Hey everyone!

As promised, for those who read "Snapshots of Familial Ties", here's the next chapter for Stuck! I am so sorry it took so long, but you know, life happens.

As always, thank you for the reviews, for the favourites and follows. For those who came back to read this chapter after such a long hiatus, thank you! You guys are amazing, but then again, I'm sure you already know that.

This chapter...came out a little differently from what I had planned, but ta-daa. A heads up, however...the next chapter will be the last chapter. On another note, for "Bleeding through the Seams", I've been re-reading my fics and I sort of, maybe, kind of am thinking of re-writing the whole thing. Suddenly the characters are not as in character as I think they should be, and the sequence of events are a little out of order. I did want to re-write this story too, but there are only two chapters (inclusive of this) left and I figured I might as well end it. For the other fic, though, I'm only about halfway through. Let me know what you think?

Anyway, with that, please enjoy this chapter.

Disclaimer; I do not own One Piece or any of its characters.

In the middle of the night
I don't understand what's going on
It's a world gone astray
- In the Middle of the Night, by Within Temptation

Ace let out a gasp. A throbbing ache immediately called for his attention and he let out a muffled groan, quite incapable of deciding just which part of his body hurt the most. Some part of his mind told him that the pain had already been there long before he woke up, that it wasn't due to some new attack or assault. It urged him not to panic, but that was stupid. It was clear as day that something was wrong. He placed a palm against his eyes, his breathing heavy. Just, what in the world was going on?

He wasn't in the room he shared with Marco, that was for sure. His back pressed against something cold, and there was an eerie silence that rang in his ears. Yet, what really sent the alarm bells ringing was the slowly building dread that he was not safe.

A soft ping startled him upright. He tried to see where he was – which he really should have from the beginning, now that he thought of it – when he blinked, and then blinked again. His lips parted in another sharp inhalation. He-he couldn't see!

I can't see, I can't see, I can't see, Ican'tseeIcan't-

Shut up, he screamed at himself. Stop it! His chest rose and fell as his heartbeat galloped beneath his skin. He couldn't see. Was this another side-effect of the cure? Did Marco know? Thatch?! Was he doomed to a lifetime of darkness? His eyes widened at the thought. He'd never see Luffy again. He would never be able to see the seas or the skies, and he hadn't even thought of remembering Marco's sharp features and he loved the man so much and, and he couldn't live a life like that- no, he didn't want-

His thoughts were derailed when a smooth voice trailed into his subconscious mind. Don't panic, Ace. Ace swallowed. That voice… Don't panic, yoi. Calm yourself. No one can hurt you here.

That's right. That's what the commander had said, he realised with startling clarity. Marco had never lied to him, and somehow, though he had known it was already true, coming from the blonde hammered the promises into stone. The fire-user choked in a shaky breath. There was nothing to fear here. Focusing his energy onto the palm of his hand, he summoned a small flicker of flames.

The orange fire licked the surface of his skin. A consoling warmth brushed and soothed the very insides of his hand and with it drained the final tingling of panic that had thrummed through his veins. His shoulders slumped in relief as his grey eyes remained fixed on the source of light. So he could see. Not sure whether he wanted to laugh or cry, Ace just sighed at his foolishness. To think he would be so out of it he thought he'd gone blind when simply there had been no light to guide his way.

But there was the light now. It shone brightly in the palm in his hands. And in the darkness of the room, it might as well have been the Sun.

Ace's gaze darted around the enclosed quarters. He called for his flames to grow brighter even as he struggled to his feet. A thin line of anxiety crawled its way under his skin but he forcefully shoved it down and focused on his fire. The light illuminated the thick metal bars before him and he remembered with startling clarity just who remained imprisoned within that cell.

"You little bastard," he said aloud.

He started when soft chuckle met his ears. "You finally woke up, pirate," a familiar voice he would never forget rasped. Long, spindly fingers came into his line of sight, sending a shiver through his form when they curled around two metal poles. He vaguely noted how dirt clung to the once pristinely clean pirate hunter, how one finger bent crookedly out of shape.

Ace took an unwitting step back. Once again his back met the unforgiving metal of the door, a stern reminder that he had made the decision to come. He was alone.

"C-Clockwork," he choked out. His chest seemed to tighten.

Bright green eyes fixed on him. Like the cold breath of a freshly dug grave, Ace felt a chill run through him. He recognised that raw hunger in those horrible, horrible eyes. It was staring into a black hole.

"You finally came to see me." Clockwork flashed him a sickening smile. "I thought you had become too cowardly. That you ran away."

"S-shut up," Ace whispered. The beginnings of terror began to pulse through him. His breathing quickened.

No, he could do this. He had to do this. For how long must he cower from this bastard? The Whitebeards couldn't protect him forever.

The prisoner only pressed himself further against the poles that separated the two. It was only then that the fire-user noticed the blackened, bubbling skin that marred the pirate hunter's already gruesome face.

Clockwork must have noticed his shock for his lips pulled another ugly smile. "That's your work, you know," he said. "Do you like what you see?"

The teen ignored him. His attention remained fixed on the fresh burnt scars on the man's face. "I hurt you," he breathed.

A grating chuckle. "Of course you did. You had a fine teacher, after all, my little one."

Ace felt a jolt sweep through him. "Don't c-call me that," he hissed, trying to summon what anger he could to face this fiend. Anger was good. It was far better than crippling fear. Already he could feel the two warring against each other, each struggling to be the one to take over his mind even as his heart began to pound. Whichever was winning, he wasn't going to remain calm.

"Why not?" Clockwork responded. "You burnt me. You led to my capture. You led me to them." The word was punctuated with a growl. "Pirates who are at the very top," he spat. "They think of themselves above everyone else, that they can do whatever they want just because they have the strength. Such fools. They sh-"

The flames on Ace's palm flickered before bursting into a raging fire that held tightly to his tense form. "Shut up!" he shouted, feeling a red hot fury bubble beneath his skin. "Shut up! You don't know one thing about them!"

The hunter reeled back, as if shocked at the outburst. He narrowed his forest green eyes. "Have you been taken in by their lies as well, pirate?" he asked in a low voice. "Do you think they care for you? You might want to remember that they kidnapped you and your crew, forced you away from them and tried to recruit you into their ranks. Forcefully."

Ace sucked in a deep breath. "Only because I wanted to kill Whitebeard. T-they treated me well despite all that."

"They allowed their captain to hurt you! They watched as you were hit and thrown about like a ragdoll." Clockwork bared his lips in a sneer. "You were just entertainment, Portgas. They don't care for a rookie like you."

"You don't know anything!" Ace shot back. His fingers clenched into fists. Then, as if he had just been slapped, he added in disbelief, "You hurt me too!"

"Only because it was necessary!"

"Y-you don't get to decide that! You don't know me!"

"And they do?" Clockwork couldn't seem to help a laugh at the thought. "The world doesn't need another Gol D. Roger. It needs balance, where everyone is equal, not some freaks of nature who are so arrogant and full of themselves that they would put themselves above everyone else!"

Ace's blood ran cold. Gol D. Roger. His body began to tremble. Despite himself, he forced his lips to part. "And who will you be? Our d-dictator?" His mind conjured up memories of his capture and treatment at the prisoner's hands. He remembered how he was chained to an operating table, how he was sliced up and hit and cursed at and hurt and how this man enjoyed playing with his mind and- Water filmed his eyelashes. His vision flashed red. "Then what happens?" he demanded. "You'll sit on a golden throne and have everyone answer to you? Become a king?" A tear slid down his cheek.

Like the Goa Kingdom. The nobles. The World Government. The Celestial Dragons. Sabo. "Who are you to decide who lives and who dies? You're no different from those people you claim to hate!"

"You fool!" Clockwork snarled. His eyes turned into moss green. "Those pirates have corrupted you. I should have just killed you while I had the chance."

Ace raised his chin. "You're too late now, aren't you?" he fought back, trying to stop his voice from shaking. "You didn't kill me. Y-you're the one in chains now." He took a step forward.

The pirate hunter glared at him. "That's not enough to keep me down." He glanced at the pirate's feet. He lowered his voice. "That's it, Ace. Come here. Free me from this prison. We'll finish what has to be done, and then I will ensure the Whitebeards suffer for what they have done to us."

Ace stilled. A shadowed look darkened his features, and he felt a sick satisfaction when the other man stiffened. But it went both ways. In the cell with only his flames to illuminate the room, the hunter's form was cast under an orange light that flickered and died every few moments. It made him look both eerie and out of this world, as if he was the very essence of nightmares come to life. If the teen looked carefully, he knew the man had been subjected to some brutal attacks from the Whitebeards.

He didn't know if that piece of knowledge relieved him…or frightened him. That the people he currently resided with were just as capable of hurting another as this man.

"You won't touch them," he found himself saying. He swallowed when a pair of green eyes stared him down. "I won't let you."

Clockwork sneered. "What can you do? Take their hand and let them guide you like little pet dog?" He laughed then, a guttural sound that screeched at his ears. "Look at yourself, Portgas. You're weak. Why would they want a broken doll like you?"

The fire-user shook his head. "They've been k-kind to me," Ace said, his words now barely above a whisper.

"Acts of kindness can be faked, little one. Don't be fooled," the older man soothed. "You can still make the right choice."

Ace felt the tears on his cheeks dry from the heat of his flames. He pressed the palm of his hand against his heart, feeling for the racing beat that pounded against the confines of his chest. "And what would that be?"

Clockwork offered him a warm smile. He reached out a hand that was grimed with dirt and sores. "Free me, little one," he coaxed. "The world is bigger than us. Sacrifices are necessary." He beckoned the teen closer, his green eyes shining with an earnest gleam. "I'm sorry I had to hurt you. It pained me too," he crooned. "It still does. But someone has to do it, and if that must be my part to give, then I must."

The fire-user shifted. "You…"

"Free me. Do what you must."

Ace lifted the hand that had been resting on his chest and slowly reached out to the proffered hand. From his cage, Clockwork nodded at him encouragingly. Three inches, two inches...and one, and with a hiss he set his palm aflame. A screech of pain met his ears and he firmly looked away. He deserved it, he told himself. It didn't matter that that burn must have hurt.

"I warned y-you," he said, his shoulders slumping. "I won't let you hurt them."

Clockwork howled at him as he clutched at the blackened form that had been his hand. "You'll regret this, pirate!" he snarled. "You'll discover that they have no love for you. They'll tear you apart as easily as they will me when the time calls for it!"

Ace shot him a flat look. Suddenly, as if all energy had left him, he allowed his light to dim until he could only see a few inches before him. "Then let us wonder which will be faster," he intoned in a low voice. "Their t-torture, or my suicide."

He turned away and moved towards the door. "I h-hope you die a painful death, Clockwork. But that w-would mean you'd be alive l-longer." He pushed the door open and let it close behind him.

So much more going on, no denying
But I know I'm not standing alone!

Izo let out a breath. His hand, which had already lifted in preparation to knock, stilled as he wondered if this was the right time to start. Thatch had told him earlier on that they would be back a little late to retrieve Ace's things, and he supposed he should feel grateful for that. He had not started trying to get closer to the teen at all. Disappointment at himself ran through him, and he made no attempt to suppress it. He had already been given various opportunities to approach the fire-user, and he did promise Marco that he'd try, but…but he resented the fact that, out of everyone on the ship, the kid was afraid of him.

He resented too that he would force Ace into keeping him company when the latter clearly didn't want to.

The kimono-clad pirate looked at his feet, then to the tray of food in his arms. He exhaled softly again. It didn't matter either way. He had to try. Out of both of them, he should make the first attempts, for he knew their youngest recruit wouldn't want to.

He knew, of course, that Ace felt bad. He noticed the guilty looks, and the way Ace would shoot him looks of regret whenever the kid thought he wasn't looking. He knew the kid would sometimes try to speak to him whenever someone else was near, but the conversation always dissolved into dust whenever he tried to reciprocate. The only way to stop that was to force them into each other's company.

At the very least, he wanted to know just what had frightened the kid of him so much. With that in mind, he knocked on the door and waited with bated breath for a response. Silence answered him. Izo frowned and tried again. Was the kid asleep? It was already past breakfast time and Ace hadn't appeared in the kitchens. He had taken it upon himself to bring the food to the kid but- Concern flitted through him.

When the door once again remained as inanimate as it was a mountain, the commander silently asked for the kid to go easy on him and forced it upon.

"Ace?" he called softly, as he pushed open the door.

The first thing he looked for was the beds. Both of them were empty, he realised with growing panic. He darted in and quickly put down the tray of food on the nearest bedside table. To his surprise, both beds looked slept in, as if-as if, ah. So the kid had missed Marco that much, he thought with a tinge of sadness. He knew the kid shared the room with Marco, and that was probably one of the main reasons the room was so neat, if he disregarded the bean bags that lay haphazardly near the windows.

He felt a breath leave him in relief. The bean bags. Izo walked towards them, his dark eyes fixed on the slumbering teen that lay between them. His head rested on one red bean bag, while his feet were pillowed by orange and blue ones. His hands lay clasped in front of him as he slept on his side, his legs slightly curled. And judging from the absence of one seastone bracelet, it would seem the fire-user had no need for blankets anymore either.

"He built a fort around himself," the commander murmured. If there had been anyone around him, who were awake, at least, he would have had to hide a smile. He supposed his brothers were right after all. The kid was healing nicely. If only they could rid of those horrid bandages already. He was sure he wasn't the only one who detested the sight of them- of what they meant and hid.

Izo lowered himself to his knees. It was unfortunate, but he had to wake the younger pirate. He had medicine to take, and as sweet as he looked sleeping in a 'fort', the wooden flooring did little to heal his injuries.

"Ace," he called. He reached out to shake the kid awake but paused. He'd try that later if the kid turned out to be stubborn. "Ace? Come on. It's time for breakfast."

Silence answered him.

Izo tried again, and sighed when still the kid went on dreaming. There was nothing for it then. He placed manicured fingers on the teen's shoulders, ready to pull back at a moments' notice, and gently shook the kid. "Ace," he said again, his voice slightly raised. Ace didn't even stir.

The commander finally dropped all pretences of calm and tugged the kid into his arms. He pressed a palm against the kid's forehead, cursing himself for not noticing the beads of sweat that fell streaked the younger's features. He inhaled sharply when he felt a heat too hot for any person brush against his fingertips. His fire, he told himself calmly. Ace was naturally warmer than anyone else because of his devil fruit.

He took to his feet and pulled the teen closer to himself. "Doesn't mean he doesn't need the doctors," he muttered to himself as he started for the infirmary.

Damn. And here he thought the kid was at least healing nicely.

I've been walking this road of desire
I've been begging for blood on the wall

Thatch wasn't surprised when someone knocked on the kitchens door. He nodded at his other chefs as they prepared the finishing touches for lunch, all the while refusing to spend anymore thought if he should have added a few more dishes to the meal. Goodness knows how much work that would entail, and that was time he didn't have to spare.

A low voice spoke up from behind him. "You asked for me, yoi?"

The head chef barely flicked his brother a glance. Instead, he began to slice up some loafs into halves, knowing his much-less cultured brothers would just rip into it anyway, and cutting them into smaller pieces would only increase the likelihood of a food fight. He inwardly grimaced. That was not something he would look forward to. Especially not now.

"We received a call this morning," he said as he began to toast the bread. He wiped his hands on his apron. "While you were off scouting the island earlier this morning," he added at the blonde's wary expression.

"And?" the older man prompted.

Thatch gestured at him to sit. He went on when his brother dutifully followed his instructions, probably knowing he wouldn't continue had he refused. "It was from Vista. I thought you'd like to know that we have to be back by evening today. Oyaji requested it himself."

Marco's eyebrow lifted in surprise, before the man tempered his countenance into a stern frown which was, the chef thought to himself, his default expression these days. The blonde remained silent. Instead, his piercing blue eyes drilled into the chef's back until the latter took off his apron and faced him.

Thatch exhaled noisily. "Ace is sick. Izo found him in his room, and he has a very high fever that they are trying to break."

"Maybe it's his devil fruit, yoi," Marco broke in.

The brunette shook his head. "They thought so too. But he wouldn't wake and they put the bracelet on him again. It's not his devil fruit."

The Phoenix sat up straighter. "And why…" He worked his jaw. "Why does Oyaji want us back?"

Not for the first time, the fourth commander cursed his brother's natural desire to care overly much for others. He himself felt a prickling worry over their youngest brother, and he wondered if they should simply turn back, but they had a mission to complete. And Oyaji had said to be back by sundown, and not any earlier than that. Marco, though- his brother cared too much. Maybe it was the workings of his devil fruit, or maybe it was simply in his brother's nature. Thatch sometimes wondered how such a man could still be a pirate and be so ruthless to his enemies, but he supposed that's what he loved most about him too.

"He asked for you," he explained and he couldn't help but look away from those clouded blue eyes. "Delirious, they said. But he kept mentioning your name."

A pregnant pause.

"I see, yoi."

Thatch chanced a glance at his brother, his eyebrows pulled firmly into another frown. "You'll be okay?" he asked.

Marco nodded. "I already am," he said, voice flat. He stood up. "I'll go search the island again."

The chef nodded. "I'll send some of my division members after you."

It was a pity really, that they had to take turns leaving the ship.

I don't care if I'm playing with fire
I'm aware that I'm frozen inside

Ace blinked. Where was he? He looked around him almost lazily, noting with an air of disinterest that he was surrounded by an endless sea of white. If it could even be termed a 'sea', that is. He looked down at his feet, then at himself. He was floating, he realised, and he wasn't injured in the slightest, with there being not a scratch on him.

He supposed that was why he felt little to nothing at all.

Was this death? Was he dead? But he had made it back to his room. He thinks, at least. He had stumbled back, his fire all but extinguished, and had dragged the bean bags to a corner of the room. He had failed, after all. He had walked away. Though no one would know had had turned on his tails and ran like the coward he had sought to prove that he wasn't, he did. The memories clung to him tightly even then, like a shadow he couldn't dim with the power of his fire. After all, the brightest light created the darkest shadows.

And so he couldn't bring himself to touch Marco's bed either. It had called out to him as clearly as he longed for its comforting embrace, but he had denied himself that indulgence.

Why shouldn't he have? He was a grown man with the instincts of a frightened mouse now. Nowhere near the man he had wanted to be, or his brothers had believed him to be.

As if in cue to his deprecating thoughts, the whiteness around him dissipated and he found himself standing in a familiar room, one he recognised with a start from an island in East Blue. Across Dadan's Kingdom was Magra, Luffy and…himself. Ace covered his mouth in shock. He knew this memory. And it was certainly a memory, dating over seven years back when he had…

"It's my fault!"

The older Ace watched as the younger version of himself slapped the palms of his hands against his face, struggling to rein in the tears that he knew he didn't deserve to cry. Not after that. Certainly not after that. He remembered thinking that he was- that he was a horrible brother!

"I knew it doesn't prove that you're strong by fighting on your own!"

But the tears still ran down his cheeks in streams. Just as he had in the past, the teenager watched in silence as his younger self failed to stop from crying while his little brother- the only brother he had left in the world lay unconscious before him. "I'm not good enough!" the younger Ace choked. "I'm not good enough at all!"

Images of the bear towering over Luffy flashed through his mind. Of Luffy almost getting torn to bits, of him receiving a harsh slash to his back as he pleaded for his older brother to help him. A plea he had refused to hear.

"I'm sorry, Luffy! "I'm sorry!"

The pirate wondered at the back of his mind if he could speak to the younger him. But then again, why should he? The past couldn't be changed, and he had needed that incident, despite having almost lost his brother in a moment of spite, to think beyond his grief at Sabo's untimely fate. That incident had been the catalyst and motivation for him to grow into the role of a big brother. He had no other choice. Luffy only had him.

The scene changed.

As if to mock him, Ace knew this one as well. He had only just returned with Dadan from the fire at Grey Terminal. They had barely survived. He watched as Luffy clung to the ten-year-old Ace. Just as it had then, his heart wrenched at the tears that ran down his brother's childish features in streaks.

I didn't mean to make you cry, Luffy. But I didn't mean to push you away either.

"Did you think I was dead?" the smaller Ace asked, his voice almost void of emotion.

Luffy pulled away from him a little, his countenance just a little defensive but did little to mask the pure relief that shone in his eyes. "But-"

Ten-year-old Ace cut him off harshly, "Why are you crying?!" He proceeded to slam a fist against his brother's head. "I'm not dead, fool!" he shouted.

The older Ace wondered at that scene even as Magra urged his younger self to go easy on Luffy. Luffy was only happy that he was alive after all. At that moment, at that precise moment, he supposed he would have hugged Luffy back had he thought about it carefully. He hadn't known how it felt like to think both of his brothers were gone. Luffy loved him so completely, so unconditionally, that had he been given the chance, he would turn back time just to cling back instead of lashing out at his little brother.

But it was really too bad. For he knew how he was like back then. Untrusting. Unable to comprehend that, yes, Luffy and Sabo truly loved him as a brother for no other reason than they did. Everything that he had gone through had to happen for him to be the person he was today.

More memories began to play before him. Sabo and Luffy laughing at him. Playing pirates together. Running from their crazy grandfather together.

Of Sabo getting taken away. And then there were only two of them. But they survived. They had fun. It would be a dishonour on their blonde brother if they failed to live while they were alive, after all.

"Since I'm Luffy's brother, it's my job to go see the captain of the Red-Haired Pirates who helped Luffy in order to thank him!"

…And then forgetting that Sabo wasn't with them anymore.

"I told you, rubber really isn't suited for battle."

"Shut up!"

"What?! Are you trying to say that I'm wrong?! You're just an anchor who's immune to bulletfire!"

"Don't make fun of the Gomu Gomu Fruit! Someday, I'll make you cry! After all, I've thought up a technique more powerful than a pistol!"

Sabo. "Luffy, great work! Your arm stretched a lot further than it did yesterday!"

"Sabo! You're far too soft on Luffy!"

"I really have become strong! Stronger than I was yesterday!"

…

"Sabo was such a kind older brother."

"What's that supposed to mean?! Would you rather I died instead?!"

"I never said that!"

"But that's basically what you meant!"

Ace looked at his hands. His brothers. His family. He gasped. Marco, Thatch, and everyone else. They wanted him to live. Something strange swept through him and all at once he was back in the sea of white again. They wanted him to live…but, but the problem was, this time, he didn't think he wanted to.

You've been playing my mind, through my wishes!
You can feel that we're haunting the truth!

"His fever already broke," Rin informed the waiting pirates outside her infirmary, among them Izo, Vista and one Haruta. "About a few hours ago."

Izo's eyebrow twitched. "And you didn't tell us because?"

Rin flicked him an unimpressed glance. "You were busy," she said flatly. "There are more important things for a commander to do other than sit at his bedside."

The sixteenth commander bristled at her words. Before the he could answer though, Vista interrupted quickly. "That's a little harsh, Rin. You know all of us are worried about Ace."

"Of course you are," the head nurse retorted. "Sticking by his side won't change his condition in any way either." She looked up and threw them each a scathing glare. "Do you know why he's in there in the first place?"

"We would if you'd tell us," Izo snapped.

Rin continued to look distinctly unimpressed. "Fine, so listen up, commanders. Long story short, you know how he was like when he was returned to us from that cursed pirate hunter. He needed help and support, yes, but all of you babied him so much he got used to it. Now that Marco, his one pillar of support, isn't here, he became so stressed he fell ill again." She paused in her tirade, her dark eyes gleaming in fairly suppressed anger. Allowing her words to sink in for a moment, she continued, "It wasn't easy to heal him when we first treated him. And to have him back here, so ill that he became delirious? I may be a doctor, commanders. But even I can't work miracles all the time."

As she spoke, the commanders before her looked away. Izo, though, turned back and threw his sister a hard look. "If anything," he said slowly, "you should say that to Marco, not us."

"Well, he's not here, is he?" the nurse snapped.

Vista and Haruta exchanged a troubled look.

"Then, well," Vista began as he pulled at his moustache uncertainly. "Are we allowed to see him now?" At Rin's glare, he quickly raised his hands in an attempt to placate her. "Well, seeing that you did call us down and just told us his fever had broken…" he trailed off.

Rin rolled her eyes and sighed. "Number one, I didn't call you down. You fools were already waiting out here like a flock of vultures. Number two," - she turned away towards to corridor and began walking off - "you could look less pitiful, you morons. You're pirates, not babysitters. You better not be here when I get back, you hear me?" she threatened over her shoulder.

"I think," Haruta mumbled, "the only reason she likes Ace is cause he's the only one who thinks she's pretty."

Don't know why, can't hold on
Always losing control

There were times in his life where he felt he couldn't go on. That included the day Garp told him of his parentage, when people at the bar unknowingly cursed at his existence, when Sabo was killed, and not forgetting those days which drained at his strength whenever he tried to comprehend the strength of Whitebeard and his crew. Those moments were jarring. It sucked at his energy and willed him to just stop, rest, and maybe just give up. Whatever it was, just stop.

Then there was Luffy. Sabo. At times, his Grandpa. Then his crew. And now, Marco and certain members of his crew.

But this time? Could he really say this was the worst adversity in his life yet? Ace gritted his teeth.

Ace looked towards the small window in the infirmary. His grey eyes were half-closed, and he knew if he looked into his reflection, he'd see nothing but a hollow emptiness that screamed nothing yet everything in the flatness of his features. From his position on his old infirmary bed, he could hear the pretty doctor berating the commanders outside.

Could hear her words as loudly as if she had whispered them straight into his ear.

He rolled over when he registered the slowly dying argument outside. The door opened, announcing his first visitors of the day. He was sure they wouldn't be the last ones.

"Is he asleep?"

"Well, Rin just said his fever broke. She never said anything about him being awake."

Ace closed his eyes.

No. This time, he had to go through it alone.

In the middle of the night
I can't let it out
Someone keep searching and it shatters your life

Like the others, Marco waited his turn to climb up to the deck of the Moby Dick. As always, he gestured at his division members to head up first. He could have flown up had there been an emergency, but there was no emergency. There wasn't.

Once everyone was off the smaller ship, the blonde commander pulled himself up. Some brother of his told him he'd handle the ship below and he thought he nodded in thanks. Maybe he did. Or didn't. He really couldn't remember.

Thatch clapped him on the back. "I have to say, Marco," the chef was saying. The man gave him a crooked grin. "You did pretty well. Thought maybe you might want to be the one to give these back to him." The brunette handed him the bag.

Marco's eyes widened. He looked from the proffered item to his brother. "But, I wasn't the one who found them, yoi."

The fourth commander only laughed, though kindly. "We searched the entire island. It's just luck we found it ahead of you." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Besides, you couldn't have reached them, what's with them being stuck in the middle of the river."

The blonde gave a light huff. "I could have flown. They were stuck on a rock."

"And why, Marco, should we have allowed you to fly so close to water?" Thatch inquired in amusement as dumped the bag on the older man's arms. He steered them towards the infirmary. "Give the others a chance."

Marco scoffed. He shoved at his brother playfully, trying to hide his pleased smile even as he clutched tighter at the bag in his arms. "Whatever you say, yoi."

They had been told earlier in the day that Ace was doing fine. He simply needed rest, and the brief intermission hadn't done much damage to his overall healing process. The commander had to say a weight had lifted off his shoulders. It helped that he did feel better after kicking some marine butt, but he could do with a moment of respite as well.

"Here we are," Thatch sing-songed as they entered the infirmary.

Ace looked up from his perch by the windowsill, his grey eyes immediately fixing on Marco before flicking towards the chef. His cheeks were a little flushed, but it appeared the teen had abandoned any form of blankets for he had thrown them in a heap on the floor. His fingers, which had briefly paused, continued playing with the seastone bracelet hanging off his wrist. Somehow, the blonde caught the feeling that the kid wasn't feeling all that happy that it was there in the first place.

"Ace, yoi," he greeted.

The fire-user blinked at them. "Hey," he answered, his voice soft in comparison to theirs.

Thatch grinned at him. "Guess what we got you?" He pointed at the bag in the Phoenix's arms.

Ace didn't look particularly enthused, but Marco supposed he wouldn't be either if he was in the kid's shoes. Falling ill right after what he had gone through? That was sure to put a dampen on any situation.

The blonde strode forward and held out the bag, silently encouraging the teen to pick it up. Ace shifted his attention to the 'gift', and hesitantly took it with both hands.

"What is it?" he asked.

Thatch wagged his finger at him. "See, the thing about gifts," he began, his eyes twinkling, "is that you open them to find out."

Ace quirked a small smile at that. He unzipped the bag, then promptly froze. "You didn't," he whispered. "Y-you didn't."

"Yes, we did," the brunette cheered. He ruffled the kid's hair.

"We thought you would like them back, yoi," Marco interjected softly. "We didn't know if they held any value to you, but we thought there might be sentiment behind them so…"

Ace pulled out his trademark cowboy hat and then his combat boots. Without further ado, he placed the hat on his head, and when he looked up, a bright smile took up a large part of his features, making him look younger than he actually was.

"Thank you!" The fire-user's fingers remained curled around the edges of the hat. His grey eyes seemed to glow. "Thank you so much. Both of you."

"Well, our respective divisions helped, actually," Thatch laughed, and Marco knew he wasn't the only one who trying to hide the shade of pink on his cheeks. "We couldn't have done it without them."

To their surprise, Ace got off his seat not to put on his shoes, but to throw his arms around the two commanders at once. The brothers shot each other a look but carefully hugged the kid back. When the teen pulled back, they both let go, not wanting to push at the kid's willingness to stay so close to another. They had been away for only a while after all. Too little time for things to change.

Ace took in a deep breath. "You don't understand what this means to me," he went on as he offered them a look of gratitude. "M-my brother. He gave this hat to me, as a parting gift when I left to become a pirate. I was already planning to go back to get it m-myself but I can't believe you would do this for me."

Marco smiled back. He didn't have to look to know the same expression was mirrored on the chef's features. "You're welcome, yoi. We're glad we could do this much for you, at the very least."

Something strange flickered in the teen's features, before he smoothed it with a tender smile. He looked towards his combat boots. "Well. I suppose I can go back to t-training now."

Marco felt a jolt run through him. Both commanders echoed, "Training?"

Ace nodded in affirmation. "Yeap." His fingers returned to the bracelet on his wrist. "Don't w-worry though," he added at what must have been their dumbfounded expressions. "I won't attack Whitebeard this time," he promised.

I've been closing my eyes for too long
Only vengeance will make me feel better
There's no rest till I know that it's done

As promised, Ace didn't launch one attack on Whitebeard. Not that they had thought he would in the first place. To the crew's collective surprise, the teenager had done all he could over the next few weeks to heal and train. He ate when he should, rest when ordered to, and got caught up in Haruta's pranks or Thatch's new recipes. He accompanied Marco on night watches, though to the Phoenix's concern, he seemed to hold back a part of him which he hadn't before his mission with the fourth division.

Despite that, the change was astounding. The teen had more or less assimilated himself as part of the crew. Some had even begun to pester him with questions pertaining to taking up the Whitebeard mark. They asked aloud when he'd imprint it on his skin, and where. For his part, the fire-user had only laughed it off before escaping to another part of the ship.

His stutters had all but disappeared as well. He still said them by accident, and that moment of realisation was often followed by a frown, then a rebuke by any one member who happened to be nearby that he should take it easy. He was still healing. No one would blame him if he stumbled now and down.

However, Marco noticed that each of these remarks only pushed the teen into being harder on himself. He couldn't put a finger on it yet, but he had the distinct impression that Ace was hiding something from them. And it was only growing more apparent in the manner the kid seemed to distance himself from the crew and the commanders.

A strange concept, the Phoenix thought to himself. No one would notice it if they only focused on how the teen so easily fit in. But he flitted from one person to another, and he seemed to put in great effort not to get too close beyond general small talk and indulging in the occasional funny story.

What truly worried the commander, though, was the way the kid threw himself back into training. He practiced with his flames, sparred with anyone who would care to, and more than once he had requested that Marco fight with him. And he had, though only once. Perhaps it was the way the kid seemed so desperate to win, or how he proved to be more challenging than the commander had thought, but he hated thinking of the kid as an enemy.

Or maybe, he's convinced that's the reason he refused to fight with the kid anymore.

"Hey, Marco!"

The blonde lifted his gaze to see Haruta running towards him. "Haruta, yoi."

"Did you hear?" Haruta shouted as he pulled to a stop next to him.

"Hear what?"

The twelfth division commander gave him a conflicted look. "Ace," he said. "He went to see Oyaji."

Somehow, somehow, Marco knew that wasn't a good thing.

You've been playing my mind through my wishes
You can feel that we're haunting the truth

Whitebeard gave him an unreadable look. After a long moment, he sighed and lifted a glass of sake to his lips. "Are you sure about this, child?" he asked after finishing half the glass' contents.

Ace forced himself to hold the captain's gaze. His answer was firm. "Yes."

"There is no need for you to do this alone."

"I have to," the fire-user interrupted. He hesitated. "If…if you'd allow me to…" he trailed off.

The Yonko didn't answer. Instead, he stood up from his seat and stood before the teenager. A giant hand brushed the cowboy hat off his head, only to gently mess with the unruly mess of black hair. It took nearly everything the younger pirate had not to flinch.

And that was progress, he told himself. He no longer wavered before the strongest man in the world.

"Go, if you must," Whitebeard said then. "I do not wish you to go, but I stand behind what I have always said from the beginning." He peered at the teenager in what appeared to be resigned acceptance. "We aren't holding you prisoner here on my home. But you must never forget, Ace," – he leaned forward – "that this will always be your home too, if you wish for it."

Ace had to swallow the lump in his throat. "I-I know," he mumbled. He looked away. "Thank you. For everything."

As he turned to leave, the fire-user couldn't help but add to this man who had accepted him for no other reason than he could: "I…I'm sorry for everything too."

The answer was quiet. "Go, child. Be free."

In the middle of the night
I can't let it out
Someone keeps searching and shatters your life!

"What?" Marco demanded. "What the hell are you talking about, yoi?"

Ace refused to look at the shocked blonde across the room from him. Instead, he began the quick process of packing what little he had. True, he had come aboard with only the cloth on his back and a huge temper to boot, but this time, he was leaving with precious gifts that members of the Whitebeard crew had given over time. He was even keeping the seastone bracelet. He wasn't sure why, but he didn't want to let it go just yet.

"Ace!" The shout was followed by an arm gripping at his hand tightly. He refused to flinch, but he knew it came through, but it did little to soften the bewildered man opposite him.

"What," the blonde hissed slowly, "do you think you are doing?"

The teen sucked in a deep breath. "I'm leaving, Marco," he answered tonelessly. "I just told you. Now let me go."

Marco ignored his request and instead bore a piercing gaze into the younger's features, who firmly refused to make eye contact. "Look at me, yoi," he ordered.

Ace shot back, "I'm not yours to command."

The Phoenix shook the pirate in barely restrained frustration. "I don't understand," he said. "Why are you leaving? You're still injured, and you want to sail off, alone, in the New World, yoi, and then what?"

The freckled pirate forcefully shoved down any part of him which wanted to listen to the other man, to sit down and talk it over. He knew, if he did, he'd never leave. He had decided weeks ago that he had to leave. He couldn't stay with them anymore. Or he'd never be free. As much as the prospect of traveling on his own scared him, maybe this was just what he needed.

"I used you," Ace said a moment later. He finally turned to look the commander in the eye. "I knew I couldn't go off the way I was, so I-I used you. All of you. To train, to get better so I could go."

Something in the teen shattered at the hurt that flashed across the older's face. It disappeared not a second too soon and the commander shot him an unimpressed glare.

"You have to try better than that, Ace, if you want us to feel good that you're leaving," he said flatly. "Now, are you going to tell me why you're doing this, yoi, or will you leave like this? Fully knowing we'd wonder every damned day just what we did to drive you away?"

Ace gaped at him. He shoved the grip on his arm off and then took a few trembling steps back to put in more distance between them. "T-that was, that was a low blow."

The commander's countenance didn't change. "I could say the same about you just tried to do, yoi."

Something pricked at ex-captain's eyes. His lower lip trembled and it took so much to keep from assuring this man he had already considered as close a brother as Sabo and Luffy that he wouldn't leave- that he didn't want to leave. He moved as if to reach for the blonde, but stopped, and his arms fell limp to his sides. "You don't understand," he whispered. "I have to go."

The sound of sandals against wood clacked through the room and suddenly the older man was standing right before him once again.

"Then tell me why, yoi. At the very least, surely you can do that much."

Ace closed his eyes. He heaved in a deep breath, as if trying to summon what fortitude he had to explain. "I've been afraid too long, Marco," he said in answer. "You know what they say. If you're afraid of something, confront it, face it, overcome it. Then you won't have to be a-afraid anymore."

Marco's features turned quizzical. "I don't understand. What has this to do with you gallivanting off on your own, yoi?"

The teen hesitated. "I-I won't be alone."

"What do you mean?"

This time, it was Ace who reached out to grab at the other's shoulders, as if by doing so, he would keep the man grounded. There was nothing for it, he admitted in resignation. He didn't know why he thought he could hide it, but he had wanted to spare his…brother from knowing for as long as possible. "I won't be alone," he said quietly.

There was a pause. "You'll be…taking your old crew with you?"

Ace resisted the urge to turn away. He looked into piercing blue orbs and said, "No. I'll be taking Clockwork with me."

Said blue eyes widened and Marco wrenched the Ace's hands from his rigid form. "What, yoi? What are you talking about? Are you mad?"

"I'm not mad. I know what I'm doing, if you'd only listen-"

"What's there to listen to, yoi? You mean to say that you're going to sail off with that piece of trash, without anyone with you?"

The freckled teen shook his head at the unbridled horror that screamed at him in his brother's eyes. "No, no, Marco," he pleaded. "That's not it."

"Then what is it?!" Marco shouted. "Did you ever think that people would worry about you? That I would worry, yoi? Or maybe that doesn't matter to you!"

Ace recoiled at the accusation. He tried to be angry but, he couldn't. Not right now, and not at this person. "I need to confront my fears. And I'm afraid of him, don't you see?"

The blonde ran a hand through his hair and tugged at it harshly. "So do it here," he said under his breath. His gaze turned imploring. "You don't have to go off alone."

"But that's exactly why I have to go, Marco," the younger pirate said. "Even if I do it here, I'd never do it on my own. I wouldn't f-fully be facing him because…all of you are here. With me."

Marco looked at him almost desperately. "Is that a bad thing, yoi?"

Ace nodded. Something salty filmed his eyelashes and he blinked rapidly. "Remember that day you came back with my hat?" At the nod of affirmation, he continued with a pained smile. "I didn't get sick because you weren't there. Maybe partly. But…I visited Clockwork that night." The admission had the other's eyes widening, but the man remained silent, and so Ace continued, "I know I can do this. Don't you trust me?"

"What about navigators? And food? You can't run a ship on your own, yoi," the blonde argued. "We're in the New World. You would be easy prey."

The fire-user smiled at him softly then. "That's why…" He gently pushed the commander back as he turned around. "I have this."

Marco inhaled sharply at the view. On Ace's back was a large tattoo of Whitebeard's mark.

It will never be in vain

That's all for this chapter. Please let me know what you think?