace answered.

Oh, fuck. He was supposed to act like an asshole, wasn’t he? Ace thought.

“Well, anyways.” Ace plastered a fake smile on his face. “I’ll be going now. There’s a price for you saving my life, isn’t there?”

“Yup. Join Whitebeard,” Thatch replied.

“Can’t happen. Guess you’ll have to torture me or something, make me walk the plank. Oh! You’re going to force the Spades to join you, then throw me in the ocean.”

“Why would we throw you in the ocean when we just saved your life?” Marco asked, put off by Ace’s unhinged smile.

“Don’t know, don’t care.” He began to walk away.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Bay asked.

“To my room. Oh wait, I’m trapped here, scratch that, I mean my prison. Bye.”

He left the infirmary leaving behind three shocked, disturbed people gaping at him. If they kept forgiving him for being an asshole, which Marco, Thatch, and Whitebeard definitely would, he’d just act disturbing along with some insults. Wouldn’t take long for them to throw him off the ship then.

But fuck, he had to stop ending up in the infirmary. It was the third time this month.

Marco was concerned. He was pretty sure normal people did not make casual comments about suicide. Also, Ace never smiled. His facial expressions included scowling, glaring, sneering, and generally looking murderous all the time. Portgas D Ace. Did not smile (no matter how unhinged it was.)

Something was amiss though, it was almost like the kid knew how to make them angry and was slamming all the buttons.

He couldn’t figure this out by himself, could he?

Thatch was trying to unravel the mystery of Portgas D Ace as well. But what if they couldn't do this alone? What would happen if they went to Pops?

Nodding, Marco turned heel and grabbed Thatch’s arm, dragging him to Oyaji’s room. He knocked on the door, Thatch struggling in his grip.

“Come in,” Whitebeard said.

Marco opened the door, stepping inside. “We’re here to talk about Ace.”

“We are?” Thatch asked.

Marco hit him over the head. “What did you think?”

“...I don’t know.”

“Guararararararararara! Cheeky brats. What about Ace?”

“He’s mildly- ahem- disturbing” Thatch supplied. “For lack of better words.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s making these suicidal jokes, acting like he doesn’t care about his own life, and it’s like he’s always trying to piss us off intentionally. Like he knows us all too well and how to make us angry. If you look at him carefully, he’s hiding something. I also don’t need to mention the fact that he’s trying to kill you and also has conqueror’s haki,” Marco pointed out.

“Are you suggesting he’s a spy?” Thatch asked.

“It’s plausible.”

“Hmm… I don’t care if he’s a spy or not. Although the fact that he doesn’t seem to care about his own life is concerning. What would make an eighteen year old kid think that?

Can you watch over him carefully, make sure he doesn’t try anything harmful to himself, and please make sure he eats enough,” Whitebeard said. “I should’ve noticed this sooner.”

“Can you please find Ace and bring him here later? I want to talk to him. Alone,” he continued. Under Marco’s questioning gaze, he added “to say thank you for saving Thatch.”

Marco nodded, and he and Thatch left the room leaving Whitebeard to his own thoughts.

What happened to you, Ace?

Into my zone, this about to get graphic

Left 'em alone and they started to panic

I can not live in denial, I'm ready for my reprisal

I'm not suicidal, part of the plan, so my death is vital

Because I'll keep it up determined, I will strive for their survival

Ace was standing on a secluded spot on the Moby, looking at the sea below.

And he was very, very annoyed.

Stabbed in the back? Check.

Not allowed to fucking move because he got stabbed in the back? Check.

Not allowed to take attempts on Oyaji’s life? No, Whitebeard . Check.

And now he had two “guardian angels” circling him, namely Marco and Thatch. 

He wasn’t allowed to take attempts at his own life either. He didn’t know why.

Was it something he said? Maybe it was the suicidal jokes he made…but those were the truth. He didn’t understand why they were so concerned about it.

Oh wait, normal people don’t want to die, right?

Dammit. Oh well, too bad, too sad. He wasn’t going to end the loop.

Yet.

Oh, shoot. He’d taken the hit for Thatch and came to get him from the slavers, which kind of showed he cared for their lives.

Well, just make them hate you. Simple. Easy.

It was pretty damn painful to see his (ex)siblings glare at him with hatred.

He shifted closer to the railing and, using Observation Haki, felt Marco and Thatch bristle.

Did they think he was going to jump into the sea?

Just to spite them, what would happen  if he tried killing Whitebeard again? He would need a new, creative way to do it though. Stabbing people in the back really hadn’t done him much good.

He was too tired to think. Simple and straightforward, throw a couple knives at him. 

Time traveling was so confusing. Have a problem? Punch it. Someone bothering you? Kill them.

You couldn’t kill time travel. He hated that fact.

Walking to the kitchen, he began searching for a nice, sharp knife.

To assassinate a certain pirate.

Koala was understandably angry.

Somehow, her dumbass of a partner managed to get caught while infiltrating the marine base, because he was “distracted by a cool looking seagull.”

And he was caught by none other than Garp the Fist himself.

So now, the two were currently in the midst of rubble and unconscious marines, one in particular cracking his knuckles. 

But she was caught completely off guard when Garp growled “where the hell have you been, brat?”

“Fist of Love!”

Sabo was thrown through three walls, his pupils dilated.

“Shi-Shitty old geezer?” was all he managed to utter before passing out.

Garp was pissed off. First, his oldest grandson, Ace, decided to challenge Whitebeard in a fight, which he lost, and he then got his sorry ass kidnapped by the man himself.

Then his other grandson had the audacity to come back to life, pop into a marine base, and steal some documents before seeing him and passing out.

Garp honestly hadn’t hit him that hard… except he was in his ship’s infirmary and out like a light for a couple days now.

His partner, Koala, calmed down a bit after Garp explained he was the brat’s grandfather, but still refused to leave his side and explain why the hell they had infiltrated his marine base.

He had to admit, the dumbass had gotten stronger, although his burn scar was still unexplainable.

Garp pulled out a rice cracker and munched it thoughtfully.

His second-oldest grandson groaned and sat up. He blinked, stared at Garp. 

Garp blinked and stared back at him.

A few moments later, he pointed a gloved finger at Garp and screamed “What the hell are you doing here, shitty old jiji?!?!”

“Why the hell are you alive, Sabo?????” Garp roared back.

Sabo’s lower lip trembled. “I, uh, kinda lost my memories? Getting shot by a Celestial Dragon can do that to you.”

He was given another Fist of Love. Sabo howled in pain, clutching the egg sized lump on his head.

“How could I forget? Ace, Luffy, they’re my brothers. I have to go find them.”

“Oh no you don’t! We’re doing some training together, catch up on all the years you were ‘dead.’” Garp grinned maniacally. Sabo shivered.

Koala sat up, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. “What the- SABO, YOU’RE AWAKE!” she cried, hugging him.

“Hey, Koala, so I kind of got my memories back, because Gramps hit me with a Fist of Love.”

Garp nodded, proud of himself.

“Does that mean you’re going to quit the Revolutionary Army?” Koala asked.

“No, I love fighting for freedom. I just- I just need some time off. Find Ace and Luffy, my brothers.”

“Hold it, you’re in the Revolutionary Army?” Garp asked.

“Chief of staff.” 

Garp grinned. “Say hello to my son for me.”

“Your son?”

“Monkey D. Dragon,” Garp clarified.

“HUH?” Koala yelled.

“Oh, that was confidential. Forget I said that,” Garp replied, picking his nose.

Yeah, Sabo could really see the similarities between Garp and Luffy.

Koala looked like she wanted to pass out, but then her brow furrowed.

“Your brother, Ace, what’s his first name?”

“Uh, Portgas. Portgas D. Ace.” Sabo refused to think about how Ace hated his other surname.

Koala paled a bit and showed Sabo a newspaper. The headline read:

PORTGAS D ACE, CAPTURED BY WHITEBEARD.

Sabo gulped. He knew Ace wanted to get out of his father’s shadow, but this…

“How many days ago was this?” He asked.

“Two weeks.”

“How far away are the Whitebeard Pirates?”

“A week, at best,” Koala replied.

“Tell Dragon I’m going on a little trip.”

Koala nodded grimly, leaving the room.

Garp grinned. “Now, about that training…”

Chapter Text

One month, fifteen days, four hours.

Precisely the amount of time Ace had been on the Moby Dick. He had tried to assassinate Whitebeard forty-five times so far, once a day.

Marco and Thatch kept trying to corner him, presumably to take him to Oyaji so he could thank him for saving Thatch’s life. Like hell he was going to accept a “thank you” from the old pirate. He’d just done what needed to be done.

Ace lumbered the hallways, searching for a handy weapon that he could use.

His eyes fell on some arsenic acid. Okay, maybe not a weapon. Why the Whitebeard Pirates had this, he didn’t know, but he didn’t linger on it. Grabbing the vial, he made his way up to the main deck feeling the eyes of many pirates on him. He was just a source of entertainment for them, wasn’t he?

Well, no entertainment today. Just some poison.

He stopped in front of Whitebeard, who looked curiously at Ace. Ace opened the sake bottle that Whitebeard was about to drink from and poured the acid in. He left without a word.

Make that forty-six times. Although he knew the old man wasn’t stupid enough to drink the arsenic acid.

And he also stopped Oyaji- Whitebeard from drinking sake. He wouldn’t die of lung cancer this loop.

Think positive. Maybe he won’t die if I finally get out of their lives.

But seriously, when were they going to see he was just a burden? Leaving by himself was really starting to look like a better option by the second.

He wandered back to his room, stopping when he overheard Vista’s voice through a closed door.

“-seriously, Haruta, half of my mustache-”

“I understand how important your mustache is to you, but Pops picked him up for a reason,” Haruta replied.

“What’s his reason then? Portgas is nothing then a nuisance and a waste of space-”

“Just like you when Pops first picked you up. Besides, just because Ace burned up half of your mustache isn’t a reason why we should kick him off the ship. ”

Ace peered through a crack in the door. Vista frowned and growled, ”He’s dangerous , Haruta. That’s what I’m trying to say. Sooner or later, he’ll hurt one of our crewmembers, and you’ll regret not listening to me.”

Haruta didn’t respond.

Heart heavy, Ace sucked in a breath and walked away quietly.

He’d never hurt a crewmember intentionally. Vista was wrong . 

But maybe this was good. He could use this to get himself kicked off the ship.

Yay me, Ace thought miserably.

And then they’d be safe.

There was just one problem; he didn’t know if he could bring himself to hurt a crewmember.

But Teach was still part of the crew in this timeline. Ace could care less if he died in a ditch somewhere.

Where was Teach? Ace realized he hadn’t seen Teach at all . That was mildly alarming, to say the least. 

Lost in his thoughts, Ace almost walked into Marco. He looked up and glared at the phoenix.

“Oyaji wants to see you,” Marco said.

Ace knew that was coming sooner or later. Marco didn’t sugarcoat the fact.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Marco glared at Ace. “If you won’t go to him, I’ll bring him to you.”

Ace sighed. He really didn’t feel like arguing today.

“Fine.”

“He’s in his room. And you know where that is, you tried killing him in his sleep, so don’t pretend to get lost along the way.”

“...” Damn. Marco was right. Well, that fucking sucked.

Ace snarled at Marco, not unlike a rabid animal. “And what if I hit my head really hard and lost all my memories?” he challenged.

“Then I would call bullshit and drag you to Oyaji’s room myself.”

There was really no way out of this. Ace started walking the length to Whitebeard’s room, throwing the middle finger back at Marco, his back turned.

Marco’s eyebrow twitched.

Ace turned a corner and disappeared out of sight.

Whitebeard stared at the youth before him. Gray eyes, dark wavy hair. His features really started to remind Whitebeard of someone, a pirate who died a long time ago…

Enough of that. “I wanted to thank you for saving Thatch’s life. Join my crew.”

Ace stared at the pirate before him. He couldn’t be fucking serious, right? This was a joke.

“I just tried to poison you, and you still want me to join your crew?”

“Yes.”

Ace glowered at Pops- no, not Pops, not Pops, and replied “I hurt Vista. You sure you don’t want to punish me? You sure you don’t want to kill me, lock me up, sell me to slavers? I know you want to.” That was a fucking lie.

“Why, exactly, would I do that? Your attack was ages ago. I would have said something then, instead of now. I want to thank you for saving Thatch’s life.”

“Well, you can take that thanks and shove it right back up your ass. It’s all lies anyway.”

Whitebeard raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What do you mean, all lies?”

And a sort of dam broke inside Ace.

“I mean that everything is all lies. You don’t care about me joining your crew. You don’t care that I saved Thatch’s life, you know perfectly well he could protect himself. You put on this huge facade, cover yourself in love and family, deluding others to join you, calling them your ‘ sons’ and ‘ daughters .’” Ace grinned, unhinged. He spread his arms wide.

“And what happens when one of your precious children betrays you?” Blackbeard. “You can’t know for sure that they all love you. What happens when one of your children stab another in the back , what happens when you realize your whole family is a big, fat, fucking lie, what if you didn’t delude others, but yourself , into thinking that everyone’s happy these days, everyone’s smiling, and you think absolutely no one would dare to betray you.”

He ignored how his voice came out strangled and plowed on.

“Because love and family is a big fucking lie. Because, guess what, betrayal is a real thing, and people will betray you. Surprise, surprise. And one day, Tha- someone will be stabbed in the back by Te- another , and you will regret everything.”

I would know.

“Guess what else is a lie? Trust. You can’t trust anyone . Nowhere is safe. If that was too hard to understand, my answer is fuck no, I can’t- I will not join your crew. It’s better for everyone. And I would kill myself before I join.”

Everything is a lie .

Ace’s expression darkened, his hat shadowing his eyes, his hands at his sides. He forced his mouth into a painful, twisted smile, ignoring the burning sensation in his eyes.

He missed how Whitebeard’s expression darkened, how Whitebeard looked at Ace with sadness in his amber eyes.

“Who hurt you?” Whitebeard eventually asked.

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out. I’ll give you a hint: the whole fucking world .”

Ace blinked. Oh, fuck. I think I said a bit too much. Whitebeard got a bit more interested in me now. Well, at least I was telling the truth. Truth is always stranger than fiction.

Double fuck. Was it when I said I would kill myself before I join? Because I would...

Time to make him hate me.

“Your children will abandon each other the moment you die, and knowing you, you would sacrifice yourself for them. But then they’ll kill each other in a brawl.” It happened before.

“Why would you sacrifice yourself, knowing you would die, nobody at your side?” I’ve done it before. “What happens when your precious sons and daughters lose their leader?”

Whitebeard glared and gripped his bisento, the closest that Ace had ever seen him angry before. “I know all my children, and they will never abandon each other . They will never kill each other. And I would gladly sacrifice myself if they get to live to see another day.”

The air crackled with energy, but Ace only smiled brokenly at Whitebeard. He giggled maniacally, ignoring how Whitebeard’s eyes widened in surprise. He ignored how Whitebeard’s eyes filled with concern and horror.

“It will happen. It has happened. More times than I can count. And you wouldn’t sacrifice yourself for all of your children.”

Ace refused to think of the emblem he’d once worn on his back with pride.

He turned and left the room, leaving Whitebeard lost in a turmoil of thoughts.

But Ace muttered one last phrase under his breath, which Whitebeard barely caught.

 “And this is why I’ll never be free. I have to save them all.”

Sabo was not having a good day. 

His idiot of a grandfather decided to "train" him ("Years of 'Fists of Love' missed out on!" Garp had said) before beating him into a bloody pulp.

Then the Hero of the Navy had the brilliant idea to visit Ace along with Sabo. ("What was he thinking, joining Whitebeard? Five Fists of Love for that!")

Sabo agreed, not that he would ever say so in front of Ace or Garp. But then again, his brother was known to be hot-headed and mainly a dumbass all the time.

So here they were, sailing on Garp's ship, attempting not to get thrown overboard by the waves. And Garp put Sabo in a marine uniform along with the other marines. ("You'll blend right in!")

Sabo did not blend in. He was stronger than every marine on this ship except for shitty-ass Jiji. And he couldn't even begin on how much he ate compared to the others.

Garp's dream probably came true, seeing one of his grandsons in a marine uniform. It didn't change the fact that Sabo was a revolutionary though.

Did Sabo mention a storm? Oh yes, there was a big fucking storm that rocked the ship side to side. Lightning flashed in the distance. Even for the New World, this was crazy.

Sabo began rethinking his life decisions. Garp just laughed in the distance.

"Bwahahahahaha! Men, finish tying down those barrels over there! We can't lose those to the sea, can we?"

Sabo sighed and made his way over to the barrels, careful not to slip on the slick floor. Rain pelted down like bullets as he secured the last barrel.

A sea king surfaced next to the starboard side. Sabo's brow twitched.

"Take care of that, Sabo!" Garp called.

Fucking bastard. "Dragon Claw," Sabo muttered under his breath, his hands turning a black sheen.

He glared at the sea king. The sea king shrank back in fear.

"Listen up, I'm having a bad day, so if you value your life, scram before you become kebabs." Sabo flexed his fingers. The sea king shivered and dived away.

Maybe I should have eaten it, Sabo thought. Oh well, too late anyways.

Lightning flashed again, this time closer. A bit too close to the ship for Sabo's liking. He simply grabbed onto the rail to avoid being thrown by the waves.

The sails caught on fire.

Oh, fuck me.

Scratch that, Sabo was not just having a bad day. His day was the most fucking atrocious, diabolical monstrosity to ever exist on the four blues.

Four days to get to Ace, at best.

Feel the pain, rinse, repeat

Mental strain, rinse, repeat

Body drained, rinse, repeat

Back again, rinse, repeat

Ace was very hungry.

His arm also hurt again. Maybe he bruised a bone or some shit. Oh well.

He got up from the bed in his 'room' and snuck to one of the many storage rooms, finding some bread, dried meat, and a couple of apples.

How convenient. It was almost like someone knew that he was hungry...

At this point, Ace genuinely didn't care if the food was poisoned or not; he's made enough mistakes in this loop. After all, poison wasn't that bad of a way to go.

He grabbed the food, and putting it into a sack he found, left carrying the sack in his uninjured arm.

Behind a corner, Thatch smiled.

"So you're telling me that Ace said some disturbing stuff to you, shouted that people will betray you as if he'd experienced betrayal many times before, made a comment about killing himself yet again, smiled and laughed concerningly, and generally dissed you and refused to join your crew?"

Whitebeard nodded at Marco.

"...Yoi. How old is he anyway?"

"Around seventeen."

Marco sat on the floor, folding his hands. "What the hell would make him want to kill himself? What the hell would make a fucking seventeen year old kid speak of these things, as from personal experience?"

His Oyaji shook his head, sighing. "I don't know. But we will help Ace."

Marco had questions. He did not have answers. And he was going to get answers.

Standing up, he frowned, determined.

He just had to do paperwork first...

But Thatch could help.

Chapter Text

The holidays were nearing, which meant that Marco and Thatch would stop bothering Ace as much. Ace still kept up with his daily assassination attempts though.

Ace hated the holidays. It was always too loud and it only reminded him that his fucking birthday was nearing. The first time Ace told Luffy and Sabo about his birthday, they went all out. His two brothers even got him gifts, namely his ridiculously orange hat and the kairoseki dagger he always wore at his hip. The next year it was the atrocious belt system with the letter “A” on it.

The year after, Sabo died. Ace didn’t deal with his death well and mourned for hours at a time.

Luffy got the hint that he was unhappy. Luffy spent every moment telling Ace he was glad that he lived.

Ace began to smile again. He smiled for Luffy. But hidden behind his mask of happiness was a thick layer of pain.

If you looked carefully enough, you could see the pain in Ace’s eyes. The one thing he hadn’t mastered hiding.

Then he set out to sea, got stranded on the deserted island of Sixis. He’d thought he’d die there, he spent every hour thinking of Luffy, thinking of what he had left to live for.

"If it hadn't been for Sabo, and a handful of a little brother like you...

I wouldn't have bothered staying alive."

And he met Deuce, ate the Mera Mera No Mi, gathered his whole crew. Challenged Whitebeard, lost, and the rest was history.

History that was thousands of years old to Ace.

And Ace still hated his birthday. It only reminded him how he killed his mom when he was born. (Many, many, years ago.) He sometimes wondered, Why did Garp save me, but not my mom?

He treasured every bit of information he got about Portgas D Rouge. Her favorite flower was the hibiscus. She had twenty-two freckles on her face. 

Best of all, she protected the people she loved and would die for them, a hundred times over. Then again, Roger had the same trait. And Ace inherited the trait (and the D’s) from both sides of the family.

His birthday reminded him about how it was another year, another year that he’d failed to save his family. Some birthday present that was.

Ironically, his father’s birthday was one day before his, December thirty-first. New Year’s Eve.

Ace originally set out to sea to prove his life was worth something. Did he deserve to be born?

For a fleeting moment, he’d thought he’d found the answer to that question when he died saving Luffy at Marineford. But then he woke up again.

Birthdays were really, really , troublesome. 

Being hungry was something Ace couldn’t escape, either.

December twenty-fourth. The next day would be Christmas. Standing up, Ace began his quest to find edible food.

Out of hunger, he’d tried bleach before. That didn’t turn out so well.

There were at least eighty storage rooms in the Moby. He should be able to find at least a plate to eat that would barely satisfy his stomach.

Preferably chicken. Yeah, today was a chicken day.

Thatch both loved and hated the holidays because it meant so much work. He had to prepare a huge feast to feed all his siblings. But Thatch would gladly overwork himself if it meant each one of his siblings went to bed with a full stomach, content.

The Moby had so many different races, from fish-man to giant, not to mention the allied crews. Plus Teach, who was in a whole different category. The fact that he liked pies with a fiery passion was concerning , to say the least. 

Also, for whatever reason, Stefan, Oyaji’s dog, doesn’t like Teach. Thatch would admit that some of Teach’s jokes were a little… off. But every one of their brothers and sisters had a unique trait.

It was much worse for Marco though. The holidays meant a “damn-fucking-lot” of paperwork, as Marco had so nicely described.

With vigor. And lots of angry hand motions.

Maybe Thatch would lay off the pranks for a bit.

As he stirred the batter for a cake, he wondered what holiday their newest recruit, Ace, celebrated. What food did he like? He could get Haruta to get information out of him. Haruta’s tactics were effective .

They should probably learn Ace’s birthday, too. Get him to open up a bit more.

Maybe they would bring in Deuce, their wildcard who was on the Moby 2. (And still resisting joining the Whitebeard Pirates.) At least he was getting along nicely with the doctors and nurses.

Tomorrow, all the allied crews and the separate Moby’s would come together for one huge party. Some would stay until the New Year.

Perhaps Agakami would visit this year and invite Marco to join his crew again. Thatch snickered at the thought of Marco’s expression.

He wondered if he could get Marco drunk enough to say yes. Probably not.

Anyways, on with the eggnog. He turned his attention to finding the ingredients for the drink.

Finally.

Fucking finally.

Marco finished all his paperwork and sat back with a sigh, running a hand over his face.

He would take this to Oyaji and be done with it. Getting up, he gathered the unholy amount of paperwork in his arms and walked to his room, letting himself in. He put the paperwork in a safe spot (if the paperwork got ruined-) and went to go find Thatch. Maybe he could get some ingredients for the eggnog to help him. 

Marco reached a storage room and went inside, frowning as he saw tilted barrels and misplaced items.

Who was in here?

Maybe it was Ace. After all, he had been refusing Thatch’s food and one couldn’t live off of fish.

He didn’t mind and knew Thatch wouldn’t either. After all, the brat was going to join the crew whether he wanted to or not.

Speaking of Ace, he had yet to glean answers off of him. 

He’d look for Ace and ask him some questions.

What has he been hiding?

But he wouldn’t push Ace. Some things were meant to stay secrets.

Steel to my trembling lips
How did the night ever get like this?
One shot and the whiskey goes down, down, down
Bottom of the bottle hits
Waking up my mind as I throw a fit
The breaking is taking me down, down, down

Ace breathed a sigh of relief as Marco walked out of the room. He had found an uncooked chicken (thankfully) and cooked it with his fire powers.

Then he devoured it and incinerated the bones. His stomach was satisfied.

For now, anyway.

He should go back to his room. He slipped into the ventilation system and made his way to his room, dropping down from the ceiling.

Knock, knock. Someone rapped on the door.

Fuck.

“Who’s there?” Ace growled out (act like an asshole, get them to throw you out, make them hate you).

“Me, yoi. I want to ask you something. Can I come in?”

Shit . Marco. The mother hen of the crew. What had he done this time?

“...You’re the one who kidnapped me, yet you’re asking if you can come into a room on your own ship? ”

“Good point. I guess I won’t ask next time.”

If there is a next time, Ace thought.

The door opened. Marco came in.

“I’ll get straight to the point. What’s keeping you from joining this crew?”

Honesty is the best policy. “Don’t ask stupid questions. You’ll only get stupid answers. But since you want to know, I guess everything. The universe.”

Marco merely blinked. “Sure. Care to elaborate?”

“No. Why would I tell my kidnappers anything?” Ace emphasized the word, tilting his chin defiantly. He refused to meet Marco’s eyes. He kept his face neutral, unreadable.

“Thatch wants to know what holiday you celebrate.”

“Simple.” Ace smirked. “I don’t celebrate.”

Marco huffed. “What… happened to, ah, make you like this ?”

Ace stiffened slightly. His impeccable expression faltered but he slammed it back on. Reapplied it.

“I have no idea what you mean. Do you care to elaborate?” His eyes met Marco’s. Stormy gray met cerulean.

Marco’s eye twitched as he folded his hands over one another. Ace could tell he was getting under Marco’s skin.

“Fine. Don’t answer, you don’t need to. You’ll have plenty of time to once you join this crew. When’s your birthday?”

Ace’s breath hitched. He looked away. But he replied anyway. “January first.” 

Barely above a whisper.

Ace cursed himself six ways to Sunday. Stupid mouth, revealing that information. 

Marco appeared to not have heard him. Or did he?

“The doctors want to see you, yoi. Come with me.”

Just like that, his expression was indecipherable again. “Do I have a choice?”

Marco didn’t respond. Ace brushed past him roughly and walked towards the medical ward. He felt a burning sensation in his eyes.

“When’s your birthday?”

Stupid Marco. Stupid mouth.

Marco frowned as he watched the teen walk away. Apparently birthdays were a touchy subject for him. 

He had to go to the medbay too, as he was told to help with Ace’s checkup.

The checkup was really just simple questions and bloodwork. He noticed that Ace was a bit softer now though.

What has he been hiding?

Marco pushed further thoughts out of his mind and followed Ace, arriving in time to see some nurses take blood from him. Ace’s expression was downright murderous and Marco assumed that the nurses had threatened him in order to extract blood.

Nurses could be scary sometimes.

“All done,” the nurse, Patty, said.

She then grabbed a sheet of paper and began firing questions, all the while scribbling something down.

“Name?”

“Ace.”

Patty’s eye twitched. “ Full name.”

“You should have been more specific. Portgas D Ace.”

“Date of birth?”

“Prefer not to say.”

"Any medical issues?"

"Narcolepsy, but attacks only occur when I know I'm somewhere safe. Which isn't anywhere here." Ace smirked mirthlessly.

“Where were you born?”

“Do you mean born or raised?” 

“Where were you born and raised.”

“Is this an interrogation, doctor?”

“No.”

“Then why do you need to know?”

Patty sighed. She was going to have trouble with Ace.

“Just tell her, yoi.” Marco stared at Ace.

The man in question huffed. “Fine. Born: South Blue, Baterilla, raised: East Blue, Dawn Island. And you’re going to ask my blood type, so it’s F. No living relatives, by blood, anyway.”

Marco raised an eyebrow. By blood?

Patty’s brow furrowed. “Baterilla… Isn’t that-” she looked up.

Ace was long gone, predictably back to the safety of his small room.

Sabo looked up, staring at the night sky. In just three hours, it would be Christmas. Judging by the wind speed, they would get to the Moby Dick by December twenty eighth.

And four days afterwards it would be Ace’s birthday.

Sabo remembered how Ace hated his birthday and refused to celebrate it. He refused to acknowledge it, and when Sabo finally asked him why he responded:

“My existence is a stain. I killed my mother the day I was born. She carried me in her womb for twenty months to keep me safe, then died afterwards. Shitty jiji saved me instead of her. Don’t know why.”

“Your mother sounded like a wonderful person, Ace.”

Ace’s eyes grew distant. “Yeah, she was.”

They didn’t talk afterwards.

Sabo shook himself out of his memories and sat down hard on the deck, near the railing. 

“Pirates!” The cry shook Sabo and his eyes widened as a figure, clad in a marine coat, dropped from the watchtower.

The body thudded with a sickening splat. A speck of blood flew onto Sabo's cheek. It dripped on the floor.

Plip, plop. Plip, plop.

Sabo jumped to his feet as the alarms started ringing. The pirate ship bore the symbol of Whitebeard.

That couldn’t be right, no Whitebeard would be insane enough to attack Garp’s ship…

Plip, plop. Plip, plop.

“ZEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

The laugh rang out in the night as the sound of pirates and marines fighting filled the air.

The blood kept dripping.

And it didn't stop.

“Twelve o’ clock! Happy holidays!!!!”

Thatch laughed as the Moby lit up in bright lights. He suddenly heard a den-den ringing.

“Hm? Who is it?”

“Hey, Commander Thatch! It’s me, Teach! Or did you forget already? Listen, we might be running a bit late, we’ll probably get there by the twenty eighth. ZEHAHAHAHAHAHA! Tell your newest recruit I said hi!”

Teach hung up. Thatch shook his head and went off to tell Marco.

Chapter Text

Poison.

The fucking bastard had used poison. 

Sabo lay in the brig of the Garp’s ship, paralyzed and in pain.

He had gotten careless in the midst of battle. A tiny scratch on his forearm from a blade, dripping with poison.

Sabo had only managed to get to safety through sheer willpower. He had kept his legs moving no matter how much they burned. And then he collapsed here, blacked out, and then woke up again…here.

He didn’t know what happened to Garp, (Shitty old Jiji,) but he knew that no Whitebeard pirate would be able to take down the man who was able to go toe-to-toe with Roger in his prime. 

Right on cue, the door banged open and an old, gravelly voice muttered “Those damn pirates better not have taken any rice crackers or I swear to the- ”

Garp looked down at Sabo. Sabo barely mustered the energy to look up.

“Hey, Gramps.”

“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! I knew you weren’t down an’ out! No grandson of mine would die that easily!!!!!”

Sabo felt a twinge of annoyance that was quickly replaced by a warm feeling in his chest. Grandson .

The only problem was if Ace would call Sabo his brother. The ugly feeling of self-doubt rose in his chest, but it was quickly repelled by pain coursing through his veins.

“I, uh, kind of got poisoned-”

Sabo’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. He blacked out once again.

“Oh, fuck.” Garp shook Sabo and saw the poisoned cut on his forearm. It looked infected. And the wound was nasty .

A day later, Sabo awoke in the Marine vessel’s infirmary, an IV drip attached to his arm. Garp was laying, star-fish position, on a chair snoring away. Bags under his eyes told Sabo that Garp probably hadn’t slept.

Sabo stretched, neck popping as he looked over at a newspaper nearby. He checked the date: December twenty-seventh. So he’d slept through Christmas; that was nice.

Garp groaned and sat up, his eyes falling on Sabo’s form.

“FIST OF LOVE!”

“OW!!!! THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?!?!?!?!?!”

“ADDRESS ME AS GRANDPA, YOU SHITTY BRAT!!!!!!!!”

“NEVER!!!!!!!”

That only earned Sabo two more “Fists of Love” (“One for Christmas!”) his gramps had said.

Sabo smiled wryly. “Careful. If you keep hitting me, I just might lose my memories again.”

To his credit, Garp stopped although he pouted childishly. Then his expression turned dark and he gestured at the newspaper from the News Coo.

Sabo blinked. “What?”

“The headline. But I don’t believe it. He’d never. Even if he knew his parentage.”

Cold dread creeped inside Sabo’s insides, twisting and churning. He opened the newspaper and read:

“PORTGAS D. ACE, MURDERED BY WHITEBEARD.”

Sabo shook his head violently. “No. That’s impossible.”

“We’re going to visit Whitebeard anyway; we were attacked by one of his lackeys. They seemed to be searching for something , but whatever it is, they never got it. Nothing’s missing.”

“I don’t think Whitebeard would do this.” Sabo scoffed slightly. “He probably wouldn’t be stupid enough to attack you . Didn’t you say once that you. Whitebeard, and Roger were drinking buddies?”

Garp nodded, eyes in a distant land. “Yeah, a long time ago..”

Sabo let his grandpa (he would never say it aloud) reminisce about his past. 

But his mind wandered off to its own dark fantasy, one where Ace looked at him with cold eyes and said, “You’re no brother of mine.” One where Ace didn’t know him, no recognition in his eyes.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but it’s words that will hurt me.

Who was he kidding? Ace would probably sock him in the noggin. And then proceed to punch the shit out of him. Ace was always the violent one.

“Hey, brat.”

Sabo looked up at Garp.

“The sails were damaged in the attack, it’ll cause a day’s delay.” 

Sabo nodded mutely, and felt something warm tugging at the recesses of his mind. He fell back into the feeling, and for the third time, knew no more.

Out like a light.

Ace avoided all human contact during Christmas. Marco and Thatch both attempted to communicate with him, but Ace shut them out. He locked himself away in his room, walked in circles. Felt the growl in his stomach but let himself starve.

And throughout the day, he thought about Teach, the sick bastard. Ace wanted to punch his fucking face in, watch him scream in pain as he slowly burned to death by his hand. With the power of the Mera Mera No Mi.

Ace took out his violence and frustration by attacking Oyaji- ( dammit, Whitebeard, Whitebeard, he’s not your father and he never will be. )

A day passed, and that’s when Ace began to notice the darkness.

The shadows.

It creeped in his room slowly, curling and dancing. It wasn’t long before the shadows filled his room, and Ace folded into himself. A husk of the person he once was, before the beginning of this loop.

And he’d be damned, doing this, making others hate him really took a fucking toll.

Ace faded in and out of consciousness, his vision clouding over. Only daring to venture out of his room to keep attacking Whitebeard. Every time he returned to this hell-hole, he only thought of death and Teach and guilt and pain . 

Tears ran down his cheeks. Ace vaguely remembered telling Luffy that real men didn’t cry. Only the weak did.

Well, he was fucking weak. Pathetic.

Another day passed; the day after would be his birthday. 

Hiding his pain inside was so much harder than he’d thought. But he’d keep going for his family even if it killed him.

Mentally. Not physically.

He couldn’t die anyway.

After the shadows came the cracks. Cracks everywhere. The world was splintering, the ground beneath Ace was spinning. 

Too much.

The darkness seeped in. Curled around Ace, enveloping him.

Too much.

A faint memory, one where Garp told Ace “If you have a choice between the hot and the cold, the warmth or the frozen, always choose the hot, or warmth. The cold and the frozen seeps in and wraps itself around you and never lets you go.”

Too much.

Ace laughed bitterly. He was fucking cursed.

The cracks widened, and Ace felt himself falling through, ghosts of the past grabbing at his tattered clothing.

Too much, too much, TOO MUCH-

A flash of silver. White hot pain that quickly dissipated. A spray of scarlet.

Then fire licked over the wound. Like it was never there.

But it was kairoseki.

And the blood dripped on the floor.

Plip. Plop.

My heart's beating faster

I know what I'm after

I've been standing here my whole life

Everything I've seen twice

Thatch knocked on Ace’s door, concerned. The younger hadn’t come out, save for attacking Pops. Which meant he hadn’t eaten anything.

No response.

What the hell?

“Ace, I’m coming in.”

“No.” Thatch heard Ace’s voice, oddly choked like he’d been crying.

“What? You haven’t eaten all day, come on, let me in.”

“That’s what he said. Then I died.” 

Thatch blinked. Was the kid on drugs? But where the hell would he get drugs from?

“Sure. By any chance, are you high?”

“No. I’m low. Falling, falling, falling, falling . And it won’t stop. Make it STOP!”

Thatch sighed and sat down on the other side of the door, worried and disturbed inside, feelings churning in his stomach. He didn't dare to open the door, respecting Ace’s privacy.

“How can I help? I’m here and I can. Tell me.”

“You said that and then you died. Then Marco died. Pops died. They all died. Again and again and again .” The end of the sentence was slightly hysterical.

“...” The kid had called Whitebeard Pops . Even though he had vehemently refused to join the crew and tried to take Oyaji’s head. Then Ace had said that they all died.

If the kid was on drugs, then obviously it would be the drugs talking. Or maybe he was drunk, and it was the alcohol. But if it wasn’t… well Ace’s mental health had been already called into question. Maybe he could see the future like that mermaid… what was her name? Madam Sharley? The notion was ridiculous, and Thatch pushed the idea into the back of his mind.

“Ace, calm down. We’re here and alive, not dead.”

No response. It was like Ace had fallen asleep. “I’m leaving some food outside your door, please eat it.”

He got up and walked away, but not before he heard a faint voice.

“Thank you.”

Thatch’s mind whirred at ten million miles a minute.

Now it's time I realized

It's spinning back around now

On this road I'm crawling

Save me cause I'm falling

Now I can't seem to breathe right

A small figure walked quietly, whistling a merry tune, glowing as it circled the storage room.

Happy at finding no damage, it slipped through the floor, going up, up, up.

It felt so loved and it was content .

Then scarlet blood splattered its raincoat and boots, its metallic scent making its way up to its nose. Frowning, the figure went to find the cause. It really hoped no one was hurt; it had a small wooden hammer just in case something needed to be fixed.

There. A tall, strong male, sitting on the floor, knife in his hand, blood seeping from a cut.

Its mouth formed a small curve downward. It was pretty sure that the male had hurt himself, why was the question. But one thing was for sure; it didn’t like when any of its occupants were unhappy.

Up, up, up. It formed into the shape of a young child, hood up, shadowing its face from view.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

The male looked up, carmine beads bouncing on his chest. “Fucking hell. I’m hallucinating again. Must’ve hallucinated Thatch too.”

It put its hands on its hips, frowning. “You’re hurt and sad. You would only hurt yourself if something’s wrong. So, what’s wrong?”

A smirk tugged on the teen’s lips. “It can’t hurt to talk to a hallucination, right? Well, I hurt myself to escape. Escape everything.” He gestured vaguely at the room around them. “The cracks are opening, the shadows are coming in, and they’ll swallow me up.” He narrowed his eyes at it. “And probably you too. So be careful.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“You’re hard to please. But I s’pose because I can’t stop what’s happening. They keep dying and it’s all my fault. So I tried something else, but it only hurts , but I’ve got to keep going for them.” The male gazed into the distance, muttering under his breath, “I’ve come too far to stop now.”

He looked up at it, a smile adorning his face, his heart lifting. “Thanks, hallucination. You…helped. Somehow.”

The figure smiled before melting back into the wood, taking the blood with it.

Chapter Text

Whitebeard laughed happily at the report Thatch gave him.

“GUARARARARARARARA!! Ace called me ‘Pops’! I’m so happy! This calls for a party!”

Thatch blinked, then dropped the other shoe. “...He also seemed to be going mentally insane, and I’m pretty sure he wasn’t on drugs or alcohol. Ace claimed we were all dead.”

“Ah. That is…concerning.” The Yonko’s brow furrowed. “Why would he think we’re dead? We are alive and breathing right now. Unless we’re ghosts or something. Besides, isn’t he the one trying to kill me?”

Thatch flushed. “I thought he could see the future… A future where we’re all dead, maybe? ”

“It’s plausible. That wouldn’t be one of the strangest things we’ve seen. Remember that one marine from Sabaody?”

Thatch shuddered. “You didn’t need to remind me. That was horrifying .”

“I’ll assign you and Marco to keep watch over Ace. Make sure he’s okay, maybe Bay too. If he has some sort of mental disorder, I wouldn’t be the best person for the job.”

Thatch nodded and turned to leave. “I’ll tell Marco and Bay.”

“One more thing. I picked up Ace not just because he’s a stray. His first thought was to protect his crew from the strongest man in the world. But when he fought me, there was something dark hidden in his eyes. And that darkness is even more present now. So, please take care of Ace, I’ll try my best too.”

“We will, Oyaji.”

Sabo swallowed nervously, pacing the deck of Garp’s ship, dark scenarios returning to his mind on what Ace would say to him.

Would he even want a brother like me anymore? I abandoned them all, lost my memory, I was so fucking useless when they needed me.

Sabo really wished he could turn back time, redo his life, never eat at that one ramen shop that fateful day. He could still remember his father’s face ( No, that piece of filth didn’t have the right to be his father, ) as he reached out to Sabo, calling him back.

He wished he never set out to sail the day the Celestial Dragons came. His ship was shot down by a cannonball and it went up in flames. It was truly a miracle he was alive, the only prize gained was the burn scar covering half of his face.

That was why he grew his hair long, to cover the hateful burn.

Four hours to the Moby Dick. Four Hours until he saw Ace again…

What would he say?

More importantly, what would Ace say?

I'm tired, I'm worn

My heart is heavy

From the work it takes to keep on breathing

I've made mistakes, I've let my hope fail

Thatch sighed, walking to Ace’s room, holding a plate of steaming food, a well balanced meal. (He wasn’t the head chef of the Whitebeard Pirates for nothing.) Opening the door, Thatch saw Ace curled in a little ball on the bed, possibly sleeping. It was endearing, really, if it weren’t for the fact that Ace was possibly… mentally unstable.

But then he shifted under the covers, and Thatch knew he was awake.

“Ace, you haven’t eaten for many days. Even if you were fishing, you can’t just live off of fish; the balance would be terrible. You need vegetables, potatoes, meat besides fish… etcetera.” Time to pull the guilt card. “Your crew is worried about you. If you won’t eat food that I make, then fine, but your whole crew is onboard. And ready to shove food down your throat at a moment's notice. So Ace, please eat .”

Ace groaned and sat up, shooting a disgruntled look at Thatch. “Fine, but only because of my crew. I’m still not joining.”

Thatch set the steaming plate of food down on the floor next to Ace. For the first time, he noticed how impossibly small the room was and wondered if Ace suffered from claustrophobia.

Thatch waited for Ace to eat, but he didn’t even touch the food. Ace simply stared at Thatch, as if willing him to leave Ace alone.

“…Fine, I’ll leave. Promise to eat the food.” Thatch flashed Ace what he hoped was a winning smile.

“Okay. Please. Kindly. Get out.” (Hey, Ace used his manners! Makino would be so proud of him.)

Thatch mock-saluted Ace and backed out of the room, hands above his head, closing the door behind him. 

…

Ace stared at the food Thatch brought him and slowly brought a bite to his mouth. He had promised after all. He refused to think of the many other promises he’d broken. (The food was soup and bread. Nice and simple.) As he ate, he wondered if his crew was really on board, or if Thatch had just been bullshitting into making him eat.

Then again, Thatch wasn’t the type to bullshit.

Grudgingly, Ace admitted that Thatch was right; it was not good for him to go without eating for this long. Especially since he was a D and could outeat Luffy and Garp any day. Hell, he could probably outeat Big Mom, of all people. In any case, this soup was not enough to satisfy his hunger.

But he’d be damned , the food was good . Thatch was a good cook. (He would not admit that aloud, maybe in a different timeline? In this one he was supposed to act like an asshole.)

Unless he was hallucinating the food too. He had hallucinated that weird raincoat-wearing…thing.

Nah, probably not. He pinched himself. It hurt.

Nope, not hallucinating.

Ace sighed as he stared at the dregs of the soup. He was still hungry. Maybe he would steal food again. It was almost his birthday, after all. In just a couple of hours.

He looked down at his thin, skinny frame.

He could sleep it off. It was fine. He’d gotten most of his madness out the day before.

Putting the empty food bowl outside his door, Ace pulled the covers over him and blew out the lamps.

Sleep claimed him as his own and for the first time in many days, Ace actually slept.

And had (another) nightmare.

From that timeline.

My soul feels crushed

By the weight of this world

And I know that you can give me rest

So I cry out with all that I have left

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

How long until an admiral would come?

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

Time was running out.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

The marines were coming.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

They tried to take Luffy. Ace killed them all, shielding Luffy’s eyes from the carnage and the burning slave auction house behind them. “It’s okay, Luffy. I’m here, and I won’t let them take you.”

Luffy looked up, eyes shining and a smile so bright. He’d seen so much, yet was still innocent and naive. Ace swore that if someone took that away from him, they would die a miserable and painful death.

The two were almost at the docks, where Ace’s coated ship, Striker, waited, waiting to take them back to Pops’ shop.

The two were almost to freedom.

Ace ran, carrying Luffy, legs burning with the strain along with the heavy scent of smoke in the air. But Luffy was alive and safe, and that was all that mattered. Ace would gladly die for him.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

Striker burned up, its engine exploding before Ace’s eyes, pieces of shrapnel flying in all directions. Ace gaped at the sight, his body automatically shielding Luffy from the impending danger. A piece of shrapnel embedded itself into Ace’s tat, right in the “C” in his tattoo. Another piece embedded itself above Ace’s right eye.

Who?

Ace looked wildly around the grove, searching for the perpetrator.

Magma.

That could only mean one admiral; Akainu. As soon as the realization popped into Ace’s mind, he knew that Luffy was no longer safe. The two had to get out of there before they died.

“Pirate scum.” Akainu walked forward, menacingly, towering easily over Ace and Luffy. “And a slave.” 

Ace put Luffy behind him and stood, fists clenched.

He couldn’t run. Not out of fear; but because Luffy was behind him.

And he would protect the ones that he loved the most.

Akainu smiled. It was not a nice one. “Do you know what happens when people get drunk?”

Ace snarled. “Get on with it.”

Akainu ignored Ace and continued. “When people get drunk, they say things, usually their deepest secrets. And people get drunk sometimes to forget. Maybe because of guilt and overwhelming loss.”

“I’ll give you an example, pirate. Your grandfather. Sad and depressed that his grandson got kidnapped and is a slave. People will usually drink under those circumstances, and in his case he felt overwhelming guilt that he wasn’t there when this slave” Akainu jerked his thumb at Luffy, “needed him most. So he drank. Sometimes drunkards would say things, maybe talk about the pirate king, the incarnation of the devil himself.”

Ace’s blood ran cold.

“Sometimes drunkards would talk about the pirate king’s son.”

Akainu’s fist smoldered in magma, the heat forming wisps of steam that blurred Ace’s vision.

“Portgas D. Ace. Or should I say “Gol D. Ace”?

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

And Ace bolted awake in cold sweat, barely muffling a scream.

Ace immediately walked out of the room, looking at the night sky above, trying to clear his thoughts from the memory-turned-nightmare. He walked onto a secluded part of the deck, breathing in the sea spray.

The moon was bright.

Already he could hear the sounds of a party starting to celebrate the new year. That meant he’d slept around six hours; wonderful. Someone…Jozu, maybe? was counting down the minutes to the start of a new beginning. Music was playing as rowdy pirates stamped their feet, cheering while swinging tankards of booze. Among them, Ace spotted Thatch with his ridiculous pompadour and Marco with his pineapple haircut, talking to the commanders and Whitebeard. Three other ships, nearly carbon copies of the Moby Dick, were anchored next to the original. Then there was one ship that recently pulled up; it had Whitebeard’s mark on the sails so Ace supposed it was just a team who restored order to one of Oya- Whitebeard’s many territories. Since the Spade Pirates were situated among the four ships, Ace supposed that Thatch hadn’t been lying; the Spades really were here.

Ace had no intention of finding his former crew; he hadn’t seen them for many, many loops. He could hardly remember what he originally was like. If he met them too soon then he couldn’t bullshit his way around them. The Spades had spent years with him; after all they could tell immediately if something was off.

Then again, if he met a family member… well, they could tell something was off sooner than the Spades. Ace knew from experience from past loops; somehow Luffy, Garp, and even Dadan knew something was wrong. The only difference was the way that they dealt with it.

And Garp did not deal with it very well. He dealt with it rather violently.

In other words, Ace didn’t know how to pretend around the people who really knew him.

Turning his attention back to the sea, Ace paled as he saw a marine ship. It had a dog as the figurehead.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Ace was really starting to question what star he was born under.

Let me see redemption win

Let me know the struggle ends

That You can mend a heart that's frail and torn

I want to know a song can rise

From the ashes of a broken life

And all that's dead inside can be reborn

'Cause I'm worn

“Permission to come aboard?”

Garp’s voice boomed over the sea. Ace winced, covering his ears.

“Guararararara! Permission to come aboard!”

Edward Newgate stared curiously as Garp jumped onboard. “Come to join the festivities?” he asked.

Garp stared dangerously at Whitebeard, killing intent seeping in the air. All music stopped as pirates and marines alike stared at the two old men. “First, I want to know something. Did you kill Portgas D. Ace?”

“No. Why would you think that?” Whitebeard frowned.

The dangerous aura vanished as Garp’s expression cleared. A smile split his face.

“I have someone Ace would be interested in meeting.” Garp returned back to his marine ship.

“What do you mean?”

“Ace! Get out here and say hello to your grandfather!”

You could hear a pin drop as pirates and marines tried to process the information.

“EH?!?!?!”

Ace sighed. There really was no getting out of this. Pirates cleared a path for him as he walked toward Garp. Ace stopped in front of him, crossing his arms over his chest. “The fuck do you want?” That sounded like something past him would say. 

In any case, Garp seemed convinced he was fine. “CALL ME GRANDPA, BRAT!”

“FIST OF LOVE!”

“OW! THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR, SHITTY GEEZER?!?!?!”

…Yeah, that was really something he would have said if he wasn’t looping. Ace momentarily forgot himself and for a brief second reverted back to his original self, bickering with Garp.

“In any case, I have someone you would be very interested in meeting. I was surprised too.” Garp nodded sagely, ignoring his smoking fist. He then proceeded to walk into the depths of his ship.

Thatch checked the clock and revived the festivities. “Five!”

Ace frowned, curious, walking forward to the marine ship.

“Four!”

Garp came back out, dragging someone behind him. “Hey, hold it , I’m not ready yet-” The mysterious figure struggled in Garp’s grip like a cornered alley cat.

“Three!”

Ace felt all eyes on him, even as the pirates counted down the seconds to the new year. He recognized that person…

“Two!”

The top hat, the grin, even the clothes , it was all the same.

But he couldn’t be alive- he’d died years ago.

But it was all the same, all the same-

Then he spoke, and Ace knew it was him-

“ONE!”

“Hey, Ace.” Sabo smiled bleakly. “Happy birthday.”

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Ace punched him.

“WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN-

“SABO?!?!?!”

And the fireworks went off.

Chapter Text

Ace’s mind spun as he stared at the all too familiar blonde, fire threatening to break free from under his skin, to destroy and consume everything in its path.

For the first time in years, Ace lost control of his devil fruit. Flames licked at the edges of his shoulders, but he managed to tone it down to a low simmer.

Then he punched his supposedly dead brother again, knocking him on the floor. It infuriated Ace that Sabo didn’t fight back. Ace wasn’t satisfied with punching the shit out of him, he felt the overwhelming urge to destroy something.

Something besides his brother.

Gray eyes narrowing dangerously, Ace snarled, “You better have a good reason for this, a damn good explanation . How the fucking hell are you alive? You didn’t-” ( You didn’t recognize me when I confronted you long ago. ) “You were dead .” Ace stated it as a simple fact. Something he had come to the bitter conclusion of.

Sabo smiled weakly, but Ace knew him well enough to see that he was wobbling between sadness, regret, and joy. Fuck. I haven’t seen him in thousands of loops, yet I still know him this well. In that case, what does Sabo see in me?

“You’ve gotten stronger, Ace. You see, I do have a…reasonable explanation. Did you know that if something hits your head hard enough, you can lose your memories?”

The world stilled around Ace, the background noise fading into meaningless chatter. He only focused on his brother. “You’re saying…”

“Yep. Maybe it was a piece of falling debris, maybe it was the cannonball, or maybe it was actually the trauma from being shot down by a Celestial Dragon.” Sabo was no longer smiling. “I’m sorry, Ace. Sorry that I wasn’t there for you and Luffy. When you needed me, I wasn’t...” He couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence as his shoulders trembled slightly, tears threatening to fall. Before Ace knew what he was doing he walked forward and hugged his brother, hot tears falling from his eyes.

Ace hugged Sabo tight, refusing to let him go again. “It’s my fault. We never looked…I mean, we just assumed you were dead from what Dogra told us.”

“I almost thought you were dead too.” Sabo pulled away, wiping tears from his eyes, a watery chuckle escaping from his throat. “What the hell were you thinking, challenging Whitebeard like that?”

Just like that, the two were kids again. “Hey! It’s not my fault that he decided to kidnap me! Besides, you know that I’m stronger than to be killed by, oh, the strongest man in the world.” Ace pouted petulantly, evaporating the rest of his tears using the power of the Mera Mera No Mi. Steam steadily rose from his eyes in thin wisps. “Also he wants to adopt me, make me one of his sons.” Ace frowned. “But I can’t- I mean I won’t join his crew.”

Sabo raised an eyebrow at Ace’s slip up, but didn’t comment on it. “How about we talk somewhere more…private.” He gestured at nearby pirates who were listening, albeit subtly, to their conversation. Ace nodded, finding Thatch and Marco among the crowd of spectators. 

“Yeah, I know a place, follow me.” Ace led Sabo through a maze of drunk pirates and spilled booze, past Garp who was immersed in a deep conversation with Whitebeard.

Once the two were safely in Ace’s (borrowed) room, Sabo flopped down on the bed, Ace sitting on the floor. After a moment of silence Sabo let out a low whistle.

“Wow. Just…wow.” He smiled. “It’s so nice to just… be here with you, y’know? I can’t really describe it but like…it’s comforting.”

Ace grinned at Sabo. “I’m so glad you’re alive. But does Luffy know?”

Sabo sighed, grimacing slightly. “About that…I was planning on surprising him when he sets out to sail at seventeen. Like we all promised.” Then he brightened. “I heard you ate the Mera Mera No Mi! It really suits your whole hothead personality.”

“WHY YOU-”

“I only speak the truth. You are a hothead. And strong. Which probably led to Whitebeard capturing you, because maybe he likes people like that.”

“So you’re saying that it’s my fault that I got kidnapped by these bastards? I’m still trying to kill him every day, you know. I’ve resorted to any means possible.”

“…Of course you would do that. What else would I expect?” Sabo stopped, as if thoroughly considering his next words. “Let me ask you one question though. Would you want to stay with them? I mean, your dad… well, I guess fathers were always a touchy subject for the ASL. So would you want Whitebeard as a father? We could take you away easily.”

Ace looked at the floor. He couldn’t lie; Sabo would catch on easily. So he opted for the second option; deflect the topic. Faking confusion, he asked, “We?”

Sabo smiled dryly. “Not Gramps, if that’s what you’re thinking, although he’d jump at the chance to get you on his ship and make you a marine. After all, the only reason why I’m here is because the shitty old geezer forced me into a marine uniform. Obviously, I changed my clothes.” He gestured at his noble-like outfit.

“I still see you have the stupid tissue.”

A pause. “It’s a cravat , Ace. And by ‘we,’ I mean me and some… revolutionaries.”

Another pause. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, I’m chief of staff in the Revolutionary Army.” 

“EH?!?!?!? I mean, well, you always hated nobles so…”

Nodding, Sabo replied, “The marine’s justice system is fucked. So I took the promotion.”

“Never thought you were one for cursing.”

“Bitch, please . I have a pretty fucking impressive vocabulary. Use it right, my enemies will start bleeding in their ears. ”

“Okay, okay. Jeez.”

A mischievous glint crept into Sabo’s eyes. 

“Whatever you’re thinking, it cannot be good,” Ace said, looking at Sabo, concerned.

“You were always the suicidal one, so you can’t be talking.” 

I still am, Ace thought, but he chose to keep his thoughts to himself.

“Do you want to spar?” Sabo stared at Ace excitedly.

“And wreck the ship of the strongest man in the world? Yep.” Ace grinned, pulling Sabo to his feet.

The dark thoughts and the sadness could hide away for now. Right now, Ace wanted to spend time with his brother.

A brother he hadn’t seen in years.

I know I need

To lift my eyes up

But I'm too weak

Life just won't let up

And I know that You can give me rest

So I cry out with all that I have left

“BWAHAHAHAHA! I CAN’T BELIEVE ACEY DID THAT!”

A very drunk Garp laughed, Newgate chuckling along with him.

A few of Garp’s subordinates looked at each other, confused. Garp the Fist was a renowned member of the Marines, famous for capturing The King of The Pirates amongst many other accomplishments. 

Now that very same Garp was laughing with the Strongest Man in the World like they were best friends, trading stories of a certain logia. In addition, Garp apparently had two grandsons, one of which was “Fire Fist” Ace, a notorious pirate well-known for, well, his fire fist.

Funnily enough, Marco happened to be thinking about Ace as well. And the mysterious teenager dressed like a noble with a nasty burn scar on half of his face. The interaction between the two was… interesting , to say the least. Ace had punched the blonde, hugged him, then talked to him about something. Marco had never been the best at lip reading, after all. Pirates celebrating the new year didn’t help. 

Taking a sip of alcohol, he glanced at Thatch, who was less subtle in hiding his curiosity between Ace and the other man, as he kept glancing at the direction in which the two had left.

“Spit it out already.” Marco bored holes into Thatch’s pompadour. “Do I even want to know what you’re thinking?”

“No, you don’t,” Thatch promised. “You do not .”

“...The concerning part is that I can actually believe that.”

“Turkey.” Thatch pouted.

A large crash shook the Moby, the floor shaking as the sea rumbled.

“THE FUCK WAS THAT?!?!?!?!?” Thatch gaped at the deck, the floor no longer vibrating.

Marco had a very strange feeling that he knew who the culprit was.

“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! ACE AND SABO ARE PROBABLY SPARRING!!!!” Garp bellowed this fact across the length of the Moby as members winced, covering their ears.

Sabo. So that’s what the other teen’s name was.

Sighing in resignation, Marco responded, “Let’s find out.” Taking the lead, he walked down a passage leading to the lower deck, nearly scared of the absolute chaos he knew he would find.

The other commanders followed.

A boom shook the Moby. Again.

(A few minutes earlier)

Ace led Sabo to one of the many training rooms that he knew the Moby had. A variety of weapons were hung on the walls, some that Ace had used to try to kill Po-

“ Fuuuuuckkkkkk. ” He had to stop thinking of him as his dad.

Sabo looked at Ace curiously. “Something wrong?”

“No, no, nothing. Just had a thought.” His back was turned away from Sabo, so he couldn’t tell if Ace was lying or not. Sabo was always better at lying anyway.

Stepping into the ring, the two brothers circled each other as they set the rules.

“First rule: No devil fruit.” Sabo looked at Ace. “Seeing as you’re the only one with a devil fruit here, obviously that applies to you only.”

“Then no weapons, just regular bo-staffs. No seastone laced in them.” Ace looked at Sabo specifically.

Sabo mockingly put a hand over his heart. “As if I would stoop that low! By the way, Haki is allowed. How am I supposed to hit a Logia without Haki anyways?”

Ace internally agreed with Sabo. “Deal. Let’s spar.”

The two grabbed weapons from a nearby rack and began counting down.

“Three-”

“Two-”

“One-”

“GO!”

Launching himself at Sabo, Ace swung his bo-staff, coated in haki, down. Although he had lived for more than a thousand years, his uncanny ability to use a bo-staff lethally had never gotten rusty.

Sabo blocked the attack with his own staff and swung his leg at the fire-user. Ace quickly jumped back, avoiding the kick with practiced ease. Twirling the bo-staff, Sabo charged at Ace again, feinting to the right and sliding on the floor which caused him to come up behind Ace.

Ace was an experienced pirate, and although Sabo had never used this tactic when the two had sparred years ago Ace still spun around, blocking the hit with his bo-staff.

Sabo leapt back and Ace jumped, doing some sort of complicated twist in the air. His right arm gained momentum and he managed to clock Sabo in the jaw.

Sabo flew backwards, breaking the wall as he flew into a second one. Whoops .

BOOM! The floor shook as splinters of wood rained down from the ceiling.

“Dammit, Ace! You didn’t have to punch that hard!” Sabo got up from the floor, ignoring the cracks in the second wall. 

“Sorry.”

Sabo launched himself at Ace, swinging the bo staff at Ace’s head as he formed his hand into some weird shape, coated with haki.

“Dragon Claw!”

Ace’s eyes widened as the pipe slammed into his side, the floor beneath giving way.

The two fell down onto the deck underneath.

“Ah, fuck .” Ace sat up and jumped to his feet. “The hell did you do , Sabo?”

“In my defense, you did half of it.”

The ceiling was destroyed, walls obliterated. Splinters of wood littered the floor as dust particles floated down gently like snow.

Ace heard fast footsteps coming from the left. He and Sabo both looked up guiltily at the corridor, where Marco and Thatch, followed by other commanders, appeared.

A period of uncomfortable silence settled over the group.

“…That explains the noise.” Thatch chuckled nervously.

Marco ran a hand over his face. “What the fuck did you guys do? You know what, scratch that.” He called for Blamenco, the shipwright, who stepped through the crowd.

“That’s a good question Marco. In all my years, this damage , how you two-”

Blamenco gave up and went to get spare wood to repair the massive holes in the Moby Dick.

“By the way, who the fuck are you?” Haruta pointed accusingly at Sabo.

 “Ah!” It seemed as if a lightbulb went off in Sabo’s head. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Outlook D. Sabo, although I prefer just Sabo.” He bowed at ninety degrees.

“Okay… and what exactly is your business with our dear brother?” Thatch looked pointedly at Ace, heroically ignoring the venomous “ I’m not your brother! ” Ace spat at them.

“Well, you see, Ace is my brother.” Sabo grinned.

The commanders’ jaws dropped. “EHH?????”

And my prayers are wearing thin

I'm worn even before the day begins

I'm worn, I've lost my will to fight

I'm worn so heaven so come and flood my eyes

“So, let me get this straight.” Thatch scribbled notes about Sabo.

Everyone was back up on deck, trying to figure out who Sabo was and where he came from.

“Your family tree is fucked up, seeing as you have Portgas D Ace as your adopted brother and you have the fucking Hero of the Navy as your grandfather. You came on your grandfather’s marine ship in order to get here, disguising yourself as a marine for the entire time, and then fought someone from our crew while you were on the ship?”

“Yep.” Sabo ignored Ace’s shouts of “ Don’t tell them that much information, I’m trying to kill their captain! ”

Marco frowned, leaning on the rail overlooking the sea. “But the only people sent away from the Moby recently were Teach and others from the second division. They said that they would arrive around New Year’s.”

“WHAT?” Ace gaped at Marco like he’d grown two heads.

“Yeah…why? Do you have a problem with him?”

Ace shut up and stalked off quickly, walking around unconscious pirates who couldn’t hold their booze.

Sabo decided it was the perfect time to drop another bombshell on the two commanders. “I forgot to mention, I’m also Chief of Staff in the Revolutionary Army.”

Thatch dropped his head on his arms. “I am not drunk enough for this shit.”

Marco patted his back sympathetically. “Happy New Year, Thatch. Happy New Year.”

Chapter Text

The sun was on the horizon, brilliant rays of gold bleeding into blue. Seagulls cried in the air as they delivered newspapers, getting tasty snacks (if they were lucky) and berries for the papers that they delivered.

Sabo and Ace stood together by the railing, Sabo sipping tea (Ace wondered where the hell he’d produced that from, out of thin air, he supposed) watching the waves crash rhythmically against the Moby Dick. Flecks of sea foam flew in the air, painting a beautiful scene as the sun rose.

Drunk pirates and marines alike were sprawled all around the deck of the ship, limbs bent at strange angles as spilled booze stained the wooden planks. The only sober ones from the mix were a very irate Marco and Whitebeard, the captain himself. Marco himself was nowhere on the deck, as he was in the Crow’s Nest keeping watch in case any fools decided to challenge the Strongest Man in The World while the majority of his crew was passed out on the ground. Whitebeard… well he had disappeared somewhere, probably forced by doctors and nurses back to his room because he drank way too much.

Ace was also fairly certain that Garp wasn’t drunk; the old man had probably just fallen asleep.

Garp’s booze tolerance was just plain unfair .

A seagull landed on the railing of the ship, large eyes blinking up hopefully at Sabo and Ace. Sighing, Ace walked to a passed-out marine and dug through his pockets, finding a few berries. He put it inside the seagull’s pouch, taking out the daily newspaper.

Sabo watched Ace, amused as he continued sipping his tea. “Anything interesting?”

“Nah. Just some shit about some pirate stirring up trouble in one of Whitebeard’s territories.” At Sabo’s poorly hidden grin, Ace hastily added, “Not me- Stop looking at me like that!” He bumped his brother’s shoulder playfully.

Frowning, Ace read more in the paragraph, which said that Marshall D. Teach of the second division had been the one to take care of the situation.

Feeling sick to his stomach, Ace handed the paper to Sabo ( without ripping it, what an accomplishment) and directed his gaze at the far horizon.

Sabo broke the unusually calm silence. “Mind telling me what your problem with Teach is?”

Ace tensed, just slightly, but replied, “he’s a Whitebeard Pirate. I’m trying to kill Whitebeard.”

Sabo sighed. “Bullshit. I’ve known you for years, Ace. I can tell when you’re trying not to hate someone and when you really, truly, hate someone or something.” Sabo paused. “Like Luffy. You kept telling me that he was a dumbass, yet he wormed his scrawny ass into your heart.”

Ah. There it was; a brother’s sixth-sense. It was scarily accurate. Ace put his head in his hands, dark locks falling over his face, shadowing it so Sabo couldn’t read his expression as he considered his response.

A brilliant idea popped into his mind. Why not be as vague as humanly possible? Ace lifted up his face, waving around his hand airily. “I just get this… really, really , weird vibe from him, you know? Like how Luffy can tell if a person is good or bad or not?”

Sabo nodded, encouraging Ace to continue.

“Well, that’s just like me with Teach. I can tell that something bad is gonna happen with him.”

“Well, like Dragon says, ‘Always trust your gut.’”

Ace yawned and stretched, bones popping. A devious grin stretched on his face. “Do you know Dragon’s first name?”

Sabo’s brow furrowed. “Uh, isn’t it like ‘Monkey D. Dragon’ or something- 

Oh, shit . Ace, you cannot be fucking with me right now. You’re saying that Luffy is…?”

The raven-haired responded by cackling madly, bounding away out of his brother’s reach. Sabo set his tea down and gave chase, the two D’s running, not unlike headless chickens, around the ship.

The sun had now fully risen and a few members of Whitebeard’s crew started to stir.

As Ace rounded a bend, determined not to let Sabo catch him, his stomach growled, demanding to be fed. All of a sudden, he felt weak and lightheaded as he collapsed to the floor. A gnawing pain chewed at his stomach, making him feel sick and nauseous.

Sabo’s eyes widened as he caught up to Ace. “Ace! What the hell- this isn’t a narcolepsy attack-”

“St’mach hurts,” Ace mumbled through clenched teeth, curled up into a ball.

Sabo pried Ace’s hands off his stomach, unbuttoning Ace’s shirt. He ignored (although winced) at the hiss of pain that escaped from his brother.

The blonde slowly paled. “Ace, when was the last time you ate something?” By now, the pain was getting worse by the second, Ace blinking slower and slower.

Sabo stared at Ace’s chest, where he could count the number of ribs on his body.

Panicking, Sabo said louder, “Ace, look at me . When was the last time you ate something ?”

Sluggishly, Ace responded uncertainly, “I dunno… maybe a co’ple weeks ago…?”

Sabo cursed under his breath. “Ace, you’re a D . You eat far more than the average person- do they even feed you? Dammit! Have you been eating proper meals??!?!?!” He rushed off, footsteps pounding on the wood of the Moby Dick, presumably searching for a doctor.

That didn’t register in Ace’s mind as he tried to form a coherent defense that Thatch did try to feed him, he’d just refused the food, it was his body anyway, he could do whatever he wanted to with it! Sabo shouldn’t care!

…Right?

Right?!?!?

His mind slowed down and blackness took him, swallowing him up as his eyes fluttered shut.

I was left to my own devices

Many days fell away with nothing to show

And the walls kept tumbling down in the city that we love

Grey clouds roll over the hills bringing darkness from above

Sabo’s mind spun. how the fuck didn’t he notice this? The two were sparring just hours before.

Who was a doctor on Whitebeard’s damn crew? Were they all passed out? The only sober ones were Gramps, Whitebeard, possibly Thatch, and Marco…

Marco the fucking phoenix. He could help Ace, right? After all, he was a doctor.

Marco was in the crow’s nest…Which one? There were four on the Moby Dick, for heaven’s sake! Who the hell needed that many?

He did not have time for this shit, his brother was in pain .

The part of his brain that still operated (thanks to the intense training by the Revolutionaries) told him that there was this helpful little tool called Observation Haki. Sabo used it and found a presence in the third nest from the right. He quickly scaled the netting, choosing to ignore the fact that he was speaking to the First Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, oh how Koala would murder him.

He was the Chief of Staff in the Revolutionary Army, hopefully Dragon wouldn’t murder him….

“Get your sorry ass down right now! Ace is gonna fucking die!!!” Sabo shouted hysterically at the poor Commander on the receiving end. Marco was half awake with a tankard of booze next to him.

Sabo did not come all this way to watch his brother die from starvation- STARVATION, for the love of- his brother was too strong to die from something like starva-

“Calm down.” Marco stood up and walked over to the edge of the railing, towards Sabo as he rubbed his eyes. “The hell do you mean, and I quote, ‘Ace is gonna-” ahem, “die?”

At this point, Sabo was rather annoyed. And when he was annoyed, Koala had said that things didn’t work out the normal way; on the contrary, violently . To say the least. This characteristic of his was shown as he had the brilliant idea to throw Marco (roughly, he might add) off the Crow’s Nest as he jumped down after him, breaking more floorboards in the process. Thankfully, Marco turned into his phoenix form right before he hit the ground, soaring into the sky with some sort of irritated bird call. Whitebeard would have murdered him if Marco had really died from the fall. Sabo genuinely would have appreciated the amazing sight of Marco’s phoenix form, but-

ACE, DAMMIT!!!!

“The FUCK?!?!?!?!” Marco’s eye twitched, he was pissed beyond pissed.

Like a flaming turkey , the unhinged part of Sabo’s brain thought.

He ran towards Ace limp body, shaking him as an enraged Marco approached the two D brothers.

Marco opened his mouth to yell the shit out of his…brother-in-law, was it? Then again, Ace hadn’t really agreed to join the crew…yet, anyway. Oh well, the Whitebeard Pirates weren’t going to accept a “no” for an answer. 

Then he saw Ace’s current state and all his anger dissipated as he immediately understood why Sabo had said that Ace was going to die.

The kid was fucking malnourished. He was paper thin, skin hanging off his bones. He had a colorful choice of words to describe Ace’s body, but the main one was not fucking good . If the kid had been found a week later, he probably would have already been dead (or close to it, anyway).

Then there were the cuts and bruises that Ace had earned tussling with Pops every single day. Since he didn’t eat, the nutrients he needed that would help him heal faster and fight infection just wasn’t there to support him. Marco could already see the early signs of infection on one particular nasty wound.

How had Ace hidden this from them? No wonder Ace was cranky all the time, barely emerging from the depths of his room besides his daily assassination attempt. He just didn’t have the energy to.

Then there was just something screaming wrong with his left elbow, there was a serious bruise on it that looked like it had been there for a while. (Marco suspected that he’d bruised his bone.) Ace would probably need an elbow brace for that, but why didn’t he say something? That should have hurt like hell.

Ace had been deliberately starving himself, getting himself hurt and doing nothing about it, like he didn’t value his own life.

Marco registered Sabo yelling at him to hurry the fuck up and to treat Ace already. He understood, he would be worried as well if one of his brothers were hurt like this.

But Ace is our brother now, no matter how much he kicks and struggles and refuses. We will help him with his (mental issues) and not let him go no matter how many floors he destroys.

Marco exhaled, spreading his blue flames over Ace’s deathly pale body to stabilize him as he picked him up, (bridal style, he had to be careful with patients, the last time he’d slung someone over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes-) and brought him to the medical ward.

His flames wouldn’t burn Ace; they would never hurt a sibling.

His flames were meant to heal, not to destroy.

Sabo followed him, the blonde running his gloved fingers through his hair anxiously.

But if you close your eyes

Does it almost feel like nothing changed at all?

And if you close your eyes

Does it almost feel like you've been here before?

How am I gonna be an optimist about this?

Ace woke up, a sense of deja vû flooding his mind as the smell of-

No. No, he did not reset, he had come this far, he’d even found out Sabo was alive .

He blinked blearily as he looked over to his right, spotting his blonde brother snoozing, head resting on his hands as he snored softly.

Then there was a cup of water, when was the last time he drank something?

When was the last time he ate something?

Okay, so maybe, maybe starving himself wasn’t the best way to make a statement to the clingy Whitebeard pirates, but-

He was thirsty as fuck . His hands shook as he took the cup and brought it to his dry, parched lips, cursing quietly as he spilled some on his bare chest.

Hadn’t he been wearing a shirt…?

Sabo was awake in an instant, stabilizing Ace’s trembling hands, as to prevent any more spills.

This Sabo looked angry and concerned and like he wanted to strangle the living fuck out of Ace for some unexpIainable reason.

After Ace had drunk his fill, Sabo put the cup down and exhaled.

“Ace. WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING STARVING YOURSELF LIKE THAT?!?!?!?! YOU-” Sabo pointed a gloved finger at Ace’s chest “-COULD HAVE FUCKING DIED! I DID NOT COME HERE TO WATCH MY BROTHER DIE ON ME!!”

Lowering his voice an octave, Sabo glared at Ace. “Listen, I know you never had an ounce of self worth as a kid because you were his son, but that doesn’t give you the right to STARVE YOURSELF UNTIL THE BRINK OF DEATH! IF IT WEREN’T FOR MARCO, YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN-”

Sabo cut off his rant, running his hand over his face. Then he continued, slightly calmer, although an aura of pure, unadulterated menace enveloped him. “Do you even know the extent of your injuries? Do you know what not eating enough does to your body? You’re a fucking D, Ace! You eat way more than the normal person, so even if you ate one measly meal , yes, Thatch told me, that wouldn’t even do anything aside from holding you over for, what, an HOUR?!?!?! Then there’s the matter of what you drank . Not drinking shit is unhealthy, even you knew that! Hell, even LUFFY knew that, and he was the stupidest one of all! Now I think you’re the stupid one here!” He sounded borderline hysterical .

Ace coughed, his ribs aching as he did so. “Fine, I’ll admit that starving myself probably wasn’t my best idea…?”

Sabo smacked Ace over the head. “And, what ELSE?”

Ace pouted. “And I won’t do it again…”

Sabo crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow at the fire logia.

“I promise I won’t do it again…” Not in this loop, anyway, Ace thought.

Sabo then hissed, “You have yet to explain why the fuck there is a scar on your back.”

Ace gulped nervously. “Uh, so you see…”

Thankfully, he was saved by Marco entering the room, looking almost as pissed off as Sabo. He was followed by Thatch who was carrying a clipboard with him, ready to take notes about…something.

Ace wished he could fall back asleep. He was not at all prepared to deal with this shit; sure he could understand why Sabo was angry at him but Marco and Thatch? That was a different story. He’d acted like nothing but an asshole towards them, so why should they care?

Thatch plopped himself straight down on a chair and began a rant, one that wasn’t as explosive as Sabo’s (thankfully) but one that told Ace he fucked up big-time.

The pompadour haired-man started with “You have five seconds to explain why the hell you didn’t say anything when you were fucking starving . As the head chef of this ship, it’s my responsibility to make sure everyone gets fed. I am not going to stand for this shit .”

Thatch cursing was a huge red flag. He never cursed unless he was seriously, and Ace meant seriously , mad.

Ace fiddled with the white blanket on the bed. “You see, I technically didn’t join this crew yet…?” He knew full well Thatch would not take his half-assed answer but he still had to try, right?

His reply only seemed to further enrage Thatch. “No, you weren’t supposed to answer - I didn’t want to hear - You know what, forget I asked. I’m trying to say that just because you didn’t join the crew, no , you are a part of this crew, you are our brother , and brothers are supposed to take care of each other. This means that we failed to take care of the youngest . Marco and I are your older brothers, whether you accepted it or not, and we failed to notice the signs of a starving boy . A starving boy that we were around for weeks. Weeks, Ace!”

…Damn, Thatch was doing a really good job of making Ace feel ashamed of himself even though he was trying his hardest to act like a prickly dick.

Thatch then tapped his pencil on the clipboard. “Now tell me your allergies, how much you eat, what you don’t like eating, your favorite food, everything .”

Ace opened his mouth to protest, but Sabo, sensing this, smacked Ace on the back of his head and said, “If you don’t tell him everything, I will, because I know it all . I lived with you for the first couple of years of your life.”

Ace gave his best I’ll-kill-you-later death glare at Sabo but complied. “Fine, I like meat. No allergies, and I hate drinking bleach.”

Thatch choked. “This is a serious matter , Ace. And why the fuck would you drink bleach -”

Sabo cut Thatch off. “Trust me, we drank bleach before. Tasted like shit.”

Marco gaped at the two D brothers.

Ace huffed. “I hate alcohol. All alcohol. It sucks.”

Thatch nodded, writing away. “How much do you eat?”

Ace shifted a bit. Oh, he was not going to tell them-

Sabo answered, “He ate at least a whole crocodile as a kid, but I’m pretty sure he eats around three or four crocodiles now which is equivalent to around twenty three plates.”

Thatch dropped his pencil. “ Pardon ?”

Ace hissed, “Why the fuck would you tell them that, Sabo? I mean, you’re accurate, but why ?”

Sabo grinned, ignoring (and taking slight pleasure) in how Thatch was choking on his pit. “Food is vital , Ace. It trumps all. By the way, twenty three plates is for one meal, not counting snacks and shit.”

There was a faint mutter of “ He eats more than Teach ,” coming from Thatch, and immediately Ace was on guard again.

Marco quickly stepped in, pushing Thatch out of the chair and sitting down in his place. “Sorry about that, he can be a little…overly emotional. But I have to say, in his place, you eat TWENTY THREE PLATES and you haven’t eaten for-” Marco groaned. “Whatever. Everything Thatch said is indeed true, and we’re your family now whether you like it or not.”

Ace turned to Sabo for help because if he were a part of their family (WHICH HE WASN’T, he roared internally) then this was complete mutiny . Two against one. Unfair!

Sabo was merely nodding along to Marco’s words, having the nerve to pat Ace on the shoulder. 

Scratch that; THREE against ONE!!!

Marco continued. “I am your temporary doctor, since Bay drank too much, so here’s what I have to say. We ran tests on you while you were asleep and you’re badly injured. Malnourished, you need more nutrients, please drink at least twelve- no, eighteen cups of water a day. You also severely bruised a bone and you’ll need an elbow brace for that; you can go choose a color, I don’t give a damn. A cut you got from fighting Pops is infected; we treated it but we’ll have to see it every night to make sure the infection doesn’t spread. That’s all, unless you want me to go more into detail about the state of your injuries. By the way, the wound you got from being stabbed by that marine is mostly healed, we’ll take out the stitches soon. Any questions?”

Ace gaped at Marco for a split second, but then replied, “How long was I out?”

Marco shrugged. “Three, four, hours. You should have been out for a day at least, but you woke up early.”

Ace frowned, setting his jaw in a firm line. Izo appeared at the doorway, bringing food into the room…Ace was surprised that Izo was sober.

“I heard someone yelling something about twenty three plates of food, so I brought it for Ace.”

Said person looked over at Sabo. “Does everyone know about my condition?”

Sabo replied “Only the Commanders and Whitebeard. I didn’t tell Gramps because he’ll kill you for starving yourself. He’s really proud of you fighting Whitebeard though…” he trailed off at Ace’s stormy expression that was quickly replaced by a mask of indifference.

“Ace, are you okay?” Sabo frowned. Something was wrong with his brother.

“No, everything’s fine,” Ace answered a bit too quickly.

…Yeah, no, Sabo did not believe him.

Ace picked up a spoon and began eating the food way too fast. Sabo forced him to slow down because Ace would throw up if he continued at his pace.

Whitebeard stared at the report that Marco had given him. It included the fact that their newest recruit, Ace, was still refusing to join the crew and in fact starved himself to make a point to them.

He considered telling Garp the information about his grandson but decided against it. If Ace wanted to tell him, he would tell him.

It also said in the report that Ace eats…twenty three plates…in one meal….

There had been only one person that Whitebeard remembered who could eat that much, if not more. That same man could go toe-to-toe with him before his execution…

Ah, the good old days. Whitebeard picked up his sake bottle to take a drink from it, but one of his nurses quickly swiped it away, scolding him about his health and whatnot.

Garp was laughing, again.

He had a drink with Eddie and of course Sengoku had yelled the shit out of him over a den-den, but he got to see his grandsons! Seriously, he only told Sengoku that he was on a friend’s ship and was seeing his grandson Ace who he wasn’t going to catch even though he was a pirate. His excuse would definitely work even though one of his subordinates warned him that it wasn’t an excuse…

Maybe he should go visit Luffy and train him to become a fine Marine.

He’d already seen Sabo in a Marine uniform…too bad he didn’t get the chance to put Ace in one, too.

But he had to leave Eddie’s ship, because duty called (unfortunately). Oh well, he’d find Ace and Sabo first and say goodbye, give them a parting gift of a “fist of love.”

Whistling merrily, he found Ace and Sabo in the medbay for some strange reason, but he didn’t dwell too much on it. Ace was getting chewed out by Sabo and the Phoenix-brat, the bread-haired man passed out on the floor foaming at the mouth.

He ignored the last two and walked straight up to Ace and Sabo. “I’m going back.” Marco watched the scene unfold in interest.

Ace and Sabo both looked up at him, blinking owlishly. “‘Kay, bye,” Sabo said, grinning.

“FIST OF LOVE! IS THAT ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY TO YOUR DEAR OLD GRANDPA?!”

“GAH!”

“AT LEAST LOOK LIKE YOU DON’T WANT ME TO GO! I’M YOUR GRANDPA AND YOU HAVEN’T SEEN ME IN AGES!”

Ace looked down at the bed, glad he hadn’t gotten hit and Garp didn’t notice anything wrong with him.

Sabo was really a good distraction…but then Sabo would notice something wrong (he always did). Oh, he was fucked. Sabo was staying . Not that he wanted Sabo to leave, but still….

“And what do you have to say, brat?!” Garp glowered down at Ace, fist steaming.

Ace shifted nervously in his bed. He then got up and hugged the old man, tears threatening to fall- why were his stupid eyes burning?!  

Oh, maybe it was because he hadn’t seen his grandpa…in many loops…

Garp was taken aback at the show of affection because Ace never hugged anyone. Except for Sabo earlier, but that was an exception.

Bye, Gramps, Ace thought to himself.

The moment was ruined by Thatch choosing to wake up that instant, rubbing his eyes. “What did I miss?”

Ace broke free from the hug as Marco smacked Thatch over the head, hissing at him “You have no tact , dumbass.”

Garp gave Marco a long, searching look. “Tell Eddie that it’s okay to adopt my grandson.”

Ace gaped at Garp. “SHITTY OLD JIJI! tHEY KIDNAPPED ME! kIdNaPpEd!!!!!”

“FIST OF LOVE!!!!!”

“DAMMIT!”

But as Garp sailed away in his ship, he couldn’t just help feel as if something was wrong . 

First it was Ace; he was never affectionate or clingy.

Then there were the Whitebeard Pirates who attacked. No one was dumb enough in the New World to pretend to be Whitebeard Pirates, so it must have been someone from Eddie’s crew.

But he also knew that Eddie would not send his sons and daughters to attack him, he wasn’t dumb enough to betray their sense of pirate-marine friendship.

So maybe there was a traitor on the crew, but he knew that Eddie would not forgive anyone who betrayed his precious children. 

Was it really a good idea to leave Ace in the hands of the Whitebeard Pirates? Sabo was with him and would know if something was amiss, after all he’d been trained by Dragon himself.

Something was changing, for the better or worse he didn’t know.

Chapter Text

Ever since Ace had starved himself, Sabo had kept a close watch on him to make sure he ate right. 

Sure, Ace protested that his eating was a way of him being submissive to the Whitebeard Pirates, and then they would think that he was beginning to think of joining.

To which Sabo said eating was a basic necessity, and if you didn’t eat you died .

Honestly, Sabo didn’t understand his hotheaded brother. He wasn’t an idiot; he noticed something was off with Ace no matter how hard he tried to hide it. And it was pissing him off. They were brothers, couldn’t Ace trust him?

A nasty voice whispered in his head, You were gone for years, leaving Ace and Luffy all alone. What if something happened while you were gallivanting off with the Revolutionaries?

Sabo chose to ignore it. He was talented at ignoring shit.

It was around two in the morning, the day after Garp left. Sabo was sitting alone in one of the crow’s nests, the cool air tussling his golden locks. Ace had offered his room to Sabo, claiming that he could “sleep in a storage room” because “he didn’t need a room from the shitty-ass Whitebeard Pirates” but Sabo had declined. He had yet to even exchange a word with the captain and get permission to stay on his ship.

Sabo had entirely supported the Whitebeard Pirates’ plan to integrate Ace into the crew, but he knew from personal experience that it wouldn’t be easy to gain Ace’s trust. After all, the first time they met at Dawn, Ace had attempted to stab him in the chest.

He was simply a neutral spectator in Whitebeard’s attempt to get Ace to join the crew.

He was simply a neutral spectator in Ace’s attempts to take Whitebeard’s life.

A bystander. But hadn’t he always been one?

Sabo shivered as the wind blew harder, shrieking insistently for what, he didn’t know. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself.

Hearing footsteps behind him, Sabo turned and came face to face with Thatch, the fourth commander of the Whitebeard Pirates and head chef of the ship.

Thatch scratched his head and smiled. “I brought a blanket. Thought you might be cold.”

“Thanks.”

Thatch sat himself down next to Sabo, the blanket now draped over his shoulders. After a pregnant pause, he asked, “So, why aren’t you pissed at us for kidnapping your brother? You seem…totally fine with it. You even said thanks and didn’t try to kill any of us- yet.”

Sabo smiled, settling next to Thatch. “To put it bluntly, I think Ace should join your crew. It’s his choice to make though, so I won’t push him.”

“Huh. And…why do you think that Ace should join the crew?” Thatch leaned back, looking at the numerous stars in the sky.

“Ace always had…many issues.” At Thatch’s sidelong glance, he added, “About what, it’s not my place to say. But you can help heal him, I can just feel it. Call it a brother’s intuition.”

Thatch hummed thoughtfully. “Honestly, I think you would be the ideal person to help Ace, more than any of us.”

Sabo scoffed. “You can’t be serious. I was gone for years. It feels like I barely know him anymore, and he is hiding something. Trying to distance himself from the people who care about him. Hell, I haven’t seen him that emotional in years. Ace never hugs people; twice in a day means that something is seriously fucked up.”

Thatch barked a laugh. “I guess he’s a tsundere then.”

“You could say that.” Taking on a serious face, Sabo added “If any of you hurt him though, I will come after you and find you, and you will die a painful, miserable death.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

The two sat together for a little longer, Sabo enjoying the presence of a man he’d met barely a day ago. Eventually, somewhere around three Thatch left, having to attend to some Commander duties leaving Sabo to drown in his own thoughts.

Sabo knew he could trust Whitebeard, Marco, and Thatch based on his observations and intel he’d learned from the Revolutionaries. In fact, Whitebeard was one of the few pirates Dragon had deemed “halfway decent” along with Agakami.

However, something still bothered him (besides Ace’s strange behavior). Why had Whitebeard Pirates attacked Garp The Fist ’s ship in the middle of nowhere? Something didn’t add up; Sabo knew that the old man and Whitebeard were friends, so Whitebeard wouldn’t order a fucking sneak attack on Garp.

Which meant there was a possible traitor on Whitebeard’s crew. If there was, they were playing a dangerous game; quite literally gambling with their life . Based on past reports he’d read, Whitebeard did not deal with traitors well, especially people who dared to attack his precious sons and daughters.

Speaking of sons and daughters, the whole “father” thing had always been a touchy subject for Ace, considering the fact that his dad was Gol. D. fucking Roger . Maybe that’s why he didn’t want to join the crew. Why hadn’t he realized sooner? Damn, he was a dumbass.

Sabo made up his mind to speak to Ace about the crew; it would be hard though because he wasn’t exactly the most...friendly person when it came to the matter of parents.

Sighing, he got up, shrugging off the blanket Thatch had brought him. He’d return it in the morning. Jumping down from the crow’s nest, he followed the route he’d memorized that led to Ace’s room.

He only paused for a second before opening the door to find Ace lying awake in his bed, glassy eyes staring at the ceiling. He didn't seem to register Sabo’s presence.

“Ace.”

No response.

“Ace.”

Silence. 

“Ace!”

Sabo found himself pinned on the ground in an instant, a fiery fist inches away from burning his face, a knee in his gut.

But what bothered him the most was Ace’s expression- panic, fear, and something else he couldn’t describe. It was a feeling that he’d seen on survivors of destroyed islands, a feeling he sometimes saw on Koala’s face in her weakest moments.

It was only for an instant before Ace got up for his position, saying “Oh, fuck , sorry Sabo. Don’t scare me like that.”

“I called your name twice. The third time I shouted.”

Something flickered in the Logia user’s eyes. “Yeah, well, I just don’t like loud noises in the middle of the night.” Ace offered a hand to Sabo, who accepted it, standing up as he brushed the dust off his clothes. 

“Ace, be honest with me. What happened after I died?”

Said person refused to look Sabo in the eye, instead opting to stare at his feet as if they had become the most interesting thing on the Grand Line. Sabo found himself studying Ace’s expression, body movements, anything to give him the slightest hint.  Finally, Ace responded with “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes, don’t play dumb. Obviously something happened, for you to be acting like this; you’re never that affectionate and I’m pretty sure you never hugged Garp in your life.” He crossed his arms.

“Sabo… do you believe in time travel?” Ace looked up, tilting his head defiantly, posture tense.

Taken aback at the question, Sabo stared, open mouthed, at his brother, absolutely befuddled at the change of topic. What the hell did time travel have to do with anything? Then again, time travel had existed, according to some records that the Revolutionaries had uncovered. A woman, Kozuki Toki, ate the Toki Toki no Mi, (how ironic) and was given the power to travel through periods of time towards the future.

Then, there was something so desperate in Ace’s eyes that confused Sabo.

“Yes, time travel exists.” Sabo frowned. “That still doesn’t answer my question though.”

Ace visibly relaxed. “What happened when you were gone…well, Luffy and I cried for a long time. I got your note and I still have it, the one that says to take care of Luffy. I promised that I would never die and we had to live life without regrets…”

“And?” prompted Sabo.

“We trained to get stronger so we would never have to lose someone else. Ever again.” A soft smile played on Ace’s lips.

“Huh. You do know that everyone will die eventually though…right?”

“I haven’t broken that promise-yet.” There was something bitter in the way Ace said it that made Sabo wonder what he was thinking.

“Yeah, well, get some sleep. I’m going to talk to the Captain tomorrow to see if I can stay or not.”

“‘Kay. Are you staying here, or…?”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight. Good night.” Sabo closed the door behind him, walking out. He supposed he would just wander around until daylight.

But he was very. Very. Confused.

Saying that Ace was uneasy, very uneasy, was an understatement. Sabo obviously suspected something was off, and Ace blamed the damn Revolutionaries for honing his brother’s skills on being able to tell what a person was feeling.

There was nothing he could do now. He wasn’t about to end the loop over something so trivial.

(It was a very big problem that he would gladly ignore.)

At least Sabo would believe him if he said he was a fucking time traveler.

Dammit, now he couldn’t sleep. When Sabo apparently called his name, he had been having some rather unpleasant hallucinations. For example, Teach killing everyone he fucking cared about , Celestial Dragons torturing his precious younger brother , Akainu burning Sabo up, his brother’s face twisted in pure agony as he cried for Ace to save him….

Well, fuck. He needed a distraction, but stupid pineapple head wouldn’t let him do anything strenuous. Ace was pretty sure he was spying on his room to make sure he didn’t leave.

His original plan was to make the Whitebeard Pirates hate him (and he’d be damned, it hurt seeing their faces) and they were supposed to drop him off on the next island without a second glance. But then Sabo (and he said this with love) kinda fucked shit up. 

Nope, he was not throwing his plan out the window-

Oh. Oh, shit .

Even if he did succeed in making the Whitebeard Pirates hate him, Thatch would still find that fucking fruit and die a horrible death, with or without him.

His leaving the crew wouldn’t prevent Teach from killing Thatch. Fuck. When was Thatch killed originally? It was around a week before Luffy’s birthday, May fifth. That meant that he had approximately five months before Teach got the fruit and proceeded to wreak havoc on the crew.

Why didn’t he realize sooner? Ace cursed his stupid ass.

He had to plan something… excellent, he’d needed a distraction anyway. 

Now he just had to hide it from everyone. Especially Sabo.

Last year I had a breakdown

Thoughts tellin' me I'm lost gettin' too loud

Had to see a therapist, then I found out

Somethin' funny's goin' on up in my house

At the moment, Deuce was pissed at his Captain.

First, the dumbass decided to save a Whitebeard Pirate who had gotten kidnapped by slavers, leaving him numerous injuries. Then Ace apparently attacked the Strongest Man in the World for many, many consecutive days, earning him more scars. To put the cherry on top, he fucking starved himself.

Starved. Himself.

Yes, maybe he had to eavesdrop on a couple of conversations to glean this information. He didn’t regret it; after all, pirates took what they wanted by force, if necessary.

Deuce vented Ace’s actions to the former Spade Pirates, who were just as angry at their captain as he was.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ASSHOLE THINKING?!” Mihar roared over the Spades’ numerous complaints.

“AS THE FIRST MATE OF THE SPADES, I SAY WE GIVE HIM A PIECE OF OUR MIND!” Deuce yelled.

“AYE!”

“Hey, hey, don’t get so riled up now….” Saber commented. Kotatsu growled at him.

Saber was then promptly ignored and was pushed aside as the Spades stormed Whitebeard’s ship, searching for their Captain. Aggie 68 ended up with Wallace, the two being the first to find Ace’s room. Eventually, the pirates regrouped in one of Whitebeard’s numerous storage rooms.

“We found him!” Wallace whispered, careful not to wake any pirates up.

“LEAD US TO THAT DUMBASS OF A CAPTAIN!”

“KEEP IT DOWN, WILL YOU?” Deuce whispered-shouted. “If we wake any of the Whitebeard Pirates, things aren’t going to go well!”

“AYE!”

Deuce gave up. Sometimes being the only one with common sense and an actual brain was very hard.

The Spades followed Wallace’s lead to a wooden door, scorched at the edges and bottom. Deuce kicked it open, blatantly disregarding Ace’s personal space.

Their captain seemed to be scribbling desperately in a notebook, hair sticking to his forehead. He looked up, surprised, as he came face to face with an angry Deuce.

“What the h-” was all Ace managed to utter before the Spades blew up, their shouts filling the room. 

“The fuck were you thinking-”

“-Reckless, stupid, idiot-”

 “The fact that you would do this-”

“-Injuries, starvation, malnutrition ,-”

“-Asshole, I cannot believe-”

“GRRRRRRRRRRR-MEOW”

Ace shot up like a bullet. “Okay, okay , I get it, you don’t need to-”

“We don’t need to what ?” Banshee, the cook of the Spade Pirates, pointed an iron pan menacingly at Ace’s chest. “Because I fucking swear, if you say that we don’t need to worry over your dumbass, I will kill you before the Whitebeard Pirates can .”

The threat hung in the air, and Ace gulped, backing down as he shuffled his papers, turning them face-down. “Uh, look, I’m sorry?”

Deuce exhaled. Hard. “Someone please lock the door.”

“On it.” Mihal smiled deviously. “Oh, Ace. Prepare yourself for the scolding of a fucking lifetime .”

For the next hour and a half, the Spade Pirates’ muffled shouts rang out through the night up until dawn. 

…oOoOoOo…

When Sabo found Ace hanging out on the crow’s nest the next morning, he looked disheveled as if he had just fought off a mob of gangsters- or maybe Ace had just rolled out of bed. Knowing his brother, it could be both.

In any case, the dark circles under his eyes indicated that he probably hadn’t slept well at all. Ace definitely needed some cheering up.

”Hey.” Sabo sat down besides Ace. “How are you doing?”

“Well, my latest attempt to kill Whitebeard hasn’t gone well. Obviously,” Ace remarked dryly, gesturing towards the main deck where the man sat, laughing with Haruta.

“Why not torture the rest of the crew while you’re trying to kill you-know-who?”

Ace raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you see, they kidnapped you, and you’re very upset about it.”

Ace nodded sagely. “They are a family of kidnapping assholes.”

“So why not torture them? Make them regret bringing you here? You can start small. Little things, like dying their clothes pink, throwing their shoes overboard, wetting all the socks while breaking the dryer.”

The fire user stared at Sabo in disbelief, before saying “You are a fucking genius. That’s why you’re the smart brother. Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. You know what- yeah, I will make them regret…” Ace trailed off in incomprehensible mutters, no doubt planning something absolutely horrendous. Sabo snapped his fingers under Ace’s nose to get his attention.

“If you’re planning to do something incredibly crazy, do it now, because I’m going to have a little talk with Whitebeard about staying on this ship.”

Ace flashed a grin. “Do you, by any chance, have glitter glue on you?”

Sabo bit back a choke, reaching into his pocket as he pulled out an ungodly amount of the craft supply. Ace snatched it and snickered concerningly.

The events that transpired would later be dubbed, courtesy by none other than Thatch, as “The Incident from Hell,” which was exactly what it was.

Was Ace procrastinating trying to stop impending doom?

Yes. Yes he was. He whistled quietly to himself, an old tune he’d picked up loops ago. He didn’t know why, but all of a sudden, he just felt…okay. Not great, but not depressed, either. It was the miracle of Sabo.

But now he had to focus on the task at hand. He may not be able to verbally abuse his brothers the Whitebeard Pirates, but he could still make them go fucking crazy until they let him go. Not like that would prevent Thatch’s death, but he didn’t know what to do to prevent it. And he fucking hated being so damn useless, hell, he hated himself and the fucking mess his life became.

That was why he was mixing glitter glue mixed with pink dye into the sixteenth division’s laundry as he sent a silent apology to Izou. Oh, as soon as the cross-dresser found out, he would never, ever forgive Ace for ruining any of his precious kimonos, because, according to him, they were fucking expensive.

Ace slammed the washing machine door a bit harder than necessary as he poured the atrocious pink, glittery mixture into the appliance, setting the timer for ten minutes.

Then he high-tailed it out of there, despite wanting to see Izou’s reaction badly . They wanted him to be his brother, so this is what they would get.

Two floors and three rooms away, Izou sneezed loudly.

Sabo stared up at Whitebeard, expression unreadable as he cleared his throat.

“Ahem. So. I am Outlook D. Sabo of the Revolutionaries and brother of Portgas D. Ace. Pleased to meet you.” He waited for the older pirate’s response, tense and ready to fight back if Whitebeard chose to attack at the moment.

On the contrary, he just laughed. “A Revolutionary, eh? Well, hopefully you don’t try to kill me like your brother, but I can take you both on at once. You’re a hundred years too young to challenge me!”

The fight dissipated out of Sabo’s shoulders as he relaxed. “Do I have permission to stay on board?”

“Any brother of my soon-to-be son is welcome to stay as long as they want!” Whitebeard’s eyes twinkled, a smile poorly hidden under his moustache. 

Sabo nodded. “Thank you for letting me stay.” He bowed (proper manners couldn’t be beaten out of him) and caught Marco and Thatch staring at him out of the corner of his eyes.

BOOM!

A large explosion rocked the ship, coming from the lower decks. Shouts could be heard as people hurried to find the source of the problem.

Sabo gulped. He had told Ace he could buy some time for him to do something, but with “something” as large as this, he wasn’t sure if he could do anything. Desperately trying to redirect the conversation back to him, he blurted out, stupidly, “Why do people call you Whitebeard if you don’t have a beard? You have a moustache.”

“Guararararara! That, my son, is for me to know and for you to find out.”

Sabo looked at the Yonko incredulously. “Son? You met me, what, five minutes ago?”

“I’m a good judge of character. Besides, you’re Ace’s brother, not by blood, but with a bond stronger than it. Any brother of one of our sons is adopted by default.”

“Ah.” What was he supposed to say to that? This wasn’t covered in the Revolutionaries’ training!

“Now let’s go see what happened in the lower decks. I have a feeling that our resident pyromaniac had something to do with it.”

By the time Sabo had gotten to the cause of the explosion, Ace was long gone. Obviously he wasn’t stupid enough to stick around, because oh Kami, he really outdid himself.

The washing machine had exploded, small shards embedded into the surrounding walls. But the star of the show were the glittery pink clothes stuck to the ceiling, (so that was what the ‘glue’ was for) some scorched while others were perfectly intact. What really captured Sabo’s attention was the sight of Izou, the sixteenth division commander, sobbing over clothes- clothes that could be replaced easily , while Thatch patted the cross-dresser’s back consolingly.

“When I find out who did this,” Izou shook his fists at the ceiling, “I will murder them, bring them back to life again, then kill them again . And again .”

Marco’s shoulders were shaking, but not with fury. Sabo suspected he was trying to contain his laughter.

Ace breathed a sigh of relief; he was safe from Izou’s wrath, at least for now. He was currently hiding in the ventilation system, a mouse the size of his fist scuttling by. Suppressing a shudder at the rodent, he crawled his way back to his room, exhaling as he dropped down onto the wooden floor. He could just say he’d been in his room all along.

A wave of exhaustion hit him- after all, he’d stayed up all night fighting his former crew to avoid being insulted to death.

He had to admit, seeing their faces did him some good, he felt a bit better. The only reason he was alive was because a narcoleptic attack hit him and someone- Deuce, maybe? Put him to bed. When he woke up, they were all gone, but Ace knew they weren’t done yet. They were biding their time, probably, waiting until he was alone to yell at him again. With more feelings and anger and shit. 

Feelings sucked.

Everything sucked.

So Ace just slept, because life was shit, and he didn’t feel like being conscious anymore.

He didn’t feel like living anymore. Ending it all sounded like a good option.

He was tired. So tired of it all.

Chapter Text

Fuck it all.

Ace groaned as he sat up and rubbed his eyes, blinking hard.

It was dark. Ace supposed he had slept through the entire day…what was today, anyway? The next day or the day after the day before or…?

Nah, too confusing. He didn’t want to think. He didn’t want to exist . But he had to, had to save his family, he couldn’t give up the fight just yet. 

Even if it was pure agony.

Wow, it was one of those days, the days where he went back to square one and felt depressed, well, more than usual, more insane, more liable to break down sooner or later. And just when he thought he was getting better; fan-fucking-tastic. 

Hadn’t he always been at square one? Square two was feeling slightly happier, he supposed, but then he would reset inside the reset, which was fucking confusing, Ace thought as he cracked a fake, humorless grin.

Oh, and he had to now deal with Sabo and the Spades and the Whitebeard Pirates. It was way easier with just one party…or not.

So he was feeling suicidal? Yes.

He would argue to anyone that he wasn’t a psycho, but he might go crazy. And if that wasn’t fucked up, oh wait, his existence was , how could he forget? Silly Ace.

Talking to himself was strange, one might dare to call it crazy, bordering insanity, but Ace was already both of those things.

He swallowed a lump in his throat; why had he felt the need to cry so much lately? He was weak, fucking weak, crying was weak, and he didn’t like crybabies….

Where did that memory come from?

He dug his fingers into his skin, easily breaking through the flesh as he scratched and scratched and scratched , blood springing to the surface. Minutes later, he looked at his handiwork, his skin exhibiting long, scarlet marks as flames desperately tried to heal him.

It didn’t. The cuts and scratches looked beautifully eerie illuminated in the light of his fire, reflecting crimson droplets as they rolled down his elbow. Ace watched, transfixed as a droplet, for lack of better word, dripped onto the bedding. More and more followed and soon, most of his blanket was covered in blood, the heavy metallic stench thick in the air.

Ace cursed himself silently. Sabo would definitely raise questions about the scratches…getting rid of the blood was easy enough.

He could just say he was scratched…by a sea king. That definitely made sense. Yes.

Burning the blankets to ashes, the smell of smoke quickly replaced the acrid scent of blood.

Well, he did have a choice. Laugh, scream, or cry.

Murder, destroy, or torment.

So he chose laughter and destruction with a hint of madness, what a perfect recipe.

And he laughed and smiled and grinned, forcing all his pain behind one simple mask of insanity. No one would find out about his mental instability. No one would care when they learned the truth.

He was living in a world of lies.

Laughter. Manic laughter.

Flopping back down on his bed, Ace laid spread-eagled knowing that he would get no sleep that night. The faint throbbing of the scratches on his arms gave him that hint.

As he closed his eyes, he wondered what he did to deserve people who cared about him, who wanted him, even though he was the son of the devil, even though he caused their death, excluding Sabo, so many times.

He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve anything, not even to live.

Although he supposed that dying permanently would be a mercy.

Ace didn’t know how much longer he could go on. The stress was getting to him.

And he was losing his mind.

The cracks were widening, everything was breaking, and he was choking.

It was simple, really, Izou thought as he furiously scrubbed at his kimonos, desperate to get the dye and glitter off.

It was either Thatch or Haruta, the two pranksters on the Moby Dick. But something in his gut told him that it hadn’t been either of the two, judging from the way the two had reacted to the prank. Although distressed about the state of his clothing, he could still pick up on small details, namely Thatch’s jaw straight-up dropping and Harua’s eyes bulging out of their sockets.

It definitely wasn’t Marco for sure, the poor phoenix now had more paperwork to do which he obviously wouldn’t give himself. He was certain that it wasn’t Oyaji either, or any of the commanders.

Then there were the two new brats on the ship, Fire- Fist and Sabo, the brothers of chaos.

He was pretty sure it wasn’t Fire Fist, something had changed in him and the cross dresser’s sharp eyes had caught it. One thing was for sure; this Ace was not the same person who challenged their Oyaji months ago after fighting a Warlord for five days straight. He knew a lot about hiding things, having grown up in Wano. Secrets were no stranger, and he could normally figure them out within a day or two. A month at most.

But Fire Fist was a mystery to him. It was the little things, minuscule details that most people would overlook; the way his smiles, fake smiles twitched, the dullness in his eyes. How he pushed himself every day to kill their Oyaji, breaking his limits before that brother of his arrived. How Fire-Fist made suicidal remarks, how he saved Thatch and wrote it off as if he had never intended to, although breaking into a den of slavers said differently. Something about him made the brat look too old for his age, as if he had seen and been exposed to the harsh, cruel realities of the world too young.

Izou scrubbed harder, not noticing when he accidentally tore his kimono.

What was he missing?

Then there was a Sabo, a Revolutionary. They were known for being slick, hard to catch in the act. He had only met the blonde brother a day ago, and it was hard to pick up on his feelings. Another enigma. Sabo was the most likely suspect, but he couldn’t accuse him without concrete proof or evidence.

He cursed as he turned his attention back to his kimono, still dirty and now torn.

He was missing a piece, something vitally important. And it wasn’t about his clothes; they could be bought easily with money.

It was something about Ace.

It's not just a phase, now let me explain

I'm working through some shit, sometimes I'm medicated

It's hard to relay, the thoughts in my brain

I'm working for a life that's not domesticated

Sabo stifled his laughter as he wandered aimlessly around the Moby Dick, recounting the incident that occurred yesterday. Gods, Izou’s reaction to his ruined clothes were priceless. Of course he had snapped pictures with a camera den-den to use as future blackmail in case the Whitebeard Pirates decided to try something fishy.

Whitebeard had later offered a guest room to Sabo, to which he declined. He really wasn’t comfortable with taking up that much space in the Moby, although the old pirate insisted. Eventually he settled on moving into a small room next to Ace’s, the Yonko simply wouldn’t budge. Fucking stubborn, that’s what he was, but not nearly as stubborn as his pyromaniac brother.

Plus he wouldn’t be here for long anyway, sadly.

Dragon had called just an hour before, saying something about a very important mission and that they couldn’t miss this opportunity. Sabo had replied he’d be there within the week, after all it took around two days to get to the Revolutionaries’ meeting place on an unnamed island.

But in case of bad weather, he had to leave the next day, meaning he only got one more day with Ace. How unfortunate.

Sabo sighed as he made his way back to his room, not having the heart to tell Whitebeard that he would be gone the next day and he didn’t need a room.

He supposed he should tell Ace. He changed his route to his brother’s room and knocked on the door.

“Ace! I’m coming in!”

This time Ace responded with, “Yeah, give me a sec.” He cracked open the door, blinking blearily at his brother’s face, body blocking most of the room.

“Can I come in?”

“It’s a bit messy.”

“I don’t mind.”

Ace chewed on his lip, as if considering his decision- was it that hard to make up his mind? Sabo had dealt with Luffy’s mess, surely he could deal with Ace’s.

Finally, Ace opened the door, scratching the back of his neck a bit awkwardly.

His room indeed was a mess. The bed’s mattress halfway ripped to shreds with the faint scent of smoke in the air. The single table in the room sat overturned as scorch marks patterned the walls. His hat was the only thing intact, innocently existing on the floor, not a speck of dust on its brim. Letting out a low whistle, Sabo sat down on the floor, Ace mirroring his actions.

“I was a bit frustrated,” Ace admitted.

“Damn. I can see that. Want to talk about it?”

Ace’s eyes hardened. “No. You’ll think it’s stupid.”

“Come on. I won’t push, but I’m listening.”

Ace promptly ignored Sabo, choosing to stare at the wall instead.

Sabo huffed, not angry but a bit annoyed. “I’m your brother and you can trust me. If it’s a secret I won’t tell.” His eyes lit up in mischief. “Oh, do you have a crush on someone on the crew?”

“ What ?!?! No! That’s completely unrelated to my…issue….”

“Suuureee.”

“Sabo, do you-” Ace cut himself off, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. Sabo frowned, concerned, and looked at Ace, an unexplainable chill running through his body as he saw puffy red streaks on his brother’s arms.

“Ace…” Sabo started.

“It’s just… do you think I can do anything right? I mean, am I just a fucking failure? I tried and tried and tried but I can’t sav- but I can’t kill him. I can’t kill Whitebeard. I’m weak, so, so, so pathetically weak , and I can’t do anything right. I can only lead the ones I care about to their deaths.” 

Sabo’s eyes widened. “Ace, that’s not tr-”

Shuddering, Ace took a deep breath as he hugged himself. “I can’t do it. It’s too hard, and they all hate me, and Sabo, is it because I’m his son? The moment they know the truth, the moment they know everything , they’ll throw me off the crew, they’ll kill me, they’ll drop their act of family. They wouldn’t want me, and I’ll understand, but they don’t get it right now, they keep holding on, and it’s like a rope. A rope around my neck.”

No longer holding onto himself, Ace began gesturing widely and Sabo was surprised to see tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “It’s a rope, and they keep tightening it and it’s strangling me. It’s killing me , Sabo! They think that they can try to heal me with their love and kindness, but all that is fucking bullshit . It’s bullshit! Because I don’t deserve it, I don't deserve anything, hell, I don’t deserve you and Luffy, I can’t do it, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t , and it’s breaking , everything’s cracked , and I keep trying to put the pieces back together. But the pieces are sharp and the blood’s on my hands, and Sabo-

-do I deserve to live ?”

Sabo registered Ace biting his lips, drawing blood as he smiled, a deranged, broken smile.

So Sabo hugged him, feeling his brother shake and shudder as he gasped and sobbed and hiccuped in his embrace, tears pouring steadily, faster and faster, cascading down his cheeks.

He didn’t care about the tears; he knew Ace was hurt. Ace always didn’t give a shit about himself; he had never cared for his life, and would throw it away in an instant to save his family. Sabo knew Ace would burn down the world for him and Luffy.

“ Do I deserve to live? ” The line repeated in Sabo’s head like a broken record.

“Ace, you big fucking dumbass. Luffy and I would never have survived without you. We need you here, I need you. You were a fucking blessing to us, you were the best thing to ever happen to me.” Sabo buried his head in his brother’s hair, feeling tears prick at his own eyes.

“ Do I deserve to live? ”

“Without you, I would have died at Grey Terminal by myself, alone and never having the chance to taste freedom. And Luffy…Luffy would have somehow pissed off Porchemy and Bluejam and died without us, all alone. Remember? ‘Being alone is worse than death?’ You deserve to live, Ace. I don’t care about your parentage and neither is Luffy, so fuck everyone else. We need you and I’m pretty sure you need us.” His shoulders shook as he cried silent tears along with Ace.

“ Do I deserve to live? ”

“You deserve to live, and I’ll keep telling you that until the day you die.”

“Sabo….What if you die before me? I can’t, I won’t, lose you again.” Tears ran down Ace’s freckled cheeks.

“I promise,” Sabo whispered, barely above a whisper. “I promise I’ll never die.”

The two sat together, hugging tightly as they cried, gut wrenching sobs, for a long time until they eventually fell asleep on the ground, eyes puffy. Ace’s head rested on Sabo’s shoulder, mouth tilted ever so slightly upwards.

For the first time, Ace didn’t have any nightmares; it was just blissful nothingness.

It never goes the way that you planned

Success is a door that always slams

I'm trying to break it

I'm trying to break it

Marco stepped into Ace’s room to deliver food, courtesy of Thatch. The candles were out, so he was, must be asleep-

He stumbled onto an arm and he looked down, seeing Ace and Sabo sleep next to each other on the ground. For once, a snarl or glare wasn’t pasted on Ace’s face, and he would daresay that he looked cute when he slept. A peaceful, serene expression. Gods, if Thatch ever saw this he would have definitely taken some pictures for blackmail.

He must admit, seeing Ace almost, almost smiling made his heart lift just a bit. It was no secret to him, at least, that Ace had some problems, ones that he had closed off and hidden away. Thatch would have tried to coax them out and heal Ace, slowly, carefully, as if treating a small, fragile, broken bird. And from what Marco had seen, Ace wouldn’t appreciate the comparison.

Marco wasn’t Thatch, he was just Marco. He wasn’t about to prod into someone’s secrets; when the time was right they would be revealed. So he set the food on the floor, seeing as the table was destroyed and he left. Marco considered setting food for Sabo as well, and decided to go to the kitchens to ask for another plate.

He walked on the worn planks as he made his way there, slowly, deliberately. Eventually, he made his way there and popped his head in. One of the chefs, Jericho, supplied him with food and Marco thanked him and left.

After dropping food off in Sabo’s room, Marco followed the familiar passageway to Oyaji’s room, knocking. He had finished his paperwork and planned to deliver it. After there was no reply, he opened the door-

-And saw Oyaji slumped in a chair, unconscious, nose bleeding.

A strangled cry ripped from his throat, and he sprinted across the room. Within seconds, he was next to his adoptive father, checking for a pulse, fear thrumming through his veins.

There. Although faint, he was still alive. 

Marco mentally slapped himself upside the head; of course Pops would be alive; he wouldn’t die from-

What caused it? Think, Marco, think .

Surely it couldn't be Ace, the fire-brat was strong, but not strong enough to kill their father.

…Right? He thought back to Ace’s last couple assassination attempts and remembered one in particular, when Ace poured arsenic acid, in front of everyone, into Oyaji’s sake.

What had Oyaji done with the drink? Surely he wasn’t stupid enough to consume it. Even if he had, one measly bit of acid wouldn’t be enough to kill him.

Fuck. Ace had poured the whole bottle in, if he recalled correctly. And if Oyaji drank it…

Think rationally, Marco. He’s not dumb enough to do something like that…

But what if? There’s no other explanation!

Marco forced open one of Oyaji’s eyelids, and the pupil dilated.

So he did the only thing he could. He tore across the ship, searching for Bay, hoping, praying she was sober enough to find out what was wrong with Pops. Bursting into the infirmary, he shouted “Bay!”

Said doctor walked out of a room, cross. “You can’t scream here, there’s patients recovering. What happened?”

“It’s Pops.” Normally Marco was a very calm man, but now he was pale and antsy, fingers tapping against his thigh.

Bay frowned. “What…?”

“I don’t know . Follow me.” With that, Marco took off again, walking at a fast pace but not exactly running. Bay quickly caught up to him. “Tell me everything that happened.”

“I walked into Oyaji’s room to deliver paperwork, and he didn’t answer the door. So I just went in, and he was unconscious in his chair. I don’t know what happened.”

“Maybe he drank too much,” Bay replied.

“I don’t think that’s it.”

They arrived at Oyaji’s room, and Bay burst in. Waving Marco off, she said, “I’ll run some tests on him, take some blood.” 

“But-”

Bay cut Marco off. “Go do your Commander duties or whatever. I can’t work with you hovering over me. I’ll let you know first if I find something.”

Marco bit back a retort and followed Bay’s instructions, walking out.

He was still scared. 

Ace sat up, cracking his neck. His head seemed surprisingly clear. Huh. Sabo wasn’t next to him anymore either; he must have left.

The enticing smell of Thatch's cooking made his stomach growl. He looked over and saw plates of food stacked on top of each other.

After making sure no one was around to watch him, he started eating, finishing the food in record time. When he was done, he sat back to think.

He had to make the Whitebeard Pirates hate him, but it wasn’t easy with Sabo around. So he just had to step up the way he acted. Make himself colder, block out his feelings, snarl and curse at any Whitebeard Pirate who dared to talk to him. Maybe throw a couple of punches, that certainly would get him kicked off the ship. He had to make the fucking crew think he was too dangerous, like how Vista had thought.

Vista’s thoughts had almost definitely changed after he saved Thatch from slavers; that was a really stupid move on his part. So he just had to act even worse…maybe hurt Thatch.

Ace immediately felt sick after thinking that. He didn’t want to be like Teach, kill a crewmember.

They’re not my crew and they never will be .

Bile rose in his throat and he forced it back down. 

Someone knocked out the door, and Ace prepared his mask of anger and hate. He threw open the door, snarling, and came face to face with Sabo.

“Sorry,” Ace said sheepishly, dropping the act quickly.

Sabo pretended not to notice and fiddled with the hem of his top hat nervously. “Are you okay?”

Real slick, Sabo.

“Yeah, of course I’m fine.”

“Care to walk with me?”

“Sure.”

The two walked out to the main deck to a secluded part of the ship, overlooking the waves. Jokingly, Ace raised an eyebrow. “You’re not planning to kill me, right?”

“No! Why the hell would I- never mind. It’s just that Dragon called…I have a mission. I have to leave today.”

Ace’s heart fell, but he didn’t let it show. Just a slight twitch of his lips.

“Oh.”

“Um, so….” Sabo reached into his pockets, pulling out three red sake cups and a bottle of East Blue Sake. Ace’s eyes widened.

Grinning at Ace’s expression, Sabo sat down on the ground, setting the cups in a triangle. He poured the sake into each cup, the drink splashing over the sides.

“How the hell did you-actually, I don’t want to know. Ace sat besides Sabo, taking his portion, tipping his head back as he downed the drink in a single gulp. Sabo mirrored his movements.

“Tastes like crap.”

Sabo laughed. “Yeah.”

Ace stared at the last untouched cup, and making up his mind, poured it into the sea. Sabo watched him, a small smile on his face.

Searching for words, and praying for signs

I struggle to find the rhythm and rhyme

Don't know how to say it

Don't know how to say it

In the dead of night, Sabo left in a small boat without a word to the crew. Ace watched him go, then made up his mind.

“Wait! Sabo!”

“Hm?” Sabo looked up, confusion written on his face. “Oh, yeah! Here’s my vivre card and here’s a den-den. It can’t be wiretapped.” Scribbling something on a piece of paper, Sabo added, “Here’s my number, call me when you need something, ‘kay?”

“Sabo, it’s just….Do you think you can find information about Marshall D. Teach?”

“Teach…? Isn’t he part of the second division of the Whitebeard Pirates? You had a problem with him.”

“Yeah, I know.” Chewing his inner cheek, Ace chose his next words carefully. “I heard…rumors. Rumors about him being a large figure in the Underworld, under the alias ‘Blackbeard.’ They say he’s a traitor to the Whitebeard Pirates. They say that he’s looking for something, going to slave auctions to find it.”

“Ace, where did you hear this?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Sabo frowned. “That’s a serious accusation. Do you have proof?”

“No. That’s why….You’re a Revolutionary, you can sneak into places and shit. I hate to ask you, but do you think you could find out if this is true or not?”

Sabo’s eyes hardened. “Yeah, I can do that. I will do that. Leave it to me.” He flashed a grin, and the tension released from Ace’s shoulders.

“Thanks, Sabo, I owe you one.”

“It’s no problem, really.”

Sabo hugged Ace and stepped back. “I’m going to go now, I’ll see you later.”

Even after Sabo left, Ace stared at the place where Sabo used to be. He remembered his brother’s bright grin, and couldn’t help but feel as if he’d just made a terrible mistake. His head pounded, and he knew that something had just changed. Had he fucked up everything?

Had he doomed another brother to their death?

Chapter Text

Ace’s mood worsened the next morning as he woke up and remembered that he was alone , and Sabo wasn’t here with him anymore.

Well, that fucking sucked. And he was also fucking insane.

He slipped out of bed, limbs protesting as they ached horribly . His head pounded and he felt nauseous.

Resisting the overwhelming urge to hurl, Ace forced himself to get up, move , anywhere from this god-forsaken room that he had come to describe as “prison.”

At least on the bright side, now someone was looking into Teach, and Ace could possibly-maybe-finally get the evidence he needed to show, oh hey, Teach is a traitor, kill him, and you won’t mind if I just go now, will you ?

As if the Whitebeard Pirates would let him go that easily. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone ?

Questions, questions, and no answer in sight. Ace doubted he would ever find one. 

He stretched, cracking his sore neck as he decided what to do to kill Whitebeard this time. 

Speaking of the old pirate ( who’s not my father , Ace thought,) Whitebeard had been looking rather…pale yesterday. Maybe it was just his imagination though. The fire-user shrugged the thought off, trying to ignore everything in his gut screaming that something was seriously wrong.

Teach walked with a purpose, occasionally grinning and laughing with the nearest “crewmember” that he saw. He had somewhere to be, but he couldn’t make it too suspicious.

After all, Teach thought , a certain someone is on my trail .

Making his way into the communication room, Teach smiled at the other occupant in the room. His name was…Jacob? Jared? He couldn’t remember. “Hey! I need to make a quick private call. Can I borrow a den-den?”

The other man rubbed sleep-deprived eyes, and responded, “Yeah, sure.”

Teach thanked him, trying not to show his disgust as the man handed him a snail. He would have preferred not to make any contact with the man at all, if necessary. He was a fool anyway.

And I’ve got all the fools here trapped under my thumb. All except for one, anyway .

Making sure that he was in a secluded spot where no one would notice him, Teach dialed a number and smiled when a certain colleague of his picked up. It was not a nice smile.

“Hey, Doc. I need you to track- and maybe kill- someone for me. Think you can do that?”

‘Doc’ responded with a lazy drawl. “Sure, boss. Want him sunny-side up with a side of mayonnaise?”

“Doc, you’re disgusting. No one eats eggs with mayonnaise .”

“I need a description, dear boss of mine.”

“How silly of me!” The glint in Teach’s eyes said that he had not forgotten about the need for a description. “Tall, lanky. blonde, dresses like a noble. Got that down?”

“You didn’t need to ask.”

Click .

Ace frowned, trying not to let his concern show on the fact that Whitebeard was not in his usual spot on the giant chair on the deck. It was rather warm for the New World, and the few pirates foolish enough to mingle on the deck were sweating buckets in the sweltering heat. Thankfully he was unaffected, after all, his devil fruit made him immune to severe weather. Well, most of the time, anyway.

But where else he could be? Maybe he was still sleeping, but alarm bells in his head were ringing , ringing so, so loud.

Plus he couldn’t exactly attack the Yonko if he didn’t know where Newgate was.

Exhaling angry, Ace spun around on his heel, shoving Whitebeard Pirates out of the way as he stalked to the lower, cooler floors angrily. For whatever reason, the pirates glared back at him; unusual. Most of the time they just ignored his attitude. It worked in his favor anyway. Maybe they were finally getting the message that he couldn-didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be here.

He could keep lying to himself until he got off the ship.

Using his Observation Haki, Ace found Whitebeard in the medical ward. Maybe he was just getting his medication since his health was declining at a rapid rate.

(That wasn’t right, usually the nurses went to him. Whitebeard had never ever gone there under his free will.)

Chewing his lip nervously, Ace considered his next moves. (Why was he? He wasn’t supposed to care about them anymore, dammit!)

Ace just knew that something was wrong this time; he wasn’t stupid. What had he done this time? He was fairly certain that he hadn’t been able to harm Pop- Whitebeard , so what was it? Something had changed in the loop, something had fucking changed , what were the factors? What were the solutions? What was new this time around that caused something to derail?

Sabo .

Had Sabo done something to the old pirate? No, probably not , Ace thought. But Sabo is a part of this equation. I can’t undo the past in this loop, but I can always add more factors .

So how had Sabo’s appearance affected the Yonko?

Punching a wall, Ace cursed loudly. “ Fuuuuuucccckkkkkkk .” He dragged a hand over his face, trying to decipher what had happened. How could he fix it? He wasn’t going to kill himself, no, because then he may never see Sabo again.

Stick to the facts. What do you know? Write it all down, organize the information, make sure no one can find it .

He needed paper. And a pencil. He’d go steal some from the navigation room, write it all down, plan his next moves accordingly. How to kill Teach, what Sabo’s appearance had caused, why Whitebeard was in the medical bay.

And no one would ever find out what he was doing. He wouldn’t let them.

It would only result in their deaths.

I'm losing my mind

Trying to find the perfect line

I think I'm running out of time

I need a miracle, a miracle

“No.”

Marco stared at Bay, unable to comprehend what she just said.

“Let me repeat myself if you don’t get it.” Bay frowned. “We ran tests. Found traces of poison and drugs in Oyaji’s system.”

“But Pops is strong.” Marco shook his head. “There’s no way that he’d be taken down by poison. And drugs. It’s impossible.”

Exhaling, Bay ran a hand over her face. “Let’s just say…the drugs used have certain, ah, properties . Certain components. These properties contain things that Oyaji is allergic to. And let’s just say that mixed with poison, Oyaji’s body becomes weaker than normal, allowing him to have a strong allergic reaction while being affected by the drug and poison at the same time.” Bay paused. “Did I mention the allergic reaction yet?”

“Who would do something like that?” Tilting his head to the side, Marco continued. “Very few people know about Oyaji’s allergies. Unless you think that they coincidentally picked a drug that Pops just so happens to be allergic to .” Blue flames licked at the edges of his fingers.

Bay blew out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know . But whoever it was certainly knew what they were doing. This drug is very rare, specially produced in the West Blue. It has a special plant in it that makes it so effective.”

“…So a cartel business is now involved. Fan-fucking-tastic. Add on the fact that word got out about Pops’ health somehow, and crewmembers are starting to suspect Ace as the culprit. Rumors are a dangerous thing.”

“Well that’s just great.” Bay cursed. “Knowing this crew, nasty rumors are going to spread fast . People won’t pay attention to the fact that a seventeen year old kid managed to take down the Strongest Man In the World . It’s ridiculous! Marco, you gotta stop the gossip before it’s too late. You’re the only one with the power and authority; you are the first mate after all. People aren’t going to listen to me.”

“I’m flattered. But Ace hasn’t really been making a good impression on himself, if you get what I mean. Some people don’t trust Pops’ judgment, they’ll question it, wonder why he decided to try to adopt a kid with a bad attitude and…problems. Well, if you get past the attitude and violence, then you would see the problems anyway. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I can stop most of the rumors from spreading, but not all of them. Pops is the only one who can really do that.

Although rumors are seriously a big issue. They can be scarily powerful.”

“Well, try your best. I’ll update you on Pops’ condition, for now I’ll prescribe him medication and I’ll make sure he drinks enough water. He has to flush the drugs out of his system one way or another.”

“I’ll try,” Marco murmured, mostly to himself.

Bay left the room. 

Sabo sighed, rubbing his temples in an attempt to relieve the incoming migraine.

He wasn’t an idiot, unlike a certain hotheaded brother of his. He knew that someone was tailing him for the past couple of days, their intent unknown. Dammit, they were good. 

Speaking of Ace, Sabo’s mind wandered back to the night where Ace had cried, going on and on about not being strong enough. Gods, it hurt him, and he didn’t know what he could do to help his brother. It was quite obvious that Ace had some daddy issues in the past, and maybe people telling him that he shouldn’t be alive may have contributed to…that.

Then there was Ace talking about Teach with a haunted look in his eyes. That was where Sabo knew that something was wrong, he had never been that scared. The Ace he knew was an immovable force of stubbornness and strength. 

Ace would have only been fiercely protective if his family was being threatened. Even then, the fiery determination to protect and destroy would have still burned. However, that fire seemed to have been greatly diminished.

What had happened to Ace? 

And how could he help?

For now, he just had to focus on meeting with the other Revolutionaries. They should be expecting him.

Plus he could get some information about Teach along the way.

“ They say that he’s looking for something, going to slave auctions to find it.”

He could check the slave auctions, see if he could glean anything. Couldn’t Ace have told him what this “something” was? When has Ace ever been so cryptic ?

His haki picked up the presence tailing him. It seemed to flare for a moment, then it disappeared. Sabo’s uneasiness doubled.

This is fucking awesome.

Yeah, I'm losing my mind

Counting seconds passing by

And I don't know when I'll be fine

I need a miracle, a miracle

Shanks grinned. Terrorizing the Marines were so much fun! They were attacking him for no reason. All he had wanted to do was get a drink with Newgate! Maybe he’d check on Luffy’s brother, Fire-Fist!

His first mate, Benn Beckman, sighed as Shanks laughed loud and free. “Shanks, you do realize that two Yonkos don’t meet just because they want to , right?”

“Yup!” Shanks childishly popped the p.

“And you do realize the Marines are trying to stop us because they believe that we’re going to start a war with Edward Newgate?”

Shanks bobbed his head, sending out a wave of Conqueror's Haki as he did so. The Marines screamed in terror as they went down, one after the other.

“...I am stuck with idiots.” Benn huffed, spitting the cigarette out of his mouth. Taking out his gun, he shot a Marine that was about to attack one of the crewmembers. “Oi! Watch your back!”

“Sorry.” The pirate, Zenn, apologized, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Ooh! Ben, watch this!” Shanks poked a finger in a mysterious green substance leaking onto the ship, possibly from a Marine’s devil fruit.

“DON’T TOUCH THAT, CAPTAIN!” the crew chorused.

“...Meanies. I’m perfectly fine.” Raising his voice, Shanks yelled, “HOW LONG UNTIL WE REACH NEWGATE?”

“TWO HOURS!” Building Snake shouted.

The last of the Marines fell, and the Red Force sailed on.

Ace sighed, rubbing his eyes as he stared at the notes he’d written, gathered, and organized from the past few hours. He began to reread the notes, murmuring them to himself like the crazy psychopath he was.

“I started the loop again, same as usual. Plan: act like an asshole, make them hate me. Stick to the plan. Make everybody hate me, get thrown off the ship. If the plan is not working, take it up notch, bring up the evil assassination plots to a dozen a day.

Every time someone tries to be nice, curse them and shit. Insult Pops Whitebeard to their face. Screw how I try to take his life, anything works. Maybe attack him from behind, make people think that I am a coward. The Whitebeard Pirates will not want a coward. Do not end the loop. Not unless something goes horribly wrong.

Something went wrong. Sabo is here, somehow. End the loop and I may never see him again. Whitebeard is ill. What went wrong?

Timeline: I loop. I steal food. Coaco Island, I saved Thatch from slavers. Injury in the back. That fucking sucks, don’t ever do that again, now the Whitebeard Pirates may trust me more. Have to do something to break that trust. Accidental breakdown. Sabo and Garp came. Sabo stayed, I fucking told him things I shouldn’t have,  he went on mission. I told him about Blackbeard. Fuck fuck fuck I ruined everything.

Sabo found out I was starving myself, now the Whitebeard Pirates are mother-henning me.” Frowning, Ace circled that note and moved it to after “Sabo and Garp came”.

“But what caused Whitebeard’s illness?”

Ace blew out a breath, coughing. What had caused him to be sick? What was it? Sabo was the new factor. It could be connected to him.

But I told him about Teach-

- What if Teach overheard me-

- Fuck, Sabo’s in danger, he’s in danger, he’s in danger, HE’S IN DANGER AND IT’S ALL MY FAULT-

Breathe .

Teach may not have overheard him. Maybe he was overthinking things again. That still wouldn’t explain why Pops was sick, though.

(His gut said otherwise.)

 Now he just had to hide these notes somewhere safe, after all, Thatch would come with food soon and Ace would not let him know anything that was going on with him . 

Oh, he should probably write that down too. “Do not tell anybody, under any circumstances. Nothing good will come out of it.” After all, the last time he’d admitted his…disturbing secret to the crew, things hadn’t gone well. They forced him into therapy, attempted to cure his mental instability. How funny! As if it could be cured!

Ace laughed. Not normal, happy laughter, but one that told people that he was fucking insane and should not be approached.

Chapter Text

Sabo looked up at the early morning sky. He breathed in the scent of the salty air, and then went on his way to prepare for his arrival on Foodvalten. Looking through a spyglass, he spotted Whitebeard’s proud flag flying high in the distance.

Huh. Funnily enough, he’d just come from the Whitebeard Pirates’ ship.

Throwing down the anchor, the blonde Revolutionary hopped off the ship onto the docking area of the port on the island. He paid the fee, not wanting to risk stirring trouble on the Yonko’s territory.

Now where was he supposed to meet the other Revolutionaries…?

He huffed, trying to remember the directions Koala had given him. Maybe he shouldn’t have hung up the den-den so early….

Ah, right! Towards the western side, where he’d see the cliff with the eucalyptus tree!

Sabo frowned as the presence following him re-appeared again. How annoying. Although he dismissed it as nothing, a churning feeling in his stomach told him differently. Whoever it was hadn’t attacked yet though, so he had no reason to. For all he knew, Whitebeard’s dog could have tailed him, and he was worrying over nothing.

As he went through the entrance ( another Whitebeard flag?) he was greeted by an old man wearing multiple feathers, for whatever reason, on his head. Well, different islands had different cultures, and he supposed that this wouldn’t have been the strangest thing he’d seen on the Grand Line.

The old man talked in a language he didn’t understand, with animated hand gestures that seemed to be friendly. Welcoming, even. At the very least, it didn’t seem to be an island of cannibals. (Sabo suppressed shuddered as he remembered that incident.)

The Revolutionary put on his best (and what he hoped was a) charming smile. The old man nodded his approval, and took him by the forearm, dragging him into the town.

Well, at least Sabo had a guide now. And the man had a surprisingly strong grip for someone so old and frail-looking.

Then again, Koala was a very petite woman, yet she was strong as fuck and  delivered the most powerful (and painful) bitch slaps.

The old man eventually let go of his forearm and went to go talk to the other town's occupants, and Sabo took the chance to sprint the hell out, because if he was late Koala was going to murder him six ways to Sunday.

So panicked was he about the prospect of being late that he didn’t notice the presence approaching behind him.

WHACK!

Teach smirked as his den-den rang. He allowed himself a moment of satisfaction before he picked it up.

“I got him, boss.” The voice sounded unusually thick.

Teach hummed thoughtfully. “Did they get a hit on you?”

The snail frowned, and ‘Doc’ responded with, “Yeah, got a nasty punch to the noggin. Fucker broke it. So I broke his arm.”

“Well, just be more careful next time. You can’t get caught, especially when we’re this close. Got that? I’ll take care of the…situation here.” Teach dropped his voice lower, whispering conspiratorially. “They’re already framing him for Whitebeard’s trip to the infirmary that resulted in his absence on deck yesterday. They hate him now, and he’ll be gone at any time.”

The snail bobbed its head in agreement. “So what do you want me to do with the bastard?”

Teach grinned. “Hand him over to the Marines. We can make good money.

Especially since he’s the brother of Gol D Roger’s kid.”

CRASH!

Ace had just finished his latest assassination attempt, for what seemed to be the fifth time that day. Apparently his worries were for nothing, since the Yonko was back on deck, strong as ever.

The fire-user winced as he crashed through a majority of the ship, passing over the railing as he fell into the dark depths of the sea below.

Cursing, he attempted to right himself, channeling his fire power to the soles of his feet, but to no avail. His mind was too scattered, too fractured, too broken to even focus on saving his own life.

(But it was okay. He’d just reset again, in a different loop. He wouldn’t die.)

Then he was drowning again . Ace tried to hold his breath, and the minutes trickled by. His lungs screamed under the strain, and he began to panic, limbs flailing. He was drowning, and the loop would reset, and he tried to hold his breath but he simply couldn ’ t . The last few precious bubbles of air escaped his mouth.

And he was trapped, againagainagainagain -

He wasn’t free. The familiar feeling of weakness washed over him, not unlike the seastone shackles in the past-

-he was scared. He was very afraid. It was pitch black around him, and he was blinded, and he was weak, and he was sinking . Soon he would be out of reach and die, only to wake up again .

The logia wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted it all to just end already , dammit-

His vision began to go dark. How long was it now? The minutes felt like hours, each second ticking by torturously, agonizingly slow. Maybe the Whitebeard Pirates had given up. Maybe they simply didn’t care anymore.

His body went limp.

And the thought of it hurt. It felt worse than getting tortured by Teach, getting punched by Akainu, getting his limbs pulled out of their sockets one by one as he tried to scream and his throat grew raw, blood pouring from his mouth-

Don’t go there .

The darkness sucked out his will to live, suffocating him, pressuring him, and why couldn’t the suffering just end, whywhywhywhywhywhy -?

He closed his eyes, certain that no one was going to save him. 

Again.

Certain that he would die alone, knowing that he shouldn’t have been born.

Again.

The murky seawater of the New World closed around him, almost as if finalizing his watery grave.

(And he would die. Again.)

I wanna live life fast, I don't know how to slow down

Wanna get high, I don't know how to come down

Help me now, I'm runnin' on empty

And I don't wanna be a memory

Marco wanted to scream at Pops’ stupidity. He was not supposed to be out on deck yet, but the old pirate insisted on making an appearance to show that he was okay.

Pops was not okay. He was quite good at hiding the fact though.

But obviously the stubborn asshole couldn’t control his strength yet, the drugs in his system still affecting him. It was quite obvious, seeing as the fire-brat was sent flying high over the railings, into the water below.

Not to mention that he was sent pretty far away from the ship, not just over the railing. Hell, he was fucking soaring like a bullet through the air. Marco could see the logia trying to light his feet on fire, for some reason, but the sparks sputtered and died out.

He heard the splash, the tell-tale sign of Ace going into the ocean.

The deck was silent for a second, pirates doing their normal duties, unable to comprehend that Ace was a devil fruit user.

A devil fruit user that had just been thrown into the sea.

A devil fruit user that was unable to swim.

Then someone shouted, “Get Namur!” and the crew erupted into chaos and noise.

The fishman heroically jumped over the railing, braving the treacherous waters of the New World to save Ace. Pirates waited with bated breath, although some looked-

-some looked pleased . Happy, even.

A flare of fury spiked within the phoenix, and as Marco looked over at Thatch he noticed that Thatch looked livid, obviously noting the facial expressions of some of the crewmembers. The cook made it as if he was thinking to reprimand them- rather violently- but Marco put a hand on his shoulder. Now was not the time.

Minutes passed, and Marco recalled something he’d read in a medical book before.

One minute and the brain cells begin to die.

Namur surfaced, expression grim, as he carried Ace’s motionless, pale body, no sign of life. His chest wasn’t moving, his face clammy.

Three minutes and there is likely to be serious brain damage.

Thatch cursed, and Bay pushed her way through the crowd of chattering pirates, dropping down next to Ace as she checked for a pulse. She looked up, the only sign of her concern in her eyes.

“How long has it been?”

“I don’t know,” Thatch croaked. “Ten? Eleven?”

Marco’s breath caught in his throat.

Ten minutes and the patient is unlikely to recover .

Bay rammed her hands into Ace’s chest, pressing it rhythmically, series after series of chest compressions.

Minutes passed, and the crew’s low chatter steadily grew louder. Marco noted Pops’ horrified face and couldn’t bring himself to berate the Yonko for what he had done.

Fifteen minutes…and recovery may be impossible .

“Marco, get over here and help me out,” Bay hissed at the other doctor. The blonde pirate sidled up to the other, and pressed his hands to Ace’s chest. He pressed it harder than Bay had.

Two more minutes passed.

After a particularly hard compression, Ace gasped, coughing up water as he curled into a fetal position almost protectively, arms hugging his sides as he choked and retched. Bay rubbed her hand on his back soothingly, although Ace didn’t seem to notice.

“Alright, get back to work people!” Thatch barked, taking on the role of the Fourth Division Commander. “This ain’t a show!”

Slowly, the crowd dispersed, people leaving in small groups of twos and threes, muttering incomprehensible sentences under their breath. Words filled the air like an annoying buzz or hum- and Marco noticed that Ace shook, hands covering his ears, eyes squeezed tight.

Then the fire user got up, running to the side of the ship as he hurled and retched- gods, was that blood ? Bay cursed, realizing that some of Ace’s wounds had reopened.

“Alright, you’re coming with me,” she said, snapping her fingers and doing her best to maintain a glare, attempting to cover the obvious concern shining in her eyes.

And for the first time since he’d been thrown overboard, Ace looked up, and Marco had to hold back a gasp because fuck , he could see in his eyes, he looked shattered and broken and tired, and it was wrong . 

Thatch was not as subtle in hiding his observations, an audible breath escaping from his lips. Marco resisted the urge to step on the cook’s toes.

Pops looked down gravelly. “I’m sorry, my son. I was wrong. I should not have-“

“Don’t call me that,” Ace hissed, his voice raspy as he cut him off. “I am not your son and I never will be. Get that through your thick heads.” 

Thatch stepped forward, eyes soft and pleading, as he opened his mouth. Before he could say a word, Ace silenced him with a scathing glare, shaking his head, all signs of weakness gone.

“Don’t. Just don’t.” And the way Ace said it sounded harsh, but almost like a plea .

The Logia pushed past them, steps quickening as he ran off, presumably to hide in the depths of the ship.

Whitebeard watched with mournful eyes as if someone had just murdered Stefan. He asked softly, “Oh, my children, what have we done wrong?”

No one answered him. 

Am I the only one that's coming' unglued?

Emotions building up, they start to run you

Bottles on the shelf I'm about to run through

Doing everything I wish that I can undo

Ace winced as he hid at the belly of the ship.

He was not proud of hiding. He hated hiding. He also hated the fact that he almost drowned, and he was fucking bleeding out. Damn wounds probably got infected again.

Sighing, he shuddered. Fuck, he hated the sea. Well, he didn’t hate the sea , exactly, but he hated the feeling of weakness that washed over him every time he took a dip in there.

It wasn’t his first time drowning, and he was used to the feeling. It was just unpleasant and brought up…memories that would probably get him locked up in a mental hospital for the rest of his life. That is, if the Whitebeard Pirates somehow found out about it.

They wouldn’t. Ace had made sure of that.

The corners of his lips tugged downwards, and he felt the familiar feeling of tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, a heavy lump in his throat. Ace swallowed, trying to rid himself of both the lump and the sour aftertaste in his mouth he’d gotten from fucking puking off the side of the Moby.

…He had puked in front of everyone, hadn’t he?

How embarrassing. Ace couldn’t bring himself to feel mortified though, instead he just felt tired. He wouldn’t sleep though, he wouldn’t let himself, because he didn’t feel like slipping into the nightmares.

The bad nightmares.

Maybe there were certain pills that could prevent dreams. The Grand Line was unpredictable, after all….

The fire-user smirked bitterly. He hadn’t predicted getting stuck in a time loop for the rest of eternity, and he hadn’t predicted himself going fucking insane during the time-

Ace’s mind briefly wandered to Sabo, and he wondered if his brother was okay. He quickly dismissed the thought though, his brother was strong and could take care of himself perfectly fine.

His heavy eyelids slowly closed, and Ace found himself nodding off. With his energy depleted, he couldn’t bring himself to do- or feel- anything.

The logia’s head jerked up when a familiar pulse of haki crackled around the ship.

Izou frowned at the ship in the distance, rubbing his eyes and blinking them.

…That was the Red Force’s pirate flag. Shanks’ pirate flag.

Shit.

Racing down from the crow’s nest, the okama rang the alarm bell, shouting out warnings about the approaching Yonko. Marco and Thatch were the first on deck, Pops looking at the approaching ship with visible concern in his eyes.

“ Now , of all times?” Thatch bemoaned. “Couldn’t he have picked a better day to visit us?”

Obviously the crew, besides him, or at least Marco, Thatch, and Pops, were still shaken up by Ace’s burst of anger and vulnerability. Dealing with teenagers, especially ones that could change their feelings like a flip of a switch, was seriously aggravating. Not that Izou was mad at Ace or anything; it wasn’t his fault.

Marco watched, annoyed, as Shanks boarded the ship, grinning carefree as he swung a huge jug of sake. Conqueror’s Haki rolled out in waves, resulting in the newer members of the Whitebeard Pirates falling one by one.

Blowing out a breath, he shouted “Oi! Do you mind controlling your haki a bit?” 

Shanks grinned at Marco, tone flippant. “Oops! My bad! Care to join my crew, turkey?”

…Marco was prepared to set the red-haired pirate on fire. Sadly he couldn’t, as he had to show restraint as the first mate and division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates. So instead he replied with an aggravated “Hell, no! My loyalties lie with Pops!” 

“Meh.”

Thatch had to physically restrain Marco from going full phoenix on the Yonko.

“Anyways!” Shanks looked up cheerfully at Whitebeard, fully unaware of the situation that had just transpired. “I came to see a friend-possibly-nephew! You might know him, his name’s Portgas D. Ace!”

Murmurs were heard in the background, and Marco dragged a hand down his face. “Oh, fuck me, yoi. What the actual hell.”

Whitebeard stepped forward, face grim. “Ace is currently…unavailable. You see, he’s kind of hurt. And his wounds may or may not have reopened. And he ah… may be bleeding somewhere right now, and one of our doctors is trying to find him.”

Marco watched, entranced (and slightly concerned) as Shanks’ expressions shifted from happy to confused to mad, then just not mad, to downright murderous .

The air crackled and Shanks’ unscarred eye twitched. 

“ WHAT?!?!?”

Chapter Text

Ace was fucked.

Okay, so first he had some minor- (they were minor ) breakdowns. Then, Sabo proceeded to- okay, he didn’t want to think about the other breakdown. And then , he almost drowned. Again.

Yup. Everything was just peachy .

…Except for the fact that a fucking Yonko was now on the ship, namely Red Haired Shanks and his crew- Ace did recall that he was on good terms the last time they had met…in one of the loops… but whywhywhywhywhywhywhy why were they here ???

Maybe it was a stroke of luck- bad luck. Maybe it was karma from treating his family - the Whitebeard Pirates, like assholes.

Or maybe it was something else entirely. But what other ulterior motive would Shanks have?

So yes, Ace was fucked, but at least he probably wouldn’t be able to sleep for a long time. Probably.

He suddenly felt the unreasonable urge to cackle madly and loudly to, well, absolutely no one.

Damn. That was probably the first sign that he was slowly cracking. He really should feel very concerned that he didn’t care, but oh well. A smile tugged at the edges of his lips, and he grinned, a twisted sort of smile.

Snap out of it, dammit ! Ace pinched himself, returning to the harsh, cruel reality that he was in, which only reminded himself of the current situation. Oh no, Ace thought, mock-horrified. I’m losing my sanity…not that I had any to begin with, anyway.

Wincing, Ace stood up, swaying slightly on his feet as dark spots danced before his eyes. The fact that someone was yelling from the main deck didn’t help either, as his headache only grew worse. Ace dearly hoped that he would not throw up again.

Vaguely, he heard Shanks’ voice yelling, “ WHAT DID YOU DO TO ACE?!?! ” and said person groaned, because of course, as fate would have it, the Yonko was looking for him.

…Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was not on good terms with Shanks. What had he done to piss him off now? Ace closed his eyes, trying to remember , memories from past loops and dead corpses flooding, burning the images into his brain-

-He was in the present, not the past, and he couldn’t remember either.

Fuck.

The chances were, though, that someone would come looking for him, and Ace knew that somehow he would, as always, inevitably be found. There was no escape.

No. Escape.

So Ace chose a different option, they wouldn’t go to him, he would go to them, and whatever pain or torture he would receive…well, he would just take it. Accept it. There was really no point in fighting anymore.

The pyromaniac walked, slowly, like a man to his own execution, the only sound being his heavy breath from the strain of his bloodied wounds. Funnily enough, if he could recall, he had been executed before- in many timelines out of the hundreds.

But at the moment he was fine, as always. He’d dealt with worse.

The searing, burning pain in his back said differently.

Slowly, the commotion grew louder and louder, the pounding in Ace’s head returning full force.

Shanks was positively Pissed. Pissed with a capital P, because it was necessary .

He was no longer the childish, jovial, joking Captain that his crewmates were familiar with; on the contrary, he looked ready to kill .

Because if the Whitebeard Pirates hurt his former captain’s son, there would be hell to pay.

Okay, so maybe Ace hadn’t exactly said that he was the Pirate King’s son. But it was pretty obvious! He used the name “Portgas” for obvious reasons. And anyone close to Gol D Roger knew that the captain’s lover was pregnant. The crew just didn't know if the child had survived or not….

The resemblance was uncanny, anyway. The freckles, stormy grey eyes, the facial structure, the monstrous strength for someone so young. Shanks supposed that being the cabin boy on Roger’s crew made him Ace’s uncle. He didn’t know if Buggy or Rayleigh knew about Ace’s survival though…after that incident on Baterilla, they must have presumed him dead. But surely they must have seen the wanted posters and Ace’s face on the front page of the newspapers- maybe they just didn’t make the connection?

In all honesty, Shanks was ready to fight, and if necessary, kill the pirates before him. That would disrupt the power systems though, but he didn’t really care at the moment. All that mattered now was if Ace was safe or not.

The red-haired Yonko growled, grip tightening on Gryphon. “I’ll give you one more chance, Whitebeard. Where is Ace ?”

The older pirate’s brow furrowed, a hint of impatience bleeding into his tone. “I told you, we don’t know -”

“ Enough with that shit, if Ace is hurt I swear to God- ”

Benn stepped forward, ready to calm his captain, because starting a fucking war with the Whitebeard Pirates was decidedly not smart . Lucky Roo, also sensing the danger, tensed.

On the other side, Marco was ready to fight if need be, but also ready to fall back on Oyaji’s command. He didn’t pretend to understand Whitebeard’s thoughts, even though he was the first mate, and right now he was just confused. Something was amiss. Why would Red-Haired Shanks care so much about Portgas D. Ace, superstar rookie?

Cough .

The tension was so thick that it could be cut with a knife.

Cough .

Frowning, Marco turned his head to see who the fuck was coughing at such an inappropriate time, then almost choked on his saliva.

Standing at a doorway, in all his bloody glory, was one Portgas D. Ace, stitches torn as he breathed heavily, his injuries obviously taking a toll on him. No one else seemed to notice.

Marco stepped forward cautiously, then took another step and another until he reached Oyaji. Shanks didn’t bother to glance at him, keeping his eyes trained on Whitebeard, haki pulsing dangerously in the air.

“…Oyaji.”

Whitebeard’s eyes snapped to Marco. “What is it?”

Marco merely pointed in the direction of Ace, noting how Shanks’ gaze seemed to follow. Whitebeard looked too, cursing under his breath as he quickly turned back to Shanks.

Or where Shanks was supposed to be.

“ACE!”

The Yonko had sheathed his weapon, sprinting towards the fire user. Ace remained in place, stiff, almost unafraid as Shanks approached closer.

And closer.

The Logia tried hard not to flinch, tried to keep his expression apathetic and his terror at bay as the fear swallowed him up, suffocated him -

-So this is how he’d die. Not by Teach’s hand, or Akainu’s, not tortured, or drowned, or by being mobbed by his fellow nakama. No, he’d be killed by Shanks. He’d never thought he’d see the day.

Shanks was in front of him, frowning as he crouched down at eye level. Ace could see the concern directed at him, as if he were some fragile piece of glass or a poor little baby bird with broken wings, unable to fly.

And it made him bristle inside.

“-Ace? Ace!”

Oh, that’s why he looks so concerned…because my eyes are unfocused -I guess. I don’t think that’s normal….Oh yeah, it could also be because of the reopened wound in my back and the fact that I’m fucking bleeding right now. Although, if I bleed out then I suppose that would save me the trouble of getting killed by a Yonko…again .

Whoopee. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, with a field full of flowers. I just love talking sarcastically to myself, in my head. So much fun . Dying is fun. Life is fun, especially when you’re immortal and you get to watch your family die in front of you again and again and again. I just love watching the people I love the most get brutally murdered or backstabbed in front of me. In a cycle, with no escape.

For the second time that day, Ace’s vision started going dark, and this time it wasn’t because of the lack of air. He didn’t notice Shanks place his hand on his shoulder, talking fast about something being…okay? Ha. Unlikely .

Ace’s feet gave out under him, betraying him as he crumpled in a heap to the floor.

I'm by myself
And why won't no one help?
I know this can't be healthy
So I'm looking for a way out

Shanks caught Ace as he fell, cursing as he made a promise to himself to murder Whitebeard and his crew later. He gathered the Logia in his arms, glaring daggers at the surrounding pirates as he walked back to his crewmates.

“I’m… borrowing him,” the Yonko said, daring anyone to challenge him. No one did.

Whitey Bay stepped up, opening her mouth then closing it as she looked to Whitebeard for permission. The man merely raised an eyebrow.

“I’d like to come onboard too- just to treat him. I know the extent of his injuries, and I have a copy of his medical files. I can help. And…” she made eye contact with Marco. “So can Marco.”

“Fine,” Shanks said stiffly. “But just you two, no one else.”

Marco looked surprised, mimicking Bay’s action as he silently looked to Oyaji for permission. When he gave a slight nod in assent, Marco followed Bay and Shanks onto the Red Force’s ship.

He easily matched Shanks’ quick pace as they walked to the infirmary. Marco was not a fool; he knew that the Whitebeard Pirates and the Red Haired Pirates did not have an alliance. He trusted Shanks enough that he wouldn’t stab him or Bay in the back, but he didn’t know about the other members. But right now they had a common goal- saving Ace’s life, although he was still confused about the connection between the fire user and the Yonko.

“Hongo! Get in here!”

A lean man with dirty-blonde hair peeked out from behind a curtain of a nearby bed, left eyebrow raised which drew attention to the scar on his forehead. He stepped out fully, closing the curtains.

“I was already here, Shanks…Oh, shit.”

“Shit is damn right.”

“Put him over there,” Hongo said, pointing at the nearest bed. “And do you mind telling me why you thought it was a good idea to bring the First Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates here, along with one of their allied captains?” The doctor washed his hands, pulling on gloves.

“They came on their own accord! Besides, they’re doctors too, and since they spent some quality time with Ace, they know what the fuck happened to the kid .” Shanks’ tone made it clear that he was still pissed off, which, in Marco’ opinion, he had every right to be.

“…Huh.” Turning his attention to the other two pirates, Hongo said, “Explain everything that happened to Ace while I treat him.”

“Why should we? We don’t know anything about you and your relationship with Ace,” Marco responded.

Shanks cut in. “If I tell you, you guys will have to give us every detail and event that led up to Ace’s current condition.”

Bay and Marco nodded in agreement.

“Well, it was way back then,” Shanks said, “when I met this kid named Luffy back in the East Blue. That was a few years ago, and it’s also where I lost my arm. Luffy wanted to be on my crew so badly that he stabbed himself under his eye to prove that he wasn’t afraid of getting hurt. Long story short, we became friends- really good friends, mind you. He even ate a devil fruit, one that made him stretch like rubber.” Shanks smiled fondly, then continued. “Then this bandit kidnaps Luffy because Luffy was being, well…Luffy. He thought that the bandit dishonored me, and while me and the crew were gone, Luffy jumped at the chance to try to beat him up. Obviously he didn’t succeed, and the bandit somehow got out to sea holding Luffy hostage. I managed to get there in time just as the Lord of the Coast finished eating the bandit and was about to eat Luffy. So I sacrificed my arm, betting on the new era. Unfortunately, we had to leave Dawn Island, later on, but before the crew and I left, I gave him my straw hat. 

“Fast forward a couple years, much to my surprise, Rookie “Firefist” Ace comes barging into the cave that the crew and I were staying at. The kid walks in like nobody’s business, introduces himself rather politely, and thanks us for saving his brother’s life. Now, we were all very confused, but then Lucky Roo had the sense to ask the name of Ace’s brother. When he said Luffy… Well, Luffy was like an honorary crew member for all of us, like a son to me. And by extension, I suppose Ace is like a nephew to me.”

Marco frowned, confused. “If Luffy’s like a son to you, wouldn’t Ace technically also be like a son to you?”

“That’s for Ace to tell you- let’s just say he’s keeping a dangerous secret, and I know it, even if he didn’t tell me. Whitebeard probably knows too, just by looking at him.” Almost in an undertone, Shanks added, “after all, they look very similar.”

“Wait,” Marco interrupted, going over the new information in his head. “I thought Ace only had one brother.”

Shanks raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? Ace does only have one brother- Luffy.” 

“No.” Bay shook her head. “His name’s Sabo. Chief of staff in the Revolutionary Army, you know, Monkey D. Dragon and all?”

“But Sabo’s dead,” Shanks replied. “Ace got a little drunk and…spilled some things. Sabo was blown up by Celestial Dragons when he was ten. That’s all I know.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. We literally saw Sabo a couple of days ago,” The first division commander said. “But maybe…what if Sabo survived from getting blown up by Celestial Dragons? We did see that he had a pretty nasty burn scar on his head.”

“I suppose that would make sense then. The stories match.” Hongo nodded as he spoke. “But now it’s your turn,” he said, stretching his fingers as he seemed to search for a needle. “Now you know why we’re close to Ace, so tell us what happened to him.”

Bay cleared her throat. “A lot happened to him. A couple months back, Ace took a hit for one of our crewmembers, resulting in the unhealed wound on his back.” Bay’s finger twitched. “I stitched him up- but he obviously tore the stitches trying to kill Oyaji. This particular time, he strained himself too much after he got knocked into the water. We don’t know if he has excess water in his lungs or not; he ran away before any of us could treat him.”

Now Shanks looked slightly confused, Hongo’s brow furrowing as he took out some of Ace’s stitches. “Why would he take a hit for that crewmember if he’s trying to kill your captain? That doesn’t sound like something he would do.”

“I don’t know. He won’t open up to us at all.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” murmured Shanks sarcastically.

Hongo cleaned the wound, disinfecting it with alcohol. “ Why , exactly, was your captain careless enough to knock Ace into the sea?”

Marco tensed slightly, Bay frowning. “We can’t tell you.”

Hongo sighed. “Fine. Anything else I should know about?”

“Well, he’s been trying to kill Oyaji- and, well, it’s obviously not going too well for him. He’s been doing it since day one- and every single time he lost.” Bay hesitated, then continued. “He’s also been starving himself, we’ve only found out recently. It was his brother who told us.”

“It’s a miracle that his ribs aren’t broken- I assume his elbow brace is from his… fights with your Captain?” Hongo seemed to have finished replacing Ace stitches, now going on to check the rest of the fire user’s body. “And he is eating enough now, right?”

“Yes, he is. Thatch is making sure of that,” Marco replied.

Hongo nodded, seemingly pleased. “Does anyone know what Ace’s blood type is?”

Marco looked to Bay, who shrugged. “I don’t know. That question was supposed to be after ‘where were you born?’ but Ace walked out on that one. I wasn’t the one who interrogated him, anyway.”

“If I recall correctly, Ace said his blood type was F,” said Marco. “But if you didn’t talk to him, who wrote down the information? All I know is that I brought Ace to the infirmary.”

Hongo sighed. “I guess I’ll just have to take his blood then, just to double-check. He’s lost too much already, it’s a miracle he’s still breathing. Also, I took a chest X-Ray, and there’s nothing to worry about; he’s got no fluid in his airways.”

“Great.” Marco looked at his sandals, and couldn’t help as if feel something was off. Why couldn’t he remember what happened during Ace’s check up? Most of the time his memory was excellent. Brow furrowed, he attempted to remember, as he reached a small spark in his brain that slipped away as soon as he tried to grab it. That was strange, almost as something was blocking his memories….

There was also another issue. Normally, marines wouldn’t let two Yonkos meet at the same point for so long, unless-

- CRASH !

“…Shit.” Marco cursed, because of course they had to be ambushed at the moment. The Red Force listed dangerously to one side- the result of a cannonball. Hongo had to grab Ace to keep him in place.

“Well, this past hour has been delightful , but it seems that we can’t have peace,” Shanks said, hand on the hilt of his sword. “Hey, birdy, I bet that I can take out more Marines than you.”

Marco’s eye twitched.

The doctor, Hongo, looked up. “Go, take on the Marines. I’ve got a patient to save.”

Marco nodded and ran up on deck, Bay at his heels. As they arrived, they recognized the scene around them as a total and utter bloodbath. A Vice Admiral who Marco didn’t remember the name of was fighting against Shanks’ crew, another Vice Admiral foolishly attempting to take on Whitebeard. As Marco watched, a fleet of  marine ships surrounded the two Yonko’s ships.

Marco growled low in his throat- did the marines seriously think that was going to be enough to take them out? They would have probably needed a buster call.

He turned half human-half avian form, running and leaping. An updraft of wind caught on his wide-spread wings, and he easily soared through the air. The First Division Commander landed in the middle of one of the marine ships, smirking slightly when the commanding officer panicked. He easily took down the mast with a single kick.

Shanks battled the Vice Admiral, although it was quite clear that he was toying with him. The Vice Admiral’s attacks grew sloppier and sloppier as he grew more and more aggravated, causing his moves to become clumsy. When it was obvious that he was aiming for Shanks anymore, just trying to destroy , the red-haired Yonko used the flat of his blade to push him into the sea before the Vice Admiral could accidently harm any of his crew members.

Whitey Bay drew her sword, getting into her battle stance as she took on six foolish Marines that chose to rush her. They ended up dead on the deck, blood splattering the wood, throats slashed.

On the other side of the battlefield, Jozu and Vista each took down a warship with a well-placed punch and a flying sword-slash. Whitebeard swatted the Vice Admiral away into the sea as well, having grown bored of his antics.

The remainder of Whitebeard’s Commanders stormed the ships on their side, bringing them down with terrifying ease. Shanks’ crew mirrored their movements, although they used different methods of attacking. Marco couldn’t help but think that Yassop and Izou would be great friends, both having precise, accurate sharpshooting skills.

All in all, the fight was over quickly, the fleet of Marine Warships now obliterated, the Marines decimated. It had been a rather boring fight, the only damage being the explosion on Shanks’ ship, but even that could be quickly patched.

Marco sighed, walking back down to the infirmary. He would let Shanks deal with his problems.

Wish it was, I wish it was, I wish it was a phase
Nothing you can do and there's nothing you can say
Running from the, running from the, running from the pain
I gotta get away

-Minutes Earlier-

Hongo sighed, cursing “ stupid marines ” under his breath. Clearly, he couldn’t have any peace. He just wanted to save Ace’s life.

The doctor used a needle to withdraw blood from Ace’s body, and tested it. Just as Marco had claimed, the logia’s blood type was, in fact, F. That was annoying; blood type F was very rare, and only one person on the ship had that type- Shanks. He didn’t have any spare blood bags that were that type of blood, so he supposed he had to wait for Shanks. Hongo knew that his Captain would be happy to help Luffy’s brother.

Hongo flopped down in a chair next to his patient, and waited for the fight to be over. He itched to join the brawl raging above, but he had a job to do. Besides, if any marines somehow got past his crew’s defenses, no one would be able to defend the helpless patients, except him. 

True to his intuition, a single marine made his way into the room, wielding a sword and yelling shit. Hongo threw a needle at him, and it embedded itself into the Marine’s forehead. The Marine fell to the ground, dead, before he even made it two steps into the infirmary. Hongo knew he would have to clean up the mess later, but, oh well.

The doctor heard someone running down the staircase and looked up to see Shanks burst into the room, almost tripping over the dead marine’s arm. He was presumably shaking after the Marine who had run away.

“Ah,” his captain said. “I see you had fun.”

“Not really,” replied Hongo dryly. “Sit down, will you? I have to take some of your blood. Your blood type is F, and surprise, surprise, I don’t have any more “F” blood bags, and Ace is blood type F. So sit down if you want to save his life.”

Shanks sat down, and Hongo inserted a needle into his vein and connected it to a bag attached to an IV drip, also hooking up another tube that transferred blood to it. He then used another tube to transfer the blood to Ace. Both pirates watched as Shanks’ blood flowed into Ace’s forearm.

The devil fruit user began to stir, as he opened his eyes blearily. “…Wha’ ‘appended?” He croaked out, words slurred.

Shanks grinned. “Ace! You’re awake!”

Said pirate blinked slowly at Shanks. “…I can see tha’.”

The ship shook again, and Ace looked up. Words clearer, he asked “What’s happening upstairs?”

“Oh, just a fight.” The Red Haired Yonko settled himself back in a chair, although his eyes widened when Ace tried to get up.

Hongo pushed Ace back down. “Don’t do that. You’ll strain yourself.”

Ace frowned up at the doctor. “But I want to help.”

“No,” the doctor said firmly. “If you don’t recall, you passed out from blood loss since you reopened the wound on your back during your… expedition to the sea. I don’t know how long you were in there, but I do know what the sea does to devil fruit users. Get some rest, you’ll need it.” His tone left no room for argument, and Ace slumped back down into the blankets of the bed.

Ace had another nightmare. This time, it wasn’t from that timeline, thank the gods, but from one almost as bad.

He had arrived just in time to see Teach sink the blade of the dagger between Thatch’s shoulders. Ace yelled for help, experiencing the familiar feeling of worthlessness and self hatred.

Then he turned to Teach, fists flaming, and socked the bastard in the face. Blackbeard fell to the ground, the devil fruit, splattered with blood, rolling out of his hand and his dagger falling to the floor with a clatter. Ace picked up the weapon, getting ready to kill Teach with the very weapon that he had murdered Thatch with. Teach cowered on the floor, pupils wide and dilated in fear.

Then Marco appeared, pieced everything together, and assumed that Ace was the traitor. Haruta was close behind him, and Marco wordlessly punched Ace in the head, making him fall unconscious.

When the logia user woke up, he was in the brig, arms chained to the wall with crusted blood under his fingernails. Haruta was outside, and when he saw that Ace was awake he ran to get Oyaji.

The old pirate sat before Ace, pain on his face and asking why, why Ace would betray his family . Ace wanted to open his mouth and say that it wasn’t him, he would never , but no one listened to him.

Not Oyaji.

Not Marco.

Not Izou.

Not Haruta.

Not Vista.

Not Jozu.

No one believed him .

Then the torture began, punches and kicks, bullet wounds, and sword slashes.

The world sunk into a blur, a mess of bruises and gaping wounds caused by Ace’s own family . There was a lump in his throat, and tears were pricking at the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill. But what hurt the most were the words, the phrases said to him.

“Traitor.”

“Why? Why would you do this?”

“Thatch is dead because of you.”

“I wish I never met you.”

“I wish you were never born.”

“This is all your fault. ALL YOUR FAULT !”

“Teach left us because of you.”

”You caused this, you caused the deaths.”

“Die.”

“You are not my brother.”

“You are not my friend.”

“I don’t know you.”

“You betrayed us.”

“FUCK YOU!”

“Drop dead. I wish you a painful, miserable death, all alone.”

“Asshole.”

“Bastard.”

“…You are no son of mine.”

Ace wanted to just curl up into a ball and die , he wanted to tell them that he was sorry for being born and a monster like him should have never existed.

But his wish wasn’t granted, and eventually, when everything went black, Ace woke up- again in another loop.

It's not just a show, I need you to know
I'm trying to keep it real, sometimes it's complicated
This battle for gold is killing my soul
It's hard to be yourself when all you feel is jaded

Shanks went to talk to Whitebeard, presumably about Ace’s condition. Marco and Bay had gone with him as well, leaving Hongo alone with his sleeping patient.

Inside the privacy of Whitebeard’s room, Shanks had stared hard at Whitebeard. The Red-Haired Yonko said, “I'm giving you one last chance; don’t mess this up. When Ace wakes up, he will go with you and your crew to the next island over. If he is truly happy, he will stay with you and your crew; if he is not, then he will be handed over and taken under the Red Force’s care.”

Whitebeard, Bay and Marco had agreed to the statement, finding it reasonable. Sure, the Whitebeard Pirates had been excited at the prospect of new siblings, but they didn’t want to hold Ace against his will.

Bay frowned. “But what about the Spade Pirates?”

“Ace will decide what he wants to do,” replied Shanks.

With that, all they had to do was just wait- wait for Ace to wake up.

Sabo awoke to a dark, dingy cell, his arms chained to the wall and a dull pounding at the back of his head. 

“Fuuuuckkkkkk,” he groaned, slamming his head against the stone wall behind him. This only increased his migraine.

Koala’s gonna murder me , he thought. And so will Dragon. The Revolutionaries are not going to like the fact that I’ve been kidnapped and held in some creepy-ass cell. Also…where the fuck am I?

Oh yeah, some weird guy with horrible fashion sense tried to kill me. Then I broke his nose or something….Then I got knocked over the head with… a basket of apples? That’s absolutely wonderful…also explains where the migraine came from.

From the familiar rocking sensation, Sabo could tell that he was on a boat- on the sea- but he didn’t know where he was.

Sabo huffed. Now all he had to do was wait…or maybe he could bust out of here. After all, he was fairly certain that his lock picks hadn’t been taken from him. The Revolutionary stomped on the floor, and the faint metal rattling in his boots told him that his lock picks were, indeed, just as he had left them.

Bending as far as possible, Sabo picked up the lock pick with his mouth and proceeded to grab it with his hand. After checking to make sure no one was around, Sabo fiddled with the lock. Eventually, he heard the familiar, satisfying click , and one cuff fell to the ground with a loud clatter. His other hand free, he was about to use the lockpick on the other cuff when he heard footsteps. Sabo quickly pressed his hand to the lock, hoping that the cell was dark enough so his kidnapper wouldn’t be able to see that his hand was free.

A man with a large, lumpy nose and unshaven face poked his head through the bars of the cell. In Sabo’s personal opinion, his kidnapper looked as if he were on the verge of death, his sickly pale skin somehow shining in the faint light. The Revolutionary decided that he resembled the Grim Reaper- huh, that was strange.

The man then spoke. “Oh, good, you’re up. My name is Doc Q, or better known as ‘Death God’.”

Sabo repressed a snicker. The name was very fitting.

Doc Q abruptly coughed loudly, blood dribbling down his chin as flecks of the red liquid flew onto Sabo’s face. The Revolutionary resisted the overwhelming urge to wipe off the blood and drop kick the man into the ocean.

“Pardon,” Doc Q said lightly. “But the Boss changed his mind and wanted you alive. Enjoy your stay here.”

When Sabo’s kidnapper didn’t receive a response, he took the silence as Sabo’s fear, when in reality Sabo was plotting the different ways he could kill the man.

“I’ll hand you over to the Marines,” Doc Q continued. “On orders, so don’t take any offense. After all, we could fetch a high price for someone related to the Pirate King’s son.”

Sabo’s heart all but stopped in his chest, but he smiled. “That’s ridiculous. Everyone knows that the Pirate King died ages ago. There’s no way that he has a child.”

“Are you sure about that?” Doc Q grinned, a hint of manic light entering his eyes. “Well then, here’s a name that might sound familiar- his name’s Portgas D. Ace.”

Sabo sucked in a breath.

“-And,” Doc Q continued, “he is the Pirate King’s son . So stop playing games, you piece of shit .”

…Sabo knew that he was definitely in trouble now- and he was scared. But no, he wasn’t scared for himself and his safety, he was scared for Ace, because how the fuck had they found out?

Ace awoke- again, not feeling well rested at all . For a heart-stopping moment, he thought he’d reset again, but then he looked over and saw a familiar-unfamiliar face staring at him. Names drifted past in his head, people’s countenances blurring together.

That was another unfortunate effect of time-traveling- he tended to forget where he was and who people were.

The man was saying something- oh right, his name was Harper? No, that wasn’t right…Ace knew that it started with an H….

The man snapped a finger in front of his face, drawing Ace’s attention. The fire user looked at him, slightly confused and disoriented.

When the man saw that he had Ace’s attention, he sighed. “As I was saying ,” he continued, “Now that you’re awake, you’ll be sent back to the Whitebeard Pirates. At the next island over, you’ll decide what you want to do- you can leave them, or stay, or come with us. You also need to figure out what happens to your crew.”

Ace opened his mouth and closed it again, resembling a fish out of water. How the hell had Shanks managed this? (Well, at least he thought that Shanks was responsible.) His current predicament- the decisions he’d have to make- that meant that he could, essentially, do whatever the hell he wanted at the next island. The pyromaniac could only nod his head, and he managed a “thank you.”

Confirming his suspicions, the doctor, Hongo , said, “It’s not me you should thank. It’s Shanks. He somehow convinced their stubborn asses to agree to this.”

Ace mustered a weak grin. “How long until the next island?”

“It’s about a month, give or take,” replied Hongo.

Ace just nodded, mind churning with thoughts. If he remembered correctly, Teach betrayed Thatch around a week before Luffy set sail, or maybe it was halfway through April. Anyways, Thatch’s murder was between those two times. 

“What’s today’s date?” Ace asked.

“Oh, I think it’s the twenty second, February twenty second. Why? That anxious to leave the Whitebeard Pirates already?” Hongo raised an eyebrow jokingly.

Quite the opposite, thought Ace, but he kept his musings to himself. That’s around a month long gap.  But there will most likely be storms that will slow the Moby’s progress, so maybe- maybe, the times will fit.

And Ace dared to hope that maybe , there was the slimmest of chances, that he would possibly be able to save them this time.

After all, he’d experienced the worst possible timelines already- surely there couldn’t be anything worse in store, right?

Hongo smiled, his voice breaking Ace out of his thoughts. “Come on, the rest of the crew is desperate to see you again.”

Ah , Ace thought, slightly relieved. Well now I know that I’m on good terms with them … I think .

The devil fruit user shifted out of bed and followed Hongo to the mess hall where the Red Haired Pirates were gathered. The first to greet him was Yasopp, who grinned and slung an arm over Ace’s shoulder. Lucky Roo waved over Ace, offering him some food laid out on the table. Ace readily agreed; now he could eat as much as he wanted without having to worry about the Whitebeard Pirates. He was definitely going to take advantage of this.

As he ate, crewmembers walked by, giving him their regards. Ace simply said hello, either unable to remember their names or just not recognizing them altogether. Hongo sat next to Ace, keeping a watchful eye on him- especially after someone tried to clap the fire user in the back. 

Eventually, when Ace was almost finished with his food, Benn strolled by and gave his greetings. The first mate of the Red Haired Pirates gave him a reassuring smile and walked away, and Ace didn’t know why . The fact infuriated him slightly, but he made sure to keep his temper in check. After all, he didn’t want to cause conflict with the one pirate crew that seemed to be on his side.

Ace set down his fork, sighing in contentment as he leaned back in his chair, flexing his fingers. He looked up when a shadow fell over him, and his vision was almost entirely obscured with a vivid red.

”Hey, Ace, walk with me?” Shanks looked hopefully at Ace, who nodded.

The two walked towards the starboard side of the ship, away from the Moby Dick and rambunctious crewmembers. Shanks must have told Hongo to stay back, since the doctor hadn’t followed the pair. Ace was more thankful than Shanks could probably imagine; he had needed a way to get away from the noise. 

Facing the water, Shanks handed Ace a white den den mushi. Ace looked at Shanks, confused.

“It’s an untraceable den den,” explained Shanks. “Also, here.” The Yonko handed Ace three small sheets of paper, two with numbers on it.

“These are the numbers for the Red Force and Makino’s bar,” explained Shanks. “So if you ever feel like the Whitebeard Pirates are mistreating you, just give us a call, and we’ll come pick you up.”

Ace tried to manage a thank you , but the words somehow got stuck in his throat along the way. Unable to construct a proper sentence, the fire user hugged Shanks tightly. Shanks smiled, hugging Ace as he patted his shoulder, messing with Ace’s hair slightly.

“Oi!” Ace broke away from the hug, eye twitching. “I’m not a kid!”

“Heh, firefly, you’ll always be a child in our eyes.”

Needless to say, Benn had to deal with the scorched deck of the ship, “firefly” attempting to do Shanks in before anyone else could.

oOoOo

The rest of the day passed by in a blur; Ace was ushered back to the Moby Dick and the Red Haired Pirates departed. Ace clutched the den den and the numbers in his hand, eternally grateful for the gift.

Just a few more weeks , Ace thought. A few more weeks and I’ll be out of here.

A few more weeks before Teach tries to kill Thatch. Save Thatch and get out of their lives. Simple. Easy-peasy.

Feeling drained of all energy, Ace flopped down onto the bed in his borrowed room, unaware that he had accidently left some notes out.

…Very important notes.

Chapter Text

“Wakey wakey~!” Thatch kicked open the door and barged into their resident fire user’s room, flippantly dismissing the rule of “personal space”. Personal space was overrated, anyway. No one really needed it!

In an effort to convince Ace to stop trying to kill Oyaji, Thatch had whipped up some of the most delectable items in the four blues . If this didn’t convince Ace to just join already, Thatch didn’t know what would. Currently, he was precariously balancing six different platters using both his hands and his head, a move that he had done so often that the dishes falling weren’t a danger anymore.

“Ah,” Thatch frowned slightly, spirited mood dimming just slightly as he saw that Ace was still sleeping. For once, there was no scowl or sneer on the youth’s face, he looked almost peaceful . The freckles speckling his cheeks made him appear eternally youthful; dare say Thatch thought he looked almost adorable. Now, if only Thatch could get his hands on a den-den that could take pictures….Then his blackmail would be set for life….

Looking for a place to put down the platters of food, Thatch turned his head side to side. He spotted a sleeping den-den in the corner of Ace’s desk and made a mental note to get lettuce to feed the snails later.

…A desk. Bingo.

Thatch walked over, easily crossing the room in two steps. He cleared away the papers- why did the fire user have papers ?- And set down the dishes. Huh, maybe Ace liked writing or drawing? There were many things that the crew didn’t know about their soon to be youngest brother.

Thatch set the trays down and let out a curse when he knocked over a couple of sheets of paper. Fuck. He knew that Ace really wouldn’t appreciate him messing around with his stuff, but wouldn’t it be better for him to pick it up?

He bent down, picking up the documents, and stacked the papers neatly by the food. His eyes wandered over the words written in a neat scrawl on the first page. The Fourth Division Commander frowned a bit. What was this bit about time travel and looping ? Maybe the kid was into supernatural stuff like this. Well, he wouldn’t judge. He smiled.

Slightly amused, Thatch turned over the paper, but his smile quickly disappeared just as soon as it had appeared. For one, it had the names of some of the commanders listed- including his. He tried to make out the words within circled paragraphs, arrows, and lines. 

“Wha…” Thatch squinted, rubbing his eyes. 

Come Lu’s birthday, he will betray the Whitebeard Pirates. Or maybe somewhere between April and May.

Thatch covered his mouth, legs shaking slightly as he read the next few lines.

Thatch will die. Prevent his death, take the fruit first. Before he can.

If I take it, what will happen? If they finally let me go, it would be all for the better, but I don’t want to

I can’t

Fuck. He will betray them and I will die. WILL THIS WORK? AM I JUST WASTING MY TIME?

I don’t want them to hate me.

It had been written in jagged, scratchy lines, almost desperately , then crossed out. The paper was slightly ripped, possibly from the pressure of Ace’s writing utensil- and was that splotches of blood ?

…Well, fuck.

Thatch gulped and set the papers down with trembling hands, and hightailed the hell out of the room, mind spinning.

Was Ace okay in the head? Did he perhaps have a couple screws loose up there? 

Something didn’t sit right with the chef. He tried to ignore the churning in his stomach, but to no avail. His palms were sweaty, his knees weak.

Ace’s notes spoke of betrayal. Ace’s notes spoke of death- his death.

Ace’s notes spoke of his insecurity around the crew .

Thatch made it to his room and plopped himself down on the bed, the door swinging shut. He couldn’t help but feel as if he had done something horribly wrong- he had quite possibly read his soon to be brother’s most private thoughts, his deepest secrets. And what was the bit about time travel? What was the part that foreshadowed his death?

Surely he could trust his brothers over an essentially complete stranger who had acted like nothing but an asshole to them and his family.

But still. There was the flicker of pain in Ace’s eyes, the way he almost purposefully tried to push away the crew whenever they approached.

And if Ace was right- and Thatch desperately hoped otherwise- who was the traitor? What did the fire user mean by “the fruit”? He felt nauseous, sick to his stomach.

The cook pressed his palms into his eyes, Ace’s messy handwriting embedded, burned into his mind. Thatch knew he would not forget about it anytime soon, and quite possibly never .

Thatch will die.

When Ace woke up, the first thing that hit him was the enticing aroma of different cuisines. He blinked twice, trying to rub the heaviness out of his eyes, his warm bed luring him back to sleep.

Before the Red Haired Pirates had departed earlier, Ace had been looking around in Hongo’s cabinets for a special type of medicine- aphryxion. It was made from a specific type of flower that grew only in the South Blue, which made it very rare and even harder to obtain. But aphryxion had certain qualities, including the fact that it granted the user a blissful, dreamless sleep, which was why it was so sought after. Thankfully, Ace was able to get some after much begging and bribing on his part, so he would be able to have no more nightmares. Finally, some slight reprieve. 

He had learned about the medicine from a past loop- and although he had never actually been able to acquire some before now, he’d heard a firsthand account of someone who had taken aphryxion. The benefits were true to their word.

Ace sighed, forcing himself to get up as he stumbled over to the desk where the food sat. Obviously he had to eat, (Sabo and Shanks had both threatened him), but he seriously didn’t want to accept the food. He could have just done fine with bread and cheese.

His stomach growled viciously, sounding suspiciously like the hungry animals back on Dawn Island…not like Ace remembered what they sounded like. But Ace was still only human, no matter his “immortality”, and he eventually succumbed to the feeling. He gobbled down the food and grudgingly admitted to himself that Thatch had cooked his ass off this time. 

His eyes glanced around the table, and he spotted some misplaced papers that had been moved, perhaps to make room for the food…? A cold chill ran down Ace’s back, and he cursed himself for being so careless. Those were his notes, weren’t they?

Ace prayed, closing his eyes as he resisted the strong, tempting urge to scream. When he opened his eyes again, the papers still sat there innocently.

He tried to look on the bright side. Maybe the person who had brought the food in, presumably Thatch, hadn’t looked at the papers. Or if they did, they would just assume that he was mentally deranged, or maybe even joking, hopefully.

Yeah, right. Ace should really stop lying to himself. Nothing was fine. And now they all probably knew, and oh, joy, they all saw the cracks widening, blood dripping out of the wounds, and all his fears and nightmares were hung up for everyone to see-

His mind was singing the familiar tune of insanity, and Ace began hyperventilating. He couldn’t breathe, the room was too small, suffocating , even, and it was just like he was drowning all over again. The walls closed in on him, crushing him, and his ribs were creaking and his bones were threatening to break under the pressure. Liquid terror was somehow injected in his brain, and suddenly Ace felt very, very, impossibly small. 

In the midst of it all, Ace knew, he felt the overwhelming sensation of something being very, very wrong and out of place. But he didn’t know the cause, there was no cause to be found-

Oh , Ace realized belatedly. I’m having a panic attack. There was a rule…the three three three rule…three times three times three is twenty seven, oh wait, that can’t possibly be right.

What was the rule? Name three objects, name three sounds…

Ace sunk his fingers into his forearms, trying to clear his mind and regulate his breathing.

Three objects. Three sounds. Three body parts. Ground yourself to reality. Nothing is wrong.

I can see Thatch’s food, I can see the bed, I can see the walls- the walls that are not moving. I can hear Pops’ laughter, Marco’s voice, and the crashing of the sea onto the sides of the Moby. I have body parts, too- my hands, my arms, my legs.

Calm.

Ace forced a shaky breath out and loosened his grip on his forearms. His heart still raced like a jackrabbit, but he sewed back the pieces of himself into a singular, unmovable object.

Excellent.

Panic attacks were a fan-fucking-tastic way to start a very long and grueling day. 

I probably should plan my day out , Ace thought. First, attack Pops Whitebeard, annoy the living shit out of the crewmembers. Ooh, I can make this into a game. Five points if someone snaps at you, ten points if it’s a commander, and if the captain gets annoyed, I win the game. The aim is fifty points a day. Although, if I want to set the bar higher, I can go for a hundred. It’s not like I have anything better to do. Bonus points for getting Marco and Thatch to punch me in the face, although it’s unlikely. With what Shanks said, they’re all gonna fucking baby me. 

After lunch, more assassination attempts. Then just sit in my room and do absolutely nothing. Maybe I could try maladaptive daydreaming…if you even force yourself to do it. I don’t know shit about it.

…Damn, I really need a hobby besides dying. I’m good at drawing, but it’s not likely that I will be able to draw anything else other than bloody corpses, Marineford, and deaths. Maybe I can try drawing Luffy’s face? His scar has two stitches and it’s under his left eye…can’t forget the straw hat, either.

With that thought in his mind, Ace went to find a handy weapon.

My friends don't walk, they run

Skinny dip in rabbit holes for fun

Popping, popping balloons with guns

Getting high off helium

Vista was annoyed.

After Ace’s latest assassination attempt, the kid had gone back to his room, but not before flashing an incorrigible smirk at Haruta and Vista. The two had just been near the railing- admittedly intoxicated, but it wasn’t like they had done anything wrong.

Haruta seemed to feel the same as him. “I am so done with this kid,” he growled. “Prancing around, thinking he owns this ship.”

Vista nodded in agreement. 

“It’s time we knocked him off his high horse and put him in his damn place,” Haruta continued, half slurring. “I’m not gonna stand around and take shit from this kid.” Shi’ instead of shit.

“Why the fuck does Pops even want him anyway?” Vista inquired. “He’s nothing special. He probably thinks that he’s something just because an Emperor noticed him, but in reality…” he waved his hand, too drunk to finish his train of thought.

Haruta snorted. “Say, how about we prank him?”

Vista raised an eyebrow, intrigued. 

After Haruta and Vista were less drunk, which happened to be a couple hours later, the two went through with their plan. Vista did feel guilty, but not enough to back out. Maybe it was just because he hadn’t really done any pranks in a long time, especially after that incident with Marco.

Besides, if he did back out, he would receive endless teasing from Haruta for being too “chicken” and a “coward” for not being able to stomach pranking “Fire Fist” Ace. What was the worst the kid could do anyway? Give him a surface burn? That was quite possibly the worst damage he could possibly inflict. The alternative was Haruta…well, he didn’t want to think about it. He’d never be able to live down all the horrifying titles Haruta would be able to place on his back. So no, it wasn’t like he was blackmailed into doing this, per se, no, it was just avoiding potential blackmail. Not like Haruta already had the goods on everyone in the crew.

It wasn’t even that big of a prank anyway. Thatch had already (accidently) pulled one on Ace, even if it was meant for Marco- the incident with the water bucket. 

So it was no big deal- right?

Wrong. He was dead wrong .

o0o

The two Commanders had executed their plan perfectly, wiring a can of red paint that they had found lying around over Ace’s door. The moment the brat would step out, the can’s contents would be emptied over his head. Haruta had insisted on hiding around the corner with a den-den camera. They were in the perfect position to see Ace’s reaction.

“Any minute now,” muttered Haruta. Vista tapped his foot impatiently.

Right on cue, Ace opened the door, rubbing his eyes. Their contraption worked perfectly; as soon as the hinges of the door reached forty five degrees, the can of paint flipped over.

The fire user yelped, leaping backwards, but not fast enough. The paint hit him directly, splattering all over his front, although the majority of it was on his cowboy hat.

Haruta absolutely cackled , snapping a picture of the kid dripping in paint.

Ace blinked, expression of fury replaced by sudden, eerie calm. His mouth was slightly parted, as if he were screaming, but no sound escaped. If it weren’t for the fire-user’s chest, still rising and falling, Vista could have assumed that Ace was some sort of red-painted statue.

Then his breathing steadily grew faster, almost as if he were hyperventilating, but that couldn’t be right- paint couldn’t do that to someone, right? But what bothered him the most was the look in Ace’s eyes- the overwhelming fear , the sheer terror . Haruta didn’t seem to notice, since he placed his hands on his hips and simply said, “Stop being such a big baby, it’s just a bit of red paint.”

“Haruta,” Vista said, stepping closer to the other, “Stop.”

Haruta turned around, frowning. “What do you mean, ‘Stop’? You can’t order me around like one of the people in your Division! He deserves it , Vista! ”

“Look at the kid-” Vista lowered his voice slightly- “he’s hyperventilating . I’m no doctor, but that’s PTSD or some shit right there. We shouldn’t have done this.” Vista exhaled. “It- What we did was wrong .”

Haruta opened his mouth, probably about to deliver some smart retort, but Ace muttered under his breath, “I have to get the blood off.”

“Wha-“ Haruta stared at Ace, confused. “What blood?”

The red paint had already dried and was starting to flake. Ace stared at his hands and scratched himself, scratching hard enough to draw blood .

Ace took a step back, then another and another, until he was sitting against the wall of his room. He had stumbled over his steps and was now just sitting there, arms hugging himself in a pale imitation of a hug.

Before the Commanders’ eyes, Ace grabbed his head, scratching at his scalp, practically tearing out locks of his black hair. His movements grew increasingly erratic as he frantically scratched himself, as if trying to get something out .

“Hey-“ Vista started, stepping forward. Haruta looked slightly concerned, although he was still unsure of what was happening.

A single tear leaked out of Ace’s eye, the droplet rolling down the side of his face. It hit his hand, although the fire user didn’t seem to notice. Ace’s arms went slack, as he slumped down, looking as though all the energy had been drained out of his body.

And Vista knew that it was completely fucked up. The swordsman frowned, approaching the fire user, who didn’t seem to register the other’s presence.

Instead, he seemed to fold in on himself, resting his head in his arms. His eyes were dull and blank as if he had simply… given up.

 Vista placed a hand on Ace’s shoulder. It was meant to be a comforting gesture, for whatever the kid was… experiencing, but instead of relaxing Ace flinched. If possible, he folded in on himself even more, making himself as small as possible.

No, Vista thought, Making himself a smaller target. 

…He thinks I’ll hurt him, doesn’t he?

“Stop it,” Ace murmured, softly. Vista blinked, confused. 

“I’m sorry,” Ace said, barely higher than a whisper. “Please don’t hurt me.”

Vista’s heart twisted and clenched painfully as he heard those words. “Listen, kid, I don’t know what you mean. I’m not gonna hurt you, and neither is Haruta. It was just a prank.” He raised his hands as a placating gesture, trying to show Ace that he wasn’t going to harm him.

There was no response.

“Listen, maybe we should just get Bay down here or something,” Haruta said. Although he tried to act nonchalant, it was clear that he had an ounce of worry to spare for Ace.

“Hey, kid, are you okay?” Vista didn’t touch Ace this time, but remained at a respectful distance, giving Ace his space.

That seemed to snap Ace out of it. The kid looked up, gray orbs widening in confusion. “Wha-“ Ace frowned, blinking. 

Disassociation? Vista thought, before pushing it away.

“I said, hey kid, are you okay?” Vista asked again, repeating his earlier question.

Vista watched with mild concern and slight interest as a variety of emotions flashed through Ace’s face, ranging from confusion, to fear, to anger, back to fear, some unnamed emotion, then settling on anger.

“I’m not a kid,” he said, eyes shadowed by his hat- his hat that was still dripping with paint.

Even though Ace’s eyes were shadowed, Vista could still sense the death glare directed at him and Haruta. However, he couldn’t stop the part of his brain that was thinking,  Fuck . What if that hat had been special to Ace? What if he and Haruta had unknowingly destroyed one of Ace’s most precious items? The top hat he wore wasn’t any special decoration, it was the last thing his father had gifted him before he had been ruthlessly murdered by his so-called “best friend”. How would I feel if someone destroyed my hat?

Ace glared at them, crossing his arms. “Are you two just gonna stand there and keep on staring at me like a pair of fucking creeps?”

“I- huh?!” Vista spluttered, very confused and taken aback. Geez, this kid really could flip his moods like the toss of a coin.

“Let’s just go, Vista,” Haruta sneered. “Obviously, Ace here doesn't want to associate with us Commanders.”

 “Yeah, I don’t,” Ace says. “So you guys can take your damn invitation to this crew and shove it where the sun doesn’t fucking shine.”

Vista blinked. Haruta’s eye twitched, the shorter Commander visibly irritated by the pyromaniac’s smartass comments.

Ace stood up, straightening to his back. Although he was a couple inches shorter than Vista, he still looked… intimidating. The swordsman figured that it was something in the other’s eyes, the slightest tinge of madness there, or maybe it was the slight twitch at the corner of Ace’s lips. Vista got the unpleasant feeling that Ace was trying to suppress a smile- not a ha-ha-very-funny one, but something much darker.

Flipping them the bird, Ace slammed the door shut.

“Wow,” remarked Haruta rather sarcastically. “Temper much?” The commander had regained his unflappable demeanor within a second.

Vista put his head in his hands. He felt sick.

Behind the door, Ace crouched, head between his knees as he slumped downwards.

He was tired. And, as he helpfully noted before, he did not appreciate that little prank of Haruta’s. Ace was almost certain that it had been Haruta’s idea, but there was always a slim chance….

Ace shuddered, recalling the events. Taking his hat off his head, he stared at it mournfully. He wasn’t really seeing the red paint that covered half of his hat though, he was seeing something… different.

It wasn’t paint.

It was blood.

Judging from the smell, Haruta and Vista had used washable paint, thank whatever gods that were still on his side. Sighing, Ace stood up; he’d better get himself cleaned up. He seriously did not want to venture outside, seeing as the puddle of red paint outside of his door served as a minor inconvenience. Peering up at the ceiling, Ace spotted a vent. He hoisted himself upwards and began the slow, tedious process of climbing through the system without making a single noise.

Eventually, he reached a relatively unused bathroom on the second deck, port side. After making sure that it was unoccupied, Ace slipped out of the vent and landed with a rather loud thump on the floor.

Wincing, Ace got up, rubbing his head. After he locked the door, he began scrubbing the paint off his front half and his hat. Soon, he managed to get most of it off, although it left a faint red mark.

Ace groaned. He really needed to get new clothes on the next island…

He crawled back through the vents, arriving in his room and dropping on the floor, although this time with more grace. He got to his feet, blinking blearily at the red paint near the door and some splattered bits on the walls.

…At the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He dragged himself to the bed and plopped down on his back, putting the pillow over his face. He wrapped his arms around the pillow.

He screamed.

When Ace was done screaming, he rolled over, still pressing his face into his pillow, just… existing. He was so done .

Although screaming had released a bit of his stress….

At this point, Ace was pretty positive that he was going to get white hairs before he was forty; it was a miracle that he hadn’t gotten them already.

(Assuming he lived to forty, which had never happened.) Ha-ha. Very funny.

He knew how to lie, but he didn’t know how to cope. But he was getting sick and tired of lying, too. So what did he want?

…He didn’t know anymore. He wanted to save his family, but what did he want for himself?

Questions and no answers.

Ace rolled back over again, staring at the ceiling. Mind reeling and chest heaving, Ace felt himself get lost in the grainy wooden boards, the different patterns and textures,and the lines here and there where they were cut unevenly.

There was a knock on the door and Bay came in, followed by Marco. Startled out of his stupor, Ace shot up as he cursed under his breath. Pasting a glare on his face, Ace scowled at the other two people in the room, attempting to convey the message that their presence was unwelcome. It seemed that someone- Vista, maybe, had reported his little breakdown before to his… caretakers.

…Well, that was absolutely fantastic .

We paint white roses red

Each shade from a different person's head

This dream, dream is a killer

Getting drunk with a blue caterpillar

They were in the infirmary.

Ace, Marco, Bay, Haruta, and Vista all sat in a circle, Ace against his will. It seemed that Haruta shared the same sentiment as he did.

Well , Ace thought sarcastically, that’s one thing we agree on.

“So what, exactly, am I doing here?” Ace asked, acting bored as he played with his thumbs.

Marco shot him a look. “Don’t play stupid with me, Ace,” he said.

“Aw, shucks,” Ace replied, feigning ignorance.

Marco turned to Haruta and Vista. The Phoenix just looked done.

“You played a prank on Ace,” Marco said, “which caused a panic attack.”

Ace opened his mouth to protest, to say that he didn’t have a panic attack, and he was perfectly sane, thank you very much, but before he could speak Marco glared at him. 

“Don’t talk,” the First Division Commander said. “Now, I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I do know one thing for sure, Haruta and Vista both pulled a prank on you, correct?”

Ace simply glared at the other. His words seemed to be failing him spectacularly today.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Marco said. Turning to Haruta and Vista, he asked, “And what, exactly, prompted you to do this?”

“It was just a prank , Marco,” Haruta said. “No big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” Bay reprimanded, “when it causes a panic attack.”

“I-“ Marco looked over at Bay and Ace (Ace avoided looking at the other)  “- we aren’t mad. You didn’t know. We don’t blame you. But we are gathered here because we need to know why the… red paint triggered a panic attack.”

At some point, Ace was acutely aware of everyone’s eyes on him. He just blinked.

“…Ace,” Bay prompted.

“Oh, yeah,” Ace said. “So, the deal here is that it’s none of your business. I did not have a panic attack.” Ace bit his tongue from saying that he had experienced one already, before the prank even occurred. The second one, during the paint incident, had mainly just been flashbacks of rather unpleasant memories that he would have chosen not to relive.

“…Sure,” Marco said skeptically. He looked over at Vista.

“Vista, is there anything you would like to contribute? After all, you were the one who reported this…incident,” Marco said, looking over at the swordsman.

“…He was saying things,” Vista said. “Like he was scared. Really scared. I believe he referred to the red paint as…blood.”

Ace bit the inside of his cheek. Thanks a lot, Vista, he thought. You just made my fucking day .

“I, for one,” Ace said, raising his hand, “Would like to argue that I did not say those things.”

“Put your hand down,” Marco snapped. “This isn’t school. Haruta, you were there. What happened?”

“What Vista said,” Haruta seconded.

Betrayed by my own family-not-family, Ace mused detachedly. Fan-Fucking-Tastic.

“Do you have anything to say about this, Ace?” Bay asked. Ace noted that she was speaking in her soft voice- one that she used to refer to fragile patients, as if she were afraid that he might shatter under yelling or pressure.

Ace twitched. I’m not fragile , he thought.

“Oh, just some PTSD and some shit,” Ace said. The lies came easily, well practiced through years and years. “I especially had a fun time witnessing the murder of my entire family.” At least that bit was true. Ace smiled rather nonchalantly.

The rest of the people in the room looked horrified.

…Whoops. Ace suppressed a giggle. Was he not supposed to say that? Well, they did ask him for the truth.

Ignoring the twinge of pain bubbling in his chest, Ace took some sort of savage pleasure in their mortified expressions.

“Ace…” Bay started, “I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Ace replied, smiling, keeping his expression neutral. It was my fault, after all, not yours , he thought. As the others in the room kept gawking at him, Ace felt his forced smile turn a bit sour. Why did they keep staring at him? He hadn’t said anything wrong…

…Ah, shit. 

“Uh…I mean my dad died before I was born and my mom died after childbirth? Oh, and they murdered every woman and child on the island, Baterilla, because it was rumored that the Pirate King’s son was there! That's besides the point, though….”

Ace paused, cursing himself internally. He’d really made this worse, hadn’t he, if the others’ alarmed faces were anything to go by.

The dead silence in the room was disrupted by Vista, who started with “Ace-”

Act like everything is fine , Ace instructed himself, you are a perfectly stable person who would rather not experience a third panic attack within a single day.

“Yea?” Ace asked.

Marco face palmed, Bay ran a hand over her eyes, and Haruta’s jaw went slack.

“Uhh…I think I’m gonna go,” Ace said, pasting a shit eating grin on his face. He moved towards the door, and no one tried to stop him.

Ace blinked. They really were going to let him go that easily? Fine by him. He opened the door and walked out, unintentionally slamming it. Ace winced, then walked away, brooding in his dark thoughts.

“…So, that went well,” Marco said.

One of Bay’s eye twitched. “I swear ,” she groaned, “That kid has some kind of personality disorder. One moment he’s dropping the most heartbreaking life story known to man, and the next he acts like nothing happened! Then he has the nerve to act like an insufferable-”

Bay paused, looking for a pillow. When she found one, she put her head into it and screamed.

Haruta nodded. “I feel your pain.”

“I have some…duties to attend to,” Vista said, edging towards the door. “My work here is finished.” 

Haruta got up and sprang after Vista, and both of them left the room.

Marco looked at Bay, who was still hiding her face in the pillow. “So,” the First Division Commander started, “What are we going to do now?”

“I don’t even know anymore,” Bay mumbled. “Doesn’t it break your heart?”

Marco blinked.

“An eighteen year old kid- he’s only eighteen, Marco- he shouldn’t have to experience something like this!” Bay buried her face even deeper into the pillow. “He’s so sad, but then he just switches it up to being happy . And he’s real good at it, too, but I’ve been a doctor for many years.”

Bay looked up, staring at Marco. “He’s real good, but he can’t fool me. I know someone who needs care when I see them. And when they try hiding it-” Bay gestured helplessly in the air.

“It breaks your heart,” Marco finished, repeating Bay’s earlier statement. He dragged a hand down his face. “Fuck,” he muttered, talking to himself. “What are we going to do ?”

“I don’t know ,” Bay replied. “For once I’m- I’m stumped ! Befuddled! Flabbergasted! Take your pick.”

“We’ve got to help him somehow ,” Marco said. “We’ve still got until the next island. We’ve got to convince Ace to stay with us.” Marco paused. “We’ll set the ship as slow as possible, we’ve got a plentiful supply of food. Cut the Moby’s speed in half and we’ll reach the next island in May.”

Bay nodded slowly. Marco continued, “If we still haven’t got enough provisions, I could always fly out and get us some more.”

Bay snorted. “You can’t carry a lot by yourself. Maybe send out a backup ship instead.”

Marco rolled his eyes and nodded.

“I’m not a good therapist,” He finally confessed, breaking the awkward silence they had fallen into. “And I may not know how to help Ace, but I do know that I want to. But how are we supposed to help him if he doesn’t tell us anything?! Ugh, this is so frustrating .”

“Tell me about it,” Bay snorted. “I think I need a drink.”

“Of course you would say that,” Marco muttered dryly. Something tugged at the back of his mind, fluttering insistently, but Marco ignored it. 

He looked up, looking at Bay as he opened his mouth to say something. He closed it though as his vision doubled, and Marco got an extremely odd sense of deja vû.

Almost.. no, Marco was certain this had happened before…

He snorted at himself, laughing quietly. As if- it was literally impossible. Sure, he’d gotten this sense before, but it was so damn ridiculous.

Marco pushed the thought away as he accompanied Bay to the kitchens to get a nice, long drink. Maybe it would help clear his mind.

I'm peeling the skin off my face

'Cause I really hate being safe

The normals, they make me afraid

The crazies, they make me feel sane

The days bled into weeks, and before Ace knew it a month had passed. An entire month of faking it, getting his family to hate him, and trying to assassinate his not-father. A month of torture and pain that only seemed to worsen with each passing hour.

And Ace couldn’t wait for it to be over. He was quite sure that half of the commanders- no, at least three quarters of them and the crew were at their rope’s end with him. He had yet to see Teach’s face appear, but-

Ace suppressed that thought, confining it to the back of his mind.

The scars from the fights that came through the years were simply invisible, no one could see them. Although his wounds had healed, his mental scars would never .

Ace shook his head, slightly relaxed in the privacy of “his” room. His hair, matted with blood and greasy, stuck to his face. Ace winced slightly, desiring nothing more at the moment than to go and take a damn shower.

But acting like an asshole would mean refusing hospitality from the Whitebeard Pirates, and sadly “hospitality” meant showers. He couldn’t exactly jump in the sea and call it a day, either, for obvious reasons. Ace supposed he would have to wait until the next rain or until a late hour where the bathrooms weren’t occupied. 

Right on cue, Thatch- no not Thatch, Haruta, opened the door. He wrinkled his nose at Ace, and said, “Please go take a bath. I’ve got your food right here.” The Commander didn’t try to hide his obvious distaste- and even though Ace didn’t smell bad, thanks to his devil fruit, a fine layer of grime covered him from head to toe.

Forcing his mouth into a sneer with perfect, practiced ease, Ace snarled, “Why the fuck should I?”

“Because-” Haruta hesitated, and apparently unable to think of a reason, he said “because we want you to. Look, I’ll even throw in an extra plate of food.”

“Heh. I’ve got a better deal; how about fuck off and don’t come back ?”

“No can do,” replied the Commander with equal sass.

The two glared daggers at each other, when suddenly Thatch came bursting into the room, almost running Haruta over.

“Ace!” he said, “I’ve been meaning to come over!”

Haruta glared at Thatch and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Thatch looked worriedly behind him, and asked, “Haruta’s not giving you a hard time, is he?”

Acting affronted, Ace replied, “And why the hell would you care?” He sneered at the Commander. “It’s not like you and your precious Pops have ever actually done so- you’ve just pretended to. At least Haruta doesn’t sugarcoat the truth.”

Thatch looked at Ace, hurt briefly flashing in his eyes. “Ace,” the cook said slowly, “We do care about you. We want you to become a part of our family.”

Ace scoffed. “Yeah, right.” Getting up, he walked over to the door that had been previously slammed shut and said, “Listen, I appreciate you coming to visit and all, but I genuinely don’t care. Please see yourself out.” Ace yanked open the door and gestured to it, making insulting hand motions as he did so.

“Ace…” Thatch began, but said person didn’t let him finish the sentence.

“Don’t ‘ Ace ’ me,” snapped the fire user. “I know what you people really want and-“ Ace ignored the painful twinge in his chest, “-you’re all just lying to my face. So please, Thatch, just go .”

Thatch finally got up and left. Ace slammed the door shut behind him, but not before Thatch said, “Ace, we aren’t lying. We do want you to join us.”

Ace grit his teeth, grinding them together as he heard Thatch left. It took most of his self restraint to not run after him, screaming that he was sorry, so sorry, and that he wanted to join the crew but he couldn’t , and so much more that he couldn’t quite put into words.

But Ace didn’t.

Thatch walked away.

Ace didn’t . 

He clenched his hands, balling them into a fist, nails piercing the palm of his hand. It drew blood.

I'm nuts, baby, I'm mad

The craziest friend that you've ever had

You think I'm psycho, you think I'm gone

Tell the psychiatrist something is wrong

Ignoring the churning in his stomach, Sabo stared blankly at the spot where Doc Q had just left. Numbly, he forced himself to move, carefully picking the other lock. It fell off with a resounding thud- Sabo was free.

Contemplating his next actions, Sabo figured he could easily break free from the prison. Then he would call the Revolutionary Army (oh gods Dragon and Koala were so going to kill him) and then contact Ace. And afterwards…? Afterwards, he would meet up with the Revolutionaries.

Shifting forwards a bit, Sabo poked his head through the bars of his dingy little cell and scanned the area. He didn’t know his way around the ship- after all, it was uncharted territory, but his Observation Haki could help with that. He did know how to hide his presence and how to stay in the shadows as well, years of practice with the Revolutionaries had come with that.

Breathing through his nose, Sabo bent the bars enough to slip through, darting to a shadowy corner. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears as he listened for any signs of life. When he heard none, he used his Observation Haki.

The ship seemed to be pretty big, and Sabo noted a couple men on the upper decks. Scanning for any possible escape routes, Sabo edged forwards. He could jump over the side of the ship- which would be absolute suicide , or run and pray that there were lifeboats on the edge of the ship. If there weren’t, well, he was screwed. 

Or… A new thought popped into Sabo’s head. He could find the communication rooms and contact Dragon first, letting him know of his situation. He would need to find navigation first though to figure out where they were heading.

But to save all the trouble, he could locate the workshop and obtain the ship’s blueprints. It would just make his life easier- Sabo knew that a ship as big as this would have to have those three rooms.

And afterwards, he could head back to his cell and act like a good little prisoner, pretending he was cuffed and all. His other two methods of escape were liable to end in death or being caught.

Sabo deemed the third option the most reasonable. 

Spreading his field of Observation over most of the ship, Sabo, checked each room one by one, footsteps quiet and presence hidden. Sticking to the shadows, he eventually found the workshop. The problem was- someone was already in there.

Cursing, Sabo slipped into the room. He picked up a saw conveniently laying on the table nearby. It was better for slicing, not stabbing, but it would work.

Sabo had a decent knowledge of human anatomy, understanding where exactly to stab people so they wouldn’t scream -

Stepping forward, Sabo sliced open the man’s throat, easily cutting through his jugular, windpipe, and vocal cords. The man opened his mouth to scream, but it came out as a silent gurgle. Blood dribbled out of his mouth and the light faded out of his eyes.

Sabo had minimized the blood flow to a minimum, but the damage was already done. Thankfully, he had done it clean enough so there were no blood stains around.

“Rest in peace,” Sabo murmured softly as the man breathed his last.

Dragging the man’s body, Sabo checked that the coast was clear before throwing his corpse overboard, saw still embedded in his throat. Watching his body disappear into the waves with barely a ripple, Sabo walked back to the workshop and grabbed the blueprints to the damn ship.

He made his way to navigation, sprinting up a staircase and turning left into a hallway. No one was in there, thankfully, and glancing at the destination- some Whitebeard-Pirate territory. It was called Port Chibaralta Island- oh well, all the better for him.

Sabo made his way to communications, grabbing a poor den den snoozing innocently on the table. It was one that was untraceable- pretty rare, but…

..why did they have twenty of them?

Eh, whatever. They wouldn’t notice. Hopefully.

Sabo walked back to an unoccupied storage room, quietly dialing the number he’d memorized by heart. After a few rings, someone picked up- it sounded like Joanne.

“Hey,” Sabo muttered into the snail. “It’s Sabo.”

“Sabo?!” the other shrieked. “Where the hell have you been?!?!”

Repressing a groan, said person pinched the bridge of his nose with a gloved hand. “I… kind of got caught up in something.”

There was a good twenty seconds of silence from the other end of the line before Joanne spoke again.

“Sabo,” she said dangerously, “you didn’t get kidnapped again, did you?”

“…That was only three times.”

“And that didn’t answer my question.”

“….Okay, so I may or may not have gotten… ah, momentarily held back by a pirate crew and some asshole named Doc Q, but that doesn’t count as a kidnapping.”

“…”

“Also I am most definitely in a safe and secure area and not on the ship.”

“ SABO. ”

The blond gulped nervously. “Okay, I might need help. Theoretically. Hypothetically.”

Joanne let out an exasperated sigh. “I am going to strangle you with my own two hands when you get back. After that you can face the wrath of Dragon and Koala.”

Another awkward pause. Then Joanne cursed heavily, swear word after swear word.

Sabo stared at the snail, confused and slightly concerned.

“Shit,” Joanne groaned. “They already left.”

“Who?” Sabo gripped the receiver. “Who left?”

“Dragon, Koala, Hack, and some other Revolutionaries. You were off the radar for days , Sabo. Did you think they were just going to sit around and wait for you to come back?” Joanne clicked her tongue.

“Where are they now?” 

“They’re heading to your last known location. The Moby Dick. I’m trying to contact them now, but they’re not picking up.”

“Ah, fuck.” Sabo cursed. “Listen, this ship is heading to Port Chibaralta Island. I’ll wait until we reach there, then make a break for it. I don’t know how many days until we reach it, so as soon as we dock I’m going to make a break for it.”

“Alright,” Joanne said. “Good luck. Keep your snail on you.”

Sabo gave a final nod before hanging up.

After making his way back to his lovely little cell, he bent the bars back to their original shape. He was careful not to leave any evidence of his little… excursion around the ship.

Sabo found a loose panel in the floor- how convenient. He hid the blueprints of the ship and the transponder snail in it, then put it back to its former shape.

Settling against the wall, Sabo closed his eyes and groaned. It was going to be a long week.

Over the bend, entirely bonkers

You like me best when I'm off my rocker

Tell you a secret, I'm not alarmed

So what if I'm crazy? The best people are

Thatch sighed as he cut up the vegetables that would be used in that night’s chicken broth. His mind kept wandering back to that note he’d read in Ace’s room.

Although he tried to ignore it, deep down he felt a cold sense of unease in the pit of his stomach. Something wasn’t right about this.

Distracted, Thatch cursed heavily as he cut one of his fingers with the knife. Glaring at the blood on the knife and finger, he sucked the wound. (Marco would not approve.)

“Need some help there, Thatch?!” One of his subordinates called out from the other side of the counter- his name was Aaron.

“No thanks, I got it,” Thatch sighed heavily. 

“It’s not like you to be this careless,” Aaron responded, an underlying hint of concern seeping into his tone. “What’s on your mind? Come on, spill. It’s obvious you’re brooding over something- you always wear your heart on your sleeve after all!”

Thatch smiled a bit. “Am I really that obvious?”

“Yep,” one of the other members in his division replied.

“Ah, shut up.” Thatch snorted, although it was clear he wasn’t really mad. “It’s probably nothing.”

“Eh, okay,” Aaron said, going back to his work. “You should probably go to the infirmary- wouldn’t want your blood to get in the soup.”

Thatch huffed, jutting out his lower lip petulantly. “I’m not that careless.”

“Says the man who wasn’t watching where he was going and fell overboard into an area infested with piranhas.”

“WE DON’T MENTION THAT-”

A few minutes later, Thatch walked to the infirmary to get his wound treated. It didn’t really hurt, but apparently it could get infected and yada yada yada…

His mind wandered back to Ace's notes, and in an attempt to comfort himself, he considered the possibilities of Ace being out of his mind.

(Although he knew that wasn’t the case.) 

A more sinister feeling curled in his gut.

“Captain!” One of the newer recruits, Nathan, had raced down from one of the many lookout posts. Waving his binoculars around haphazardly in one of his hands, he frantically jumped up and down, attempting to get Whitebeard’s attention.

The older pirate looked down, eyes crinkling as he smiled. “It’s just Pops to you, son.”

“Oh, right,” Nathan said, momentarily forgetting the current problem. He dropped his hands down.

“What is it, son?”

“Uhm…” Nathan’ face paled slightly. “I think.. there is something that you should see…”

All the other crew members out on deck had stiffened, distracted from their tasks. Their gaze was directed towards the sky, where the clouds began to darken at an alarming pace. The sky grew darker, as if it were nighttime. But that wasn’t right- it was in the middle of the day .

Someone yelled, “Sound the alarms!”

All hell broke loose as someone pulled the rope which rang the bell mechanism. It was connected to many other bells in the ship, all of them eliciting a jarring, sharp sound simultaneously.

Almost immediately, a couple of the Commanders scrambled out on deck in an easy, practiced formation. Ushering the younger, weaker crewmembers below deck, they stood at attention by Whitebeard’s side. There were pirates on either side of the ship, each gripping a rope as if their life depended on it, which it did. They were ready to boost the turn of the ship at any given moment; Jozu was already at the wheel.

Rain began to steadily pelt down like bullets. Lightning flashed and crackled in the air.

Whitebeard raised a single hand, and everyone froze, ready for the order to be given.

“Hold!” He commanded, authoritative voice booming in the air. Marco stood right next to him. Like his Captain, he noted that something was… different about this storm. It didn’t seem exactly natural … almost artificial.

Squinting in the distance, Whitebeard noticed that there was a ship in the middle of all the chaos. It seemed completely unaffected and unharmed by all the ruckus occurring around it.

But his main focus was the man standing on the ship, a green cloak billowing out behind him. Lightning flashed again, and the man's face was illuminated to reveal a sort of red tribal tattoo on one side of his face. Beside him stood a brunette wearing a pink cap and a fishman wearing a judo outfit. 

Marco’s brow furrowed as he recognized the faces from the newspapers. The other Commanders tensed, ready to fight at any moment. The crew members at the ropes gulped, some gripping the rope so tight that their knuckles turned white.

Unlike some of the others, Whitebeard didn’t panic; on the contrary, he grinned . 

“Now why exactly has the leader of the Revolutionary Army come to visit? Guarararararararara!!!!”

Omake:

“Ace has had some pretty big connections already. First, the Second in Command of the Revolutionary Army who just so happens to be his brother. Then there is Shanks, a YONKO of the sea. A YONKO!” Thatch drunkenly waved his hand. ”And now-“ Thatch slurred a bit “- and now Dragon. The LEADER of the Revolutionary Army. One of the most wanted men in the world! What’s next, the pirate king?”

Namur rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, Thatch.”

Marco snorted. Thatch was way too drunk for his own good. Seriously, although Ace had some insane connections, there was absolutely no way Ace could be connected to the Pirate King. The very notion was completely and utterly ridiculous .

“Goshdiddlyarnit, Thatch,” Izou said. “Time for you to go to bed and shut the hell up.”

The rest of the Commanders roared with laughter, as Thatch angrily puffed out his chest, waving a bottle of booze around.

If only they knew…

Omake (2)

Ace didn’t want this. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve any of their kindness, any of his family’s unrelenting persistence into getting him to join, into integrating him into their family .

So many things had derailed from their place, so many pieces have fallen out of the game. 

Whoopee.

Chapter Text

im writing again *dodges crowd of angry people and rotten tomatoes*
yes yes its been like 4 months but guess what summer break is over, and i finally caught up with all that stupid homework and drama (well, not on the drama,)
BUT I'M WRITING AGINAA IS THE MAIN POINT SO YES NEW CHAP (hopefully) coming out by this month.... (but as soon as possible aahagjahaj)
yea this chap will be deleted since its a note (deleted bu the time i post a new chap)

Chapter Text

Monkey D. Dragon, leader of the notorious Revolutionary Army, was quite possibly one of the most wanted men in the entire world. Although he had been lying low for the past couple of months, little unexplainable incidents had popped up here and there. It was quite clear that he was the mastermind behind these events.

And now the man himself stood in front of Whitebeard. The height difference was almost laughable, but the pirates knew better than to jump to conclusions. The way Dragon carried himself made it clear he was confident in his strength. The two other individuals standing beside him were tiny compared to their Pops’ giant stature, but the experienced Commanders didn’t underestimate them. Neither side showed any signs of weakness, electricity crackling through the air. The tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

Dragon spoke first. “Whitebeard. I’ll ask you this once, and only once- where is my second in command?”

Marco frowned a bit, confused. Whitebeard simply blinked.

“Sabo? He left already. What do you mean?”

Dragon’s mouth tightened into a thin line, expression furrowing. “No. No, he didn’t. He went missing in your territory. We received no calls from him- we were supposed to meet on an island guarded by your flag.”

The woman next to him started forward, angrily crossing her arms. “How do you know his name? You have him somewhere, don’t you?!”

The fish-man placed a hand on her shoulder, silently sending her a warning look, although it was clear that he, too, was upset. The woman bit her lip and stepped back.

“There has seemed to have been a… misunderstanding.” Whitebeard started. “We would not- would never hurt Sabo and, furthermore, we had no knowledge of his absence in our territories. We assumed that he had gotten back to you safely.”

“Bullshit.” Dragon’s voice was sharp and clear, slicing through the air, not unlike the first bolt of lightning. “We have no reason to believe what you say. And besides, one of the last times he heard from him was when he called- from your ship, saying that he would need a week’s break.”

For a moment, Whitebeard was at a loss for words. Izou shot a glance at Oyaji, as if asking him for permission to speak, which he was granted.

But before he could open his mouth, someone else spoke.

“What.”

All eyes were turned to one Portgas D. Ace, who stood by the edge of the railing. Rain cascaded down, but he seemed past caring, gray eyes flicking back and forth between the two sides.

The Commanders got an extreme sense of deja vu- (cough, Shanks, dammit , cough).

Marco put his head in his hands, Thatch sighed, and Whitebeard inhaled. Slowly. Of course, the Commanders’ minds were collectively full of “What the fucking hell” and “shit shit shit shit”.

Ace hadn’t exactly been… friendly , per-se, towards them. Which was an.. extreme understatement. Now how would he react when he found out that one of his brothers were missing ? Surely he would blame Whitebeard and his crew since Sabo went missing on their territory.

The Revolutionaries mainly looked confused, wondering why the hell the infamous “FireFist” Ace would care about the disappearance of one of their members, specifically one that he (probably) had no relation to.

“Why do you care?” The fishman on Dragon’s left side asked, narrowing his eyes.

Ace put a hand on his hip, glaring daggers at the Revolutionaries. “Why the hell I would care?! I’m his brother , you dipshits !”

Silence.

“Ah,” one of the members behind Dragon said. “We’re fucked.”

You are the light
It's not on you, it's in you
Don't you ever in your motherfucking life dim your light for nobody.

Ace was very, extremely, angry. Wait- angry didn’t cut it. ‘ Angry ’ was an understatement , to say the least. Ace was completely and utterly furious. The rational part of his brain told him that it wouldn’t do him any good to go ballistic on the Revolutionaries (first impressions, after all, were rather important) but when his brother was missing , did any of that matter?

FUCK no.

A small, savage area of Ace felt pleasure in taking in the Revolutionaries’ dumbfounded expressions. They looked completely ridiculous.

Mind running in a frenzy , Ace considered the possibilities of Sabo’s disappearance. It wasn’t like his brother… (at least, he thought) to get careless. If he remembered correctly, Sabo had been the smart, reasonable one of the ASL. Obviously he could have changed after his amnesia, maybe becoming a tidbit more reckless, but…

Sabo was strong. Ace knew this as a fact; when he had sparred with the blond on New Year’s, the other had almost managed to get the best of Ace. That was definitely something, after all, Ace didn’t just go through thousands of loops and gain nothing .

Ace scowled, deep in thought. A sudden bolt of panic and guilt struck him.

Hadn’t he told Sabo to look into Teach?

What if, while researching Blackbeard, Sabo had been taken by someone?

…And what if Teach had suspected something was up and sent someone after Sabo? 

That’s unlikely, Ace chided himself, But… it’s improbable, not impossible .

How else would Teach have figured it out? Maybe by listening through den-den mushis, but it would be hard to obtain them out at sea. Plus, we haven’t stopped at an island for months, so there’s a low chance that Teach even has any- unless he picked it up before I came onto Pops Whitebeard’s ship. But still… there’s not really another explanation. 

Dragon’s voice broke Ace out of his thoughts. “We have no reason to believe that you are speaking the truth. Sabo has amnesia, which means-”

“I know damn well what amnesia is! You don’t have to explain shit to me!”

Clenching his fist, Dragon frowned. “Sabo is like a son to me. You don’t have any right to-”

A familiar bubbling sensation rose in Ace- anger. It was one that he knew well.

“ I don’t have any right to what ? You can not be talking, Monkey D. Dragon. Tell me, why in the flying fuck did you leave a son in the East Blue?!”

“...”

“...”

Koala coughed into her hand. “Um, Dragon-”

The Revolutionary paid her no mind- he was too busy staring at Ace in a mixture of disbelief, shock, and hurt.

“Well?” Ace crossed his arms. “The fuck you’ve got to say for yourself?”

Dragon’s expression morphed into a scowl. “ Portgas D Ace . How the hell do you know this?”

It wasn’t a question- it was a demand that Ace tell him where he got this information from, but like hell Ace would tell him the truth, he’d be damned.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Ace replied snarkily, “Maybe ‘cause I’ve been seeing the recent bounty posters, and oh , it just so happens that one ‘Monkey D Luffy’ from the East Blue has the same surname as Monkey D Dragon ? You don’t have to be a fucking idiot to put the pieces together. ‘Monkey D’ isn’t exactly a common surname, either.”

Thank the seas, Dragon bought the excuse. And Ace had fucking sold it, alright.

The Revolutionary scowled. The storm picked up. Belatedly, Ace realized with some sick sense of excitement that it probably wasn’t the smartest idea he’d had to antagonize the fucking leader of the Revolutionary Army.

The fire logia bit back a giggle. Well, shit .

And that was when Whitebeard (thank the fucking SEAS ) butted in.

“I don’t know what you want with my son, Ace,” the older pirate growled, a murderous look flashing in his eyes. “But I suggest you think twice before laying a finger on him.” As if to further prove his point, Whitebeard tightened his grip around his bisento, causing literal cracks to form in the air. The waves slapped dangerously against the sides of both ships, threatening to sink either one at any given moment. And both men- Whitebeard and Dragon- knew they had the power to do so.

“You are a smart man,” Whitebeard continued, “So I dearly hope for your sake that you won’t harm Ace.”

Dragon backed off.

Ace could feel the burning stares of the Revolutionaries and the Whitebeards on him- ( absolutely, fucking brilliant ) but he didn’t really care. What he did care about was Sabo , because fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckFUCK-

“So, about Sabo,” Marco said, redirecting the ‘conversation’ to its original purpose, “You were saying?”

Dragon scowled. “He’s gone missing. The last time we heard from him was on your ship. We were supposed to meet up on an island in your territory but-,” Dragon gestured vaguely around them “- as you can see, things didn’t go as planned. We haven’t heard from him for a week now.”

Whitebeard nodded in assent. “I can assure you, we had nothing to do with his disappearance, although your actions were justified. Sabo is like family to us as well, since he is Ace’s… adopted brother.”

Ace decided that it was probably best to keep his trap shut for now. He managed to do so with major difficulty.

Dragon raised an eyebrow, looking at Ace. “...And, pray tell, why should we believe you? Judging from FireFist’s reaction, Sabo is his brother. But you still could have hurt him, since, after all, I don't believe that Ace has… exactly agreed to join your crew. From what I’ve seen so far, he’s been hostile to both you and us.”

Whitebeard’s expression darkened. “Do you truly believe that we would hurt him like that? Maybe he hasn’t accepted it yet, but we want to be his family. We already have decided that he will join, regardless of his opinion. We’re pirates and we take what we want. Ace will join us, sooner or later. And mark my words.” Whitebeard tightened his grip on his bisento, “No matter how many times he tries to kill me, we will never hurt him back. Besides, he’s a thousand years too young to even be trying anyways.”

Ace wanted to scream or break down in tears at that statement. The common conclusion was jumping overboard.

Can you feel the light inside?
Can you feel that fire? (Can you feel it, can you feel it? Oh)
Oh, fire (Can you feel it, can you feel it? Ooh, oh), fire
Can you feel the light (Inside), inside?

By some unforeseen miracle, in Ace’s opinion, they had established some strange sort of peace and the Revolutionaries had boarded the ship. Whitebeard had managed to calm down Dragon while Izou was talking to the woman- her name was Koala or something.

And now Ace was left alone in his room to stew in his thoughts like a moody teenager.

Alright, so yes, Pops- no NOT POPS - had saved his life. And had potentially prevented a world-ending disaster. But what the damn geezer said just further proved how much more Ace had to go to get the crew to just hate him already.

The pyromaniac wanted to tear his hair out. Why did these people have to be so damn insufferable ? With the exception of Haruta, Vista, and some others, it seemed that everyone else was still trying to recruit him.

Which made no. Sense. Where did he go wrong?

Bemusedly, Ace considered that it could be when he saved Thatch’s life. Or when Sabo-

(Fuck I’m sorry Sabo-)

-Had inadvertently decided to expose him and support the Whitebeard Pirates in their journey to get him to join. What a dick move, Sabo.

Ace buried his face into his hands.Wasn’t he supposed to be the one good at making enemies? Hell, he’d threatened the world government once! But he couldn’t get one thickheaded pirate crew to hate him? How ridiculous was that?

Yea, no, fuck them and fuck this shit . 

Ace spent the next half an hour ruthlessly ripping apart his pillow into shreds until there was nothing left. Even then, he torched the stuffing until there was nothing but the heavy scent of smoke filling the air.

The Whitebeard Pirates were becoming increasingly infuriating .

Okay, I am just a box with the light of thunder in me (Woo)
Gratitude sit under the hubris that's on my sleeve
Mama said I'm mhm, special, I was mhm
Blow shit up at home back in Chromakopia, mhm

Marco loved his family. He really did. It was just sometimes (or most of the time, really) that they made him want to scream and jump into the sea. Take now for instance.

Along with having to deal with the mysterious poisoning of Oyaji, a singular Portgas D Ace who may or may not be suicidal and going insane, Thatch was now acting weird. Then- here’s the cherry on top- Monkey D. fucking Dragon apparently has a son somewhere but decided to pop onto the ship with a bunch of Revolutionaries and accuse them of hurting Ace’s sworn brother. 

If his life wasn’t chaotic enough, the universe certainly decided to send him some more. It must be damned karma from the time he brutally murdered a bunch of slavers, but hey, they took Thatch. And no one takes any of his brothers.

Marco leaned back in his chair, which creaked ominously (adding to the list of things he needed to fix) and he stared at the ceiling. The only form of sweet relief he had was the fact that he’d completed all his paper the night before- and, lest he jinx it, he shouldn’t be getting more anytime soon until next month. He had a bit of free time before the meeting with Oyaji, the other Commanders, the Revolutionaries and Ace, so he supposed he would look into Oyaji’s poisoning a bit.

Assuming that Ace wasn’t the perpetrator, which was quite likely that he wasn’t, there weren’t many others who could enter Pops’ private alcohol room. Seeing as he valued his booze so much, he kept a stash under lock and key (from the nurses). The only people who held the key to his cache were himself, Marco, Thatch and Izou. Pops would have given a key to Bay if she wanted one, but Bay had said she wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation of throwing the “poison for your body that only leads to bad hangovers and even worse decisions” overboard. 

Marco knew that he hadn’t touched the alcohol in any way and Pops choosing to poison himself made no sense. Ace was suicidal, probably, and they didn’t need Pops to go jumping into the sea either. Marco knew his adopted father well, and Pops definitely wouldn’t have tried killing himself via poison. 

So that left just Thatch and Izou. Sure, Thatch had been acting weird, but Marco had known him for over twenty years. There was no fucking way that Thatch would try to kill Pops- they had Ace for that, already (though hopefully that murderous angsty teen phase of his would pass by quickly). 

Due to the process of elimination, only Izou was left. But Marco deemed the very possibility of the cross dresser even thinking about killing their beloved Oyaji as extremely impossible. Their sharp shooter had been with Oyaji ever since Oden.

But if it wasn’t anyone who’d poisoned him, who could it be? They were the only ones who had the key to the room….

Marco pulled out Whitebeard’s substance tests again. Before, Bay had given it to him and explained that he’d been drugged with Xenocype, which was some sort of powder imported and specially produced only in the West Blue. It apparently contained ephedrine, which Pops was strongly allergic to. This explained why he’d been so affected by the drug. Few people knew about Pops’ allergies, them being his doctors and the cooks. No physical copies of it were made.

And it couldn’t be that the perpetrator just so happened to accidentally pick a drug containing something he was strongly allergic to. They would have had to have known that he was allergic to ephedrine, which narrowed down the possibilities by roughly ninety five percent.

Then there were the traces of cyanthia extract found in his bloodstream- a type of poison secreted from some kind of tree. Only produced in a specific season when the conditions were right, it was deadly but not well known. The poison had been only recently discovered a couple years ago on some island (that was similar to Little Garden), as it was still stuck in its prehistoric era. A couple articles were written on it by poison enthusiasts, but otherwise it quickly disappeared into history. The name and general knowledge of it wasn’t really well known and there seemed to be few uses to it, so the discovery of cyanthia had been pretty much thrown to the side.

So , Marco mused, they would have had to get their hands on the key to the alcohol storage. They would have had to know his allergies and somehow have connections with drug dealers in the West Blue. Also about cyanthia, where I can make the assumption that they are a poison enthusiast or know someone who’s a poison enthusiast.

And , Marco’s mouth soured, they would have had to be a traitor .

A knock on the door startled him, and the phoenix quickly dropped the papers. A bit tentatively, he called out, “Who’s there?”

“It’s me, Thatch,” the cook called back, “Pops says that the meeting is starting in five minutes.” Pausing strangely, Thatch continued, voice slightly higher; “Ace is going to be there, whether he likes it or not.”

Marco nodded, relaxing until he realized belatedly that Thatch wasn’t in the room, thus was unable to see him. “Yeah, alright,” he replied, “I’ll be there.”

The shadow that Marco could see through the crack under the door receded, the footsteps of his younger brother appearing hurriedly.

Well , Marco mused as he got up and re-shuffled the papers he’d been looking at, the meeting is soon, after all. Too bad I haven’t made any progress on finding out who fucking dared to poison Oyaji .

Marco calmed his rage by contemplating the glorious and many ways that he could inflict immense pain onto someone.

I don't (I don't), like the (Like the), way that this is lookin' (No)
Mirror got me (Got me), thinkin' about my bookend (I'm done)
I just need this time to myself to figure me out-out
Do I keep the light on or do I gracefully bow out?

Thatch walked away quickly, nerves bubbling beneath the surface of his skin as he approached Ace’s room. What exactly was he supposed to say to someone who, well, wrote notes relating towards the circumstances of his death? There wasn’t really any reasonable way that Thatch could think of- excluding the screaming and throttling part.

Seriously though, what in the name of everything holy did Ace even mean? 

“ Thatch will die. Prevent his death, take the fruit first. Before he can.” Real cryptic, huh? That shit really sat well with him. Thatch huffed- he’d concluded before that Ace was quite possibly drunk when he wrote that.

Besides, Ace foreseeing his death was ridiculous. He wouldn’t kick that bucket that easily- and, besides, what fruit? The only fruit he ever used were in cooking, and he gave those away freely. Thatch had no intention of ever eating a devil fruit, either, because they tasted horrible (according to their resident turkey and Pops), and also because they took away his ability to swim. Not worth it.

Thatch arrived at Ace’s room and decided to knock- as to not repeat the situation where he’d seen that Ace had left out a bunch of notes- which would thus prevent Thatch from spiraling into questioning his life’s choices. 

Knock knock . 

(Who’s there)?

“Ace?” Thatch called. “The meeting’s gonna start. Y’know, the one where we’re discussing Sa-”

The door flew open and Thatch had to step back from the resulting backlash. “-bo,” he finished in a quieter tone.

Ace was smoking slightly- and- did he burn his pillows ? That was an interesting way to manage… well, whatever.

Thatch couldn’t help but think about the notes- what had Ace done with them? Destroy the evidence? Hide them? Chuck them into the sea?

Ace’s pissed- off voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “I’m here, aren’t I?” the fire user snapped, crossing his arms. “So where the hell is the meeting?”

“Uh.” Thatch said- (wow, great reply) “In the mess hall.”

Ace was already off- damn, the kid must have memorized the layout of the ship better than Thatch thought. The cook had to run to catch up with the younger, and then realized belatedly that he didn’t exactly know how to confront him about the notes he’d left lying out. So until he figured that part out, Thatch would just… ignore the situation.

Yes. Brilliant move. Thatch gave himself a hand.

Only then did he notice that Ace was looking at him weirdly out of the corner of his eye. The fourth division commander stopped and cleared his throat awkwardly.

I'm always ready for a war again (a war again)
Go down that road again (that road again)
It's all the same (it's all the same)
I'm always ready to take a life again

Dragon had never claimed to be a good person- and, well, he wasn’t one, anyways, so what was the whole point in lying about it? Yes, it was a dick move to leave Luffy alone in Foosha village, but he would have been in good care of Dad. Besides, growing up with the Revolutionaries would have been way too dangerous- for one, there would be a huge bounty on his head the moment he was discovered, and well Dragon couldn’t have that, could he? 

As one of the most wanted men in the world, Dragon knew that he had influence, as shown with the example of Whitebeard’s crew- heck, they were spooked. Which didn’t add up to him.

Sabo was a well known member of the Revolutionary Army, and he was quite sure that Edward Newgate wouldn’t bother to mess with him. They had no argument with each other, anyway, so it was true that they probably didn’t take Sabo.

But since Sabo had disappeared on Whitebeard’s territory, which left a lot to question. Something was very off and decidedly not right.

So maybe the leader himself didn’t need to search for Sabo, but the boy was like a son to him.

( Like how Luffy should have been to him. Like how he shouldn’t have given him away. Did he take Sabo in because it felt like a second chance that he hadn’t had for Luffy? Did he take Sabo in because Sabo was born on the same island where he’d put Luffy- and sometimes they could just be so, so similar?)

No one hurts the people that he cares for.

Of course, then there was then the problem with ‘Fire fist’ Portgas D Ace- superstar rookie deemed dead after disappearing on Whitebeard’s territory, similar but not similar to Sabo, and who Dragon assumed was the center of it all.

He knew about Luffy. He was Sabo’s brother- well, not by blood, but still his brother. So, Dragon’s mind so helpfully supplied , wouldn’t someone with a vendetta against Ace be out to get the people around him?

Said Logia sat at the end of the table next to Izou- the ‘outsider’ who wasn’t really a part of anything but somehow remained in the center of it all.

Or so Dragon believed.

The idea of fate was ridiculous to him, but it was hard to not believe in it when the enigma of Ace existed. One doesn’t simply waltz in and get tangled in the mess of Whitebeard, the Revolutionaries, and (somehow) have connections to Red Haired ?

Oh, and Garp happened to be his adopted grandfather. 

Ace turned his head, catching Dragon staring, and said Revolutionary looked away. Ivankov was still on the ship for some reason, so Koala was ( his , currently) replacement. Sitting to the left of him, the brunette burned daggers into the back of Marco’s skull, a dangerous aura emitting from her.

Then Whitebeard arrived, sitting at the head of the table. His amber eyes analyzed every movement and when he cleared his throat, there was instant silence.

“We are here to discuss Sabo,” Whitebeard started, “second in command of the Revolutionary Army, brother of Ace-” he gestured to the fire user, “and also someone who has gone missing on our territory. That is, as Dragon claims.”

“We were going to meet at an island under your flag,” Dragon said. “and when Sabo went missing there, the only plausible explanation at the time was that your crew kidnapped him, which would fit in with the timeline since he visited you guys before.”

A scratching sound is heard as Izou- the unofficial secretary- jots the notes down on a sheet of paper. 

“Not many people would dare to mess with someone on my territory,” Whitebeard declares, frowning. “Unless some are- forgive me, idiotic morons.”

Koala butted into the conversation. “So no one knows where Sabo is,” she said, voice calm, but with the slightest undertone of panic, and maybe fear, in her voice. “What about him ?” She jerks her chin at Ace, who stiffens and looks up from his fingernails.

“Uh,” Ace says, smartly, “How the hell would I know? With all due respect of course. He’s my brother, for heaven’s sake, and are you guys seriously implying that I had something to do with his disappearance?!” The Logia’s eyes are practically glowing like embers as he dares for anyone to oppose him- to even claim that ‘ yes, he did ’.

“No,” Whitebeard says placatingly, “Of course not. You wouldn’t ever want something bad to happen to your family, would you?”

Ace flinches slightly- it’s barely noticeable. But the Emperor’s words shut him up for the moment.

The room was silent until Dragon spoke up once more. He stated the obvious; “We need to find Sabo. Our army has a lengthy network and connections, but the Grand Line is a big place.”

“Haruta can help,” Whitebeard said, “he’s the head of that department.” The short commander looks up at them, mouth forming a slight frown, but he nods. “I guess,” he said, although he sounds a bit reluctant, “I’ll tell Drew to start looking.”

It’s at that very moment when Ivankov bursts into the room, making his big entrance. He held a den den mushi in his left hand, and a wired earpiece snaked its way up his other arm as he seemed to be listening to a transmission.

“Dragon,” he said, “Jo’ sent us a message. It’s about Sabo.”

The Okama has now gained the entire room’s attention, and before anyone can react, Ace abruptly stood up and strode over to where the other man stood. The fire user plucked the den den mushi from his hands, liberating it, and plugged the other end of the earpiece into his own ear.

Quickly, his face paled. Ace swallowed, a lump growing in his throat. Frozen still, all sound and meaningless background chatter faded into nothingness. His mind replayed, like a broken record, that one sentence.

“Sabo contacted us. He said, in his own words, ‘some asshole named Doc Q kidnapped him.”

Someone shook Ace’s shoulder, but he didn’t react. He didn’t even realize when someone took the Den Den away, unplugged the earpiece from his ear. Ace was unable to compute when the people around him began to talk, as they all heard the message as well.

Ace stared at the grainy floorboards as if he could get lost in them. He felt dizzy, sick, like something was horribly, horribly wrong. His shoulders slumped, arms falling to his sides.

In a sort of hazy daze, he walked back to his seat, bringing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. His freckles, a gift from his mother, now stood out on his pale, ghostly skin.

It was only until Whitebeard slammed his fist onto the table, almost cracking it, that Ace woke from his stupor. “Enough,” he bellowed. “That’s enough!”

 “So we know that someone named Doc Q got him,” Marco said, slowly. “I ain’t ever heard of him, but…” he trailed off, shrugging. “We can run the databases.”

“The ship is going towards Port Chibaralta Island,” Thatch added. “So, shouldn’t we send a small team of people to intercept the ship?”

Everyone looked at him like he’d grown a third head. “Thatch,” Marco said, “That’s probably one of the best ideas you’ve ever had.”

“Well then,” Thatch said, not quite computing the insult, “Who’s going to go then?”

The room dissolved into chaos once again.

Tell me who's gon' save me from myself
When this life is all I know
Tell me who's gon' save me from this hell
Without you, I'm all alone

A quick overview on Ace:

Insane: Yes. For sure.. Panic attacks , trauma, and depression are at a definite 100%. Explosiveness…? It depends on his mood/if he’s feeling particularly murderous. 

And oh yes, he is constantly in pain, in a depressive state, and always thinking, thinking, thinking, about his constant failures. Occasionally Luffy pops into his head and brightens him up a bit, but never enough to smile.

He hasn’t smiled for years. Because to him, there’s no longer any joy in living. (The only exception was when he found out Sabo was alive).

He wants to save everyone (obviously). And he wants Teach deader than dead . Akainu fits into the category too.

Garp is an interesting case to him, definitely classified as family, but Ace isn’t too sure how he feels about his “beloved grandfather”. He doesn’t want him dead , but he isn’t exactly feeling that “familial love”, especially when Garp keeps beating the living shit out of him.

To Ace, Sabo is like a sorta dream , because he still can’t exactly comprehend that his beloved brother is living. (But Ace never, ever, forgot his face before he blew up, which is pretty impressive considering that was thousands of years ago for him.)

And Luffy is quite literally the light of Ace’s world. He would die to protect him (cough cough cough). 

Ace is smart. Not Vegapunk- type of smart, but seriously smart in the field of tactics and strategy. He can usually predict an enemy’s plan (from his… past experiences..). He’s basically on Sengoku’s or Whitebeard’s level, if not higher .

Yes, Ace is strong. Close to a Yonko’s strength, actually. He just needs to train a bit  more to get on that level. Plus he has a really good grip on haki (stronger than Whitebeard’s, actually, but when you consider the price you pay is looping for thousands of years, it’s not worth it.)

He’s hiding his strength when he fights Whitebeard so it’s not suspicious that a New World Rookie is on par with a Yonko’s strength. Ace is almost copying his first life, but at this point of time he dragged it out way farther and antagonized the crew way more. Hehe. Also most of the (Whitebeard) crew hate him, with the exception of some of the Commanders. The Whitebeard Pirates aren’t exactly… open minded (gee I wonder why).

Omake:

Thatch tugged, chiding Ace for his actions. “You know, you should respect your elders, Ace,” the chef commented. “It’s not very nice to keep trying to kill Pops.”

Ace looked up at Thatch, and, without missing a beat, commented “I am his elder.”

He walked away leaving Thatch stupefied.

Chapter Text

He was in a forest. The one on Dawn island, where the bears and tigers lived, where he used to live with Luffy and Sabo. His palms were pressed to the muddy earth, blood leaking from the numerous wounds littering his body, creating a scarlet path down his arms and to his elbows- it was half dried into the dirt. Rain pelted down from stormy skies, further battering his already bruised and clawed at skin, and in the distance, above his harsh breathing, a crow cawed mournfully.

Luffy was gone. They’d taken him.

The seastone cuffs that chained Ace’s wrists did absolutely nothing to make him feel better about the situation- rather, the contrary. It was a reminder of his failure to protect the ones that he loved most.

Although Ace let out a weak, dry, sob, he had no more tears left to cry. His eyelids were heavy and his body ached, but it was nothing in comparison to the sharp tang in his heart.

Five dead slavers laid in a messy circle around Ace, and the perpetrator had to use all of his strength to unlodge his bloody dagger from one of their skulls. The others had their throats slit or had been strangled by nearby vines from the trees. Dully, Ace hit his raw and chafed wrists against a tree branch in a pitiful attempt to get the cuffs off, but to no avail.