I have no excuse. Except, well, after writing that crack fic with Whitebeard, i kinda found myself enjoying that? And i wanna do more of the father-perspective exploration thing. Also i've had this scenario for such a long time, even during the time i wrote this fic, but never found the right moment to inject it to. So, this.

There will be two parts of this, first one WB's and the next Roger's. Till then, I'm keeping it the entire fic tagged as 'Completed' since the main story itself was done, this is just the supplementary material, i guess you could say.

Growing up in poverty, there was little that Edward know what he wanted to do now that he had managed to amass so much wealth.

It felt like such a miracle when the little start-up company he created would see such level of development, and before long, suddenly he was the owner of one of the industry's leading businesses, with thousands of employees under his command and his name being uttered with reverence in any business conference he was invited to. It was the result of hard work and perseverance that let him attain this level of success, Edward would tell anyone who listened, and to see him reach this level of success was a dream come true.

At least, it was the sort of lip service he was expected to say and people wanted to hear. A rag to riches inspirational story, from a poor orphaned boy to a business mogul.

But as far as Edward was concerned, he never managed to realize his true dream.

With wealth comes connection, and through connection comes women practically falling all over his feet. He indulged as much as a healthy, wealthy man would, never quite forming a deep enough relationship with anyone and would later see said relationship falling apart when they all saw that he's not as invested as they were. It was his fault, Edward realized, but whatever it is he was looking for didn't come from these women, with their glamorous taste and adventurous appetites.

In the end, he reached the 40th milestone of his age, and he woke up that morning in an empty house and hollowness in the depths of his chest.

At 40, Edward was too old to believe in birthday wishes. Yet as he brought home a birthday cake that night and lit the candle himself, he found himself closing his eyes, and praying for the one thing he's always wanted since he was 4 years old.

For all the news outlets always reported on his net worth, it wasn't a well known fact that only a fraction of that was ever used for Edward's own need. The majority of it goes to charities, most which involved children, and the biggest cut every month would be given to the same orphanage where he grew up in. Every month, his donation was met with a personal email from the matron, who was a young volunteer during his stay there and who he never lose touch with even after he ventured off and made a name for himself.

So it was with great surprise when he received an email way before their correspondence was due, and the content of the email had shocked him to leaping out of his seat and rushing outside of the door.

The sight of 'Sphinx Orphanage' brought back so many fond and painful memories, of his friends growing up and kind matrons who looked after them, while simultaneously a reminder of the days of having to share meagre food with everyone because government funding has been cut again and no sponsor. There is a sense of pride he couldn't quite quell when seeing the now adequate exterior of the building, as comfortable as a house with numerous children should.

The matron waited outside of the door for him, her wrinkled face lighting up as the sight of Edward approaching, "Oh, it's so nice to see you again, Mr. Newgate,"

"Edward, please," he said with a smile, "You practically raised me, matron,"

They exchanged pleasantries for a while, and the moment they were heading inside, her smile turned sombre, "Edward, i would like to tell you in person how grateful i am for your help all these years. No one had helped keep us afloat more than you, and we managed to keep on holding on so far just from your kindness alone. Oh dear boy, i'm so sorry that it had come to this,"

A heavy lump formed inside of Edward's throat, remembering his reason for being here, "Why is this orphanage shutting down? If it's about the money, i could always—"

"You're kind, Edward, but i'm afraid it's more than just that," The matron sighed, shaking her head as she gestured to the interior of the building. It was pretty much deserted, with only a couple of staff walking pass, each of them too engrossed in packing up toys and furnitures around the place, "There's simply no one else to take care of this place. We're short on staff most of the time, and even with donations from you, we simply don't have enough manpower anymore. And as much as i wanted to continue on my own, i can't, i've gone up in age and my daughter has offered for me to live with her and her family,"

Edward pursed his lips, eyeing the walls of his childhood with a pang of sadness. This was his first home, the place where he grew up in. It hurts thinking that it will be torn down. "So about this favour you've asked me…,"

"Oh yes, he's right here. If you would follow me,"

Edward stared after the matron, brows creasing. He?

The email hadn't been clear of what the matron wanted, only that she wished to request his help with one last thing she couldn't in good conscience left behind. He was led to the bedroom wing, their footsteps echoing through the empty and crayon stained walls, until the matron stopped in one of the further most rooms. The door was closed, unlike how the rest had theirs jarred open, showing small rooms with several beds and children paraphernalia.

"When we decided to close down this place, we tried to give the children other places to live in. After so many months, every other children in this place has been adopted or given to foster care, but no matter how hard we try," she sighed sadly, one frail hand hovering over the door knob, "No one wants to take him in," Carefully, she twisted the knob and pushed the door, making it creak. The inside of the room was dark, with the curtains drawn down that it concealed even the slightest ray of light from the evening skies. Unlike the other rooms, this one only held one bed, right at the corner, where a small lump was placed, and the sight of it made Edward's throat dry.

The boy on the bed was the literal embodiment of the term 'all bones', so painfully tiny and emaciated that even from where he was, Edward could only see jutting cheekbones and saggy eyes. And those eyes, which blinked blearily at the sound of the door opening, suddenly looked so wary, terrified like a small animal would a prey, instead of a human child would an adult. The boy scrambled back against the wall, clutching one pillow for defense, his eyes watching Edward with so much fear he had to look away.

"The poor boy had only arrived recently, just when we were in the cusp of closing down and, i know i shouldn't have taken him in knowing that, but he had looked so pitiful that i had to try," the matron told him in whispered voice, obviously in an effort not to startle the boy even more, "It proves harder than i thought. He panicked over the sight of any adult, he won't let anyone touch him, he won't eat," she raised a hand over her mouth, "And he… he won't talk,"

Edward tried to glance at the boy again, instinctively taking a step back in an attempt to make himself not look like a threat. It doesn't seem to be working; the boy raised his pillow higher to hid his face, little body trembling like a leaf, "What happened to him?"

"The child service agent that drop him over told me that they found him while arresting a reported abuser. He was locked in the cupboard, possibly for days without sustenance," under the grimness of her tone, there's a clear tinge of anger in the matron's voice, obviously directed to the poor boy's parents who had put him in this sort of situation, "Underneath his shirt is simply horrible, Edward. They put him in the hospital after finding him, but he was screaming and was so hysterical they put him here in here soon after. We tried our best, but nothing we're doing seems to do any good,"

On the bed, the boy was still cowering, but the pillow was slightly lowered, offering a dim peek at tired little eyes taking a cautious peek at Edward again. He smiled at the boy, but it was quickly gone when the boy gave a whimper and hid behind his pillow again.

"I don't know who else to turn to," The matron said again, regret filling her words, "I would bring this boy with me if i can, but my daughter's house cannot possibly contain another person and her family had just had a small baby of their own,"

And of course, that confirmed Edward's suspicion of what he was called here for. He gripped on the door frame and took a step inside. The boy's thin arms were gripping the pillow tighter at the sound of his footstep, and after a while, once again, he peeked from behind it. There was still fear in those eyes, but there were a tinge of curiosity as he watched Edward.

"What is your name?" He asked in a slightly louder voice than their whisper from before, giving the boy a smile, "Mine is Edward. I used to live here too,"

The boy, as the matron had said before, didn't say anything. But Edward noted how his tight grip on the pillow loosen, just enough that his knuckled didn't turn white from the force. Just as Edward thought he was making a progress, the boy hid again behind his pillow. The blond haired man sighed, and turned to the matron, voice back to a small whisper, "Do they ever find out what his name was?"

"They found a birth certificate, at least," she said, "His name is Marco,"

The process of taking Marco Newgate - like hell is he ever going to let the boy associate himself with his abusive family again - back to his home, despite all initial fear, was relatively quiet. Literally, because the boy would not utter a single word to him at all.

According to his birth certificate - which was horribly torn and uncared for that he immediately send a request for a new one, this time with him as the legal guardian - Marco was 6 years old, born underweight and with concerns over any adverse effect from his mother's drug taking habits before she became pregnant, but was born healthy otherwise. The CPS report he requested when he lodged in his adoption forms comes with a gruesome police report and heartbreaking psych evaluation, all which Edward read through the night after he finally brought Marco home.

With a heavy sigh, he took off his reading glasses to look at the bedroom right next to his, the one he assigned to Marco on his arrival. The boy had simply cowered on the back seat during the whole trip home, gripping his backpack between him and Edward the entire time like it will shield him against the older man, and once he was introduced to the now child-friendly room, had refused to come out at all. Edward had left his dinner in front of the door, but he had waited the whole night in the living room overlooking the door and found that it was still wholly untouched.

The clock on the coffee table told him that it was near midnight, and Edward had half a mind to knock and plead for the boy to eat before it finally occurred to him that maybe he was the problem. Just as he could see Marco's door, Marco obviously knew he was watching him. To test this theory, he stood up from the sofa, making as much noise as he could by bumping on the table and making his footsteps louder, before making his way into his own bedroom and closing the door loudly. Then, he stood by the wall that separated his room and the room next door, waiting to hear anything at all.

Not 5 minutes later, there's a faint sound of creak from the other room, followed by a faint hitched breath. After a couple of shuffling, he heard wet smacks of food being consumed hungrily before the sound quieted down soon after, as if whoever is making that noise was scared to be heard.

That revelation hurt him more than it should.

It wasn't a huge development, but it was still a development.

Edward didn't really like hiring people to take care of his living space so he cleaned up his own house and order ready made food delivered daily, which he found himself doing even more since Marco came to live with him. Every morning, he would knock on the door of Marco's bedroom before leaving, telling the boy he left some food and that he is free to venture anywhere he liked and that he left his phone number by the telephone. There was some semblance of fear the first few days he left for work that maybe Marco will ran away, but every night, he'd come home to see telltale signs of some food being taken from the fridge and the food he left at the door will be eaten clean by the next day.

After a week, Edward decided to delegate more of his work to his trusted employees and began staying at home more and more. The original plan was to spend more time with Marco, establishing himself as a permanent fixture around the boy's life, which is not something he can do if he's still pulling normal working hours. He bought books on parenting, taking in information like a sponge while he patiently wait for that door to open for him. He didn't want to push too much, yet every now and then he'd try to start a conversation only to back away when he received no answer.

Nothing quite happened until 2 weeks in, when Edward fell asleep on the sofa one night, the latest book on child rearing falling on top of his face. It was the faint creak that first alerted him, yet in daze, he found himself more confused on waking up to seeing words up close to his eyes. At another creak, he slowly reach up and took the book, sleepily glancing to the side to where he heard the sound from.

Right across from the sofa where he fell asleep, in front of his large book case, he could see a small shadow only partially illuminated by the yellow reading light on the table next to him, the only source of light he had on before. A pale little hand reach out to one of the row higher than he could reach, finger tips brushing over the back of a thin book while another was pushing another book back into an empty space. Edward tried to recall what sort of book he had there, only to come up blank.

Marco, still unaware that he's being watched, jumped on his tiptoe, pushing the book in while trying to grab a new one. With a quiet, determined grunt, he jumped again, and this time, miscalculated. The book he had been trying to return fell in a loud thud, while the book in the case was finally pulled out only to clatter on the floor as well when the boy was too startled by the first falling book to catch it.

He gasped and turned back, wide eyes turning even wider when he caught sight of Edward watching him silently.

The older blond man smiled, enthusiastic at this sudden change of events, "Books, huh? Which one are you— Hey!"

With a muffled scream, Marco suddenly turned around and dashed, but he didn't get too far when he accidentally tripped on the fallen book and fell face first on the floor.

"Shit!"

In panic, Edward tossed the book in his hand and quickly rush over to where Marco was scrambling to get up, eyes full of tears but not a single one was shed. Instead, the boy sat up and clasped both hands in front of his mouth, letting not even the tinniest whimper to be heard as his big eyes stared up fearfully at Edward. His body was tightly wounded, braced to dash away at any unknown movement. Or to defend himself against any attack.

The sight of it made the older man stop, alarmed.

"H-hey," he called out softly, not daring to take a single step closer, both hands up in platitude, "Are you okay? Did anything hurt?"

Marco didn't reply, mouth still tightly covered with both of his hands. He's shaking, Edward noted bitterly, his little toes curling and uncurling uncomfortably.

At lost as to what to do - none of those parenting books mentions what to do when your child look at you like you're going to hit them for tripping - Edward's eyes caught sight of the two books Marco dropped. The first one, the one he had been trying to put back, was a graphic novel of an old children novel he read back in his own childhood, one of the very first purchases Edward ever made when he got his first part time job as a paperboy. The other one had been an educational book for children to learn geography and maps. He didn't remember when he bought that one, but he's pretty sure it was one of those books he was given during those numerous children charities events he attended as a thank you for his continuous donation.

He picked up the second book, flipping it back and forth while keeping an eye on Marco. The boy gave a hitched breath when he showed the cover to him, his fingers digging into the flesh of his cheeks in an effort to cover his mouth even more. Edward winced and held the strong urge to pry it off, but he didn't want to make any sudden gesture.

"This is a good one," Edward said instead, hesitantly, while giving the boy an uncertain smile. He pointed to the title, the big, bolded 'LET'S READ MAPS! FROM RAFTEL TO SABAODY', "You can see maps in it. From Raftel to Sabaody. I think there's more, like the," he took a quick peek at the back of the book, largely advertising the other titles of its series, "Ah, from Foosha to Thriller Bark, that's in East Blue, and there's also for West, North and South too. We're in Raftel, so i guess it's good to start with this one,"

When Marco still refused to talk - and started digging his finger even more to his cheek, causing deep white indents - Edward pushed down his frustration and finally offered the book to him, "Do you want it? You can have it if you want, it's yours,"

After a long while, something seems to change. Much to Edward's great relief, the hands gripping Marco's lower face began to loosen their grip, and despite the now wet cheeks, he could see any new tears forming on the boy's expressive eyes. He smiled wider, and taking a leap of faith, extended the book even more, close enough to be in reach.

In a bat of an eye, suddenly the book was snatched out of his hand and Edward could only briefly hear rushed pitter-patter of small feet before there was a mighty door slam.

Stunned, the man could only watch the empty space where a cowering child was before, look up to the now closed door and shook his head in exasperation. Damn, he really thought they got some good progress there.

But still, books, huh?

The clerk in his nearby bookstore actually remembered his visit from the week before, and after seeing him with another mountain of books, this time geared for children instead of parents, seems to finally made up her mind to help an obviously clumsily fumbling new father. Picture books and crayons were added to his shopping list, as well as some crafts for the appropriate age range, educational books alongside of comic books. While waiting at the cashier to pay for his numerous purchases, Edward caught sight of a cutesy little stand display of hand-knitted animals plush - with proceeding going to children funds - and bought a baby blue bird doll that's extremely soft to the touch.

Back home, he knocked on Marco's door, and was not even surprised to be met with silence. A quick check told him that at least the book from yesterday was still missing from the bookcase, so he left his bags of books and toys by the door, the doll placed slumped on top of them, "I got you some gifts," he called out into the room, "Take a look at them and see which one you like. I'm going to make dinner now,"

Dinner was lasagna, one of the 'fun and easy' dishes recommended by the parents book since all he had to do was buy ready-made pasta and sauce and assemble. In practice it wasn't really that simple, since the sauce kept sinking against the pasta and the end result was more like an abomination than anything else. Edward stared at his failed creation, took an experimental bite and winced. The pasta ended up charred while being soggy at the same time from being kept in the freezer, the sauce clumpy and just tasted like tomato, and when he deposited them to the plate, the entire structure just sadly flopped to the side.

Why did he even tried to cook again? Oh right, because the book said that home cooked meals will bring children comfort and connection to their own home.

If anything, Edward could be arrested for poisoning his own foster child.

Still, it's too late now to go buy some other ingredients and start over. If Marco didn't want to eat, he'd just call some take out for them.

With some degree of disappointment, he placed the meal and a glass of water on the tray he's been using to bring food over. Edward exited the kitchen and walked to the bedroom halls, and almost dropped the tray in shock when he saw what's in front of the door.

Shock number one comes from the fact that Marco was outside of the room, curled with his back against the door while he had one of the picture books propped open against his thighs. Shock number two was from the sight of the doll lying limply in the boy's hold, not the tight grip like the way he kept holding on to something for protection, but it was almost careful and loose, just something to hold on to.

Then, shock number three happened when Marco looked up to see him, eyes wide but just when Edward expected him to flee again, he didn't. He was staring at the older man warily, his lips bitten nervously as he started to clutch the doll tighter than necessary, but he was still sitting, with no indication of wanting to flee.

Unsure of what this means but unwilling to let the opportunity goes past, Edward gave him a smile and took a couple of steps, keeping enough distance between them before lowering the tray to Marco's line of sight, "Dinner?" he asked, carefully watching the boy's reaction upon seeing his admittedly horrendous culinary skills. Marco didn't reply, but neither did he react negatively, which Edward took as a sign to take another step. Finally, when he was only a couple of steps away, he put the tray down, and giving it a little more push, "It's not much, just some lasagna,"

Which, the more he looked at it, the more pitiful it looked. Before he could take it away and order something more appropriate to feed one's child with, Marco made the first move. He crawled over, knobby knees dragging against the cold floor, until he was within the food's reach. He watched the red and yellow odd concoction carefully, then, with a wary glance at Edward, suddenly reached over with open hand and had the piece of food into his mouth in a flash.

Edward blinked at the sheer disregard of human etiquette, especially since the spoon and fork was just right there next to the plate, before the speed Marco was eating caught his attention and the matrons' words resurfaced in his mind, along with memory of him silently eating during that first day. Days without being fed. Could it be that he had to sneak around to actually fed himself, a necessity in human life, when he was still living with his own parents?

Anger boils over like lava in the pits of Edward's stomach, yet he tempered them down in order not to frighten Marco. He's here now, with Edward, who will make sure he will grow up with the kind of care and love any child deserve from their parents. He won't have to live in fear ever again.

Slowly, he reached over, and as soon as Marco saw his hand approaching, he quickly retracted his own, pressing his sauce stained hands on his shirt. Edward picked up the spoon on the side and cut a small enough piece from the carnage that was left of the lasagna, "Eat slowly, my boy," he told the young boy, lifting the chunk of pasta on the spoon and offered it to Marco, "Bits by bits, like this. If you eat that fast, you'd get a stomachache,"

The blond boy was, understandably, distrustful of the spoon offered to him. Edward decided to lead by example and took the spoon towards himself, and took a bite.

Only to end up wincing in disgust when the slimy, partially cold food hit his tongue, "Oh my god, this is horrible!" he exclaimed, horrified. He fed a child this monstrosity?! Marco already ate more than half of these! "Oh god, i am so sorry, Marco, i didn't think it was going to be this bad. Oh, ugh, hack— No, no, we are throwing these away, this is horrible, we are ordering out. What do you want to—Oh, Marco, no don't—" but it was too late, because, using the fork that was still left on the tray, Marco copied his gesture, taking a more sizeable chunk out of the plate and opened his tiny little mouth to accomodate it all.

Edward grimaced at the sight, knowing now how horrible it must've tasted, "You don't have to force yourself, dear boy, this is my fault. Throw it up, it's fine, i'll get you something more palatable to eat,"

But Marco, in a display of what has to be his first ever response to Edward, only quietly shook his head, ballooned cheeks still bobbing as he chew and finally swallowed the last of Edward's borderline inedible lasagna. He then put the fork down gently on the plate, before stealing a glance from under his frizzy blond bangs, almost shy instead of fearful. Like Edward was no longer a threat to be feared.

And that, that almost brought tears to Edward's eyes.

"Well now," he choked, a smile blooming underneath his crescent shaped moustache, "How about we get you into a bath?"

Marco still wasn't talking, and it was only the doctors' report that told Edward he wasn't mute. But that was something to take care of for another day.

Since the disastrous lasagna day, Marco was more willing to step out of his room, if only to take some new books and take food from the fridge even with Edward watching. After a while, he was also willing to start eating dinner in the dining room with Edward instead of his room, his now ever-present companion, the bird doll hanging by his side at all times. At first, the older man had been wary to try his hand on cooking again, opting to order out, until one of the parents book warned about unbalanced nutrients from unknown kitchens and the importance of appropriate sustenance for growing children.

So he tried his best, evident in the burns and cuts all over his hands, even if his hard work never seems to be reflected in the end product. Still Marco ate everything to the very last drop, and during one of the dinner Edward was mildly proud of with the end product, some chicken noodle soup, Marco hesitantly offered his bowl and gestured to the pot for seconds, where there are still some leftover overcooked chicken and bland noodles with oily broth.

After 2 long months, it was inevitable that Edward had to return to work. He decided against hiring a babysitter, not when Marco was only getting comfortable around him, so he left ready eat food and bought more toys and books to keep him occupied until he gets home. More importantly, he instructed Marco on how to use the phone and told him to call for him if he needs anything at all. With an apology and a quick kiss to the forehead, Edward left to work with heavy heart.

His first day back was expectedly busy. A lot of documents to be signed and project to kick start, yet not an hour pass by that his mind didn't wander home, worried over his son. What if something happened to Marco when he's not home? What if a burglar came sniffing around only to find a defenseless child? Maybe he should bring Marco to work, but he didn't think the boy was ready for it. Should he get a dog? One of the parenting books mentioned that dogs makes for good company for a child.

The end of office hours approached, and Edward couldn't have gone out fast enough. In the middle of the afternoon, the sky had gone dark enough it could be mistaken for night, right before the skies open and started pouring down on earth unforgivably. Edward was sure he broke several traffic laws but found that he couldn't care less, not when this weather only added to his fear. What if his house is flooded?

What if one of those thunders strike his roof?

Thankfully, the house was intact by the time he arrived, but that did little to dissuade his worried. Not until he met his son.

Coldness that has nothing to do with him soaked in rainwater began to seep when upon entering the house, Edward couldn't see a single telltale sign of another human being. Around this time of the evening, Marco had formed the habit to read next to his bookcase, in a small chair he had bought for him recently, but the chair was empty. In fact, it was even upturned, and with a book falling carelessly on it, it was like someone had been there before and left quite in a hurry.

In time with the tight grip in his heart, suddenly, the lightning outside thunders with a boom. And under the deafening sound was a muffled, scared scream of a child.

"Marco!"

Dropping everything he was holding, Edward quickly raced to Marco's bedroom, almost breaking the door down in his hurry to reach his son. Sure enough, right in the middle of the bed, curled under the blanket was a small lump which was unmistakably the missing boy. As another booming lighting sounded outside, this time even closer, Marco's scream was borderline hysterical, and that made Edward leap into action.

He lifted the small bundle and cradled him close to his chest, seeing a head of frizzy blond hair poking out from beneath the blanket. Marco had his eyes squeezed shut and heartbreaking little sobs and whimpers could be heard from his trembling lips, his entire body curling around his bird doll. Edward rocked him from side to side, hushing the boy and running a hand up and down his back comfortingly, "It's okay, it's okay. I'm home, i'm here, everything's going to be alright,"

The rain outside kept falling, and through the rumbles of threatening thunder, Edward found himself beginning to do what he never thought he would: He began to sing.

"Hush little baby, don't you cry," he whispered against the boy's hair, placing little affectionate pecks on his hair, "Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird,"

The tiny body in his grip shifts, and Edward could fell small hands gripping on to his pressed suit. With his other hand, he reached down for said hand blindly, taking it in his own much larger ones, letting his fingers be squeezed for comfort, "And if that mockingbird won't sing, Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring,"

As the sobs began to quiet down, Edward began to wonder how his life had reached this stage. His employees, when told of the real reason for his absence, had expressed their surprise for him adopting a child out of nowhere. Whitey Bay, new high school intern had expressed her congratulations and asked if he was planning to take a wife soon to give the boy a maternal figure in his life. He was interrupted by one of the department manager Kozuki Oden before he could reply - since he himself had a child recently and could not shut up about his new baby - but his answer would've been a resounding no.

Like this, trying to sing a lullaby to help his son sleep, it was the kind of scenario Edward never imagined himself doing but know he wouldn't have it any other way. He thought of that day 2 months ago when he stepped into Sphinx Orphanage and watched himself be carried into his childhood, watching his friends disappear one by one to be adopted while never getting the chance to get a new family himself. He thought of it as he chased after fortune in his youth, and found that now that reached his peak, riches and occasional warm bodies would never substitute for that loneliness that deeply gnawed his insides since he was a boy.

But like this, this is the most peaceful he has ever felt.

His own child. His own little family.

"And if that diamond ring turned to brass, papa's gonna buy you a looking glass," he continued to croon softly, feeling the relief he felt making way for exhaustion. It's been such a long day of worrying, he had to figure something out soon, some way to still take care of Marco to the best of his abilities while taking care of the rest of his responsibility, "And if that looking glass gets broke…. Hmmm? Now how does that song goes again?"

He couldn't quite remember, but it didn't matter in the end. When he glanced down, Marco was fast asleep, his soft little lips parted slightly and his hand was limp in Edward's hold, his other tightly clutching his bird doll.

Quietly, as not to wake the poor child, Edward chuckled, giving him one last peck to the crown of his head. He thought of moving to lay the boy down on the bed and going to sleep himself, but the mattress under him was far too inviting. In the end, he settled himself down, taking a deep sighing breath.

"If that looking glass gets broke," he hummed, hand absentmindedly stroking the fragile hand clinging to his, "Then Papa's gonna give you the whole damn world,"

One of the biggest concerns Edward had, helpfully highlighted by various parenting books, is that a growing child can't just stay at home and made no connection with the outside world.

So he planned an outing for them, just the two of them, just to get Marco used to other people aside from him. Just so, the newspaper advertised a big carnival coming to town, and what better place to take a child to then a place meant to bring joy and merry to children? It couldn't possibly go wrong.

Maybe it's because he'd gotten cocky over his recent success with Marco, but things go wrong. Oh, so horribly wrong.

For starters, the carnival was so jammed pack even Edward was feeling claustrophobic, and they had only reached the ticket booth. Marco had looked reluctant right since the moment they reached the parking lot, but he had followed through after Edward offered to hold his hand. He was now pressed close against his father's leg, short of just climbing him, and in the end, Edward relented and simply carried him up.

At least, with the ticket line over, they finally could make their way inside. It was all bright and loud and too cheerful, with colourful stands starting from the entrance to the middle of the park where the carnival was held, where it made way for the bigger attractions; a carousel, a giant merry-go-round, and a miniature roller coaster. Edward tried to put Marco down once they were in a quiet enough spot, right between a candy floss stand and one of those tossing games, and it seems like any initial wariness had been replaced by curiosity, if the way he kept looking around was any indication.

"Well, this is it," Edward announced, looking around himself. He hadn't been to this sort of place since his youth, and yet, even though decades must've passed, the place still looks quite the same. They walked closely against each other, mindful of the crowd while stopping every once in a while to admire the available games and attractions. A few times, Edward could feel Marco stopping, eyes wide in wonder as he stared at the prices hung above any game stands or some of the colourful and savoury smelling foods.

One of these places was a strongman game, where the latest contestant, an admittedly muscled man could only reach a couple of points under the bell on top of the machine. The amused stand attendant consoled him while someone in the crowd boo-ed and laughed. The man walked away dejectedly to make way for another man, who tried and failed yet again to hit the top bell.

Edward chuckled at the display and glanced down at Marco, who was clutching his pants tightly, "I could do that," he bragged with a smile, "I'm really strong, you know,"

He only meant to joke around, but he wasn't expecting the small smile that suddenly rose on Marco's lips. The view almost struck him speechless. He… he managed to make his son smile. Marco smiled over his dumb words. He did it. He made him smile.

He was too engrossed at the sight, chest bubbling over with happiness that Edward almost missed the stand attendant pointing at him with the long hammer, "You there, sir! You look like a big strong man, why not give this a try? Win the grand prize for your little boy, and be Dad of the Year!"

Dad of the Year.

Oh, why does the thought of that makes him so happy.

Suddenly feeling giddy, the blond, moustached man knelt down to his son's height - as much as he could, anyway - and patted the top of his head, "What do you think? Do you want me to win that grand prize for you?" The grand prize, as shown by the attendant, was a massive toxic purple teddy bear that hung from the highest point of the booth next to the machine. He pointed it out to Marco, who gave it a long look before nodding just slightly.

Edward grinned, and took his hand as they walked to the front of the crowd. He took the hammer from the attendant and paid for the fee, testing the weight on his arms with a few swings. Some of the people in the crowd began whispering, noting the power behind his move, but none of their compliment meant anything to Edward. To him, he was only watching the wonder in Marco's blue eyes and he only cared about showing off to his boy alone.

He gave the blond boy a wink, and with a mighty swing, slammed the hammer down with all his might.

The bell on top of the machine rang loudly and repeatedly not a second later.

"Holy fucking shit— I mean, congrats, sir!" the attendant was flustered, voice almost drowned by the crowd's exhilarated reaction. Amongst them, right in front, Marco was staring at the blaring alarm on top of them with wide eyes, another almost smile appearing on his lips. Edward preened harder than he should for making him look like that, "That was, wow, you're the first guy to hit the bell today. Y-you get to pick your prize,"

He handed the hammer back, and was about to step off from the stage to get to the prize booth, when there was suddenly a too familiar shriek of terror that grips him in fear.

The man swivelled, to see that the crowd had dispersed around a panicking clown, standing right in front of a terrified Marco. The clown began stammering as Edward stomped over, loudly bellowing 'Get away from my son!' with both of his fist balled in anger. He couldn't think clearly, not when there's a perceived threat right there in front of Marco. His son, his kid. Before he realized it, his fist was swung, hitting the clown straight and pushing him back a meter away.

With gritted teeth, he was about to approach the damned clown again, ignoring the shocked gasped and pleads to stop around him, until he heard something he never thought he'd hear.

"Papa!" a small, hoarse voice screamed, and it wasn't until he looked down, bewildered, that he realized that it came from Marco, "Papa, i'm scared! Papa!"

For that single second, everything else around Edward seems to disappear, but that little boy calling him 'Papa'. He talked. He finally talked, and he called him 'Papa'. Immediately he rushed back over to scoop Marco up in his arms, tightly holding on to the boy without suffocating him, "It's okay, son, i'm here. I'm right here, you don't have to be afraid anymore,"

From somewhere behind him, an irritated voice called out, "Dude, what the hell?! I'm sorry i scared your kid, but you don't have to—"

Edward turned and threw the clown a menacing glare, one that immediately shut him up with a startled yelp. Stifling a sigh, he then reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, still carefully balancing Marco on his other arm, flicking it open one handed to pull out a thick stack of bellis, at least 3/4 of what he had with him. He bent down, carefully as not to spook the crying child on his shoulder, and thrust the money out to the slack-jawed entertainer.

'Take it and leave' he mouthed, still wearing the same glare, and watched with mild satisfaction as the clown grabbed the offered money and scurried away, balloons and all. Maybe he should at least ask for one of those to get his money worth somewhat, "It's okay, Marco," he cooed, trying to coax the boy from hiding his face on his shoulder, "He's gone. I'm sorry for leaving you like that, i should've been more careful,"

The boy lifted his head and sniffled, as another fat, fresh tear rolled down his blue eyes, "I'm sorry,"

"Now, now, you were scared, there's nothing to be sorry for—"

But Marco kept squirming, and it was then that Edward realized something else.

The seat the blond boy's pants was mysteriously wet, and there's something dripping down to his own shirt.

Edward could only blink.

Finally, he sighed, but there was still a large smile on his face, one that was almost a perfect imitation to his moustache. Papa. He could get used to that, "Well, what do you say we pick up our prize, then go back home and get you changed, hm?"

"Aww, this is so freaking adorable!"

Edward let out an unrestrained guffaw when he saw the picture Ace was looking at, ignoring Marco's loud groan of 'Pops, why this one?!'. When he realized he's not about to get anywhere complaining to his father, the blond man had taken to trying to extract the photo album away from his cackling fiancee, who wasn't letting it go without a fight.

"Look at you!" Ace exclaimed with open adoration at the picture, "Look how small you were compared to Pops back then! And you in your little halloween costume, oh this is so precious!"

"It was a matching pair," Edward nodded, purposefully fuelling the fire, "Marco got obsessed old maps, and then he got really into pirates. That first halloween, i dressed up as the pirate captain and he goes as a pet parrot, the great Whitebeard's faithful companion. He sat on my shoulder the entire night!"

"Oh my god, why would you tell him that?! I was 6!" Marco protested over Ace's gleeful cackles.

That picture was carefully fished out from behind the protective film, and was held triumphantly over the raven haired man's head, "I want this picture for our wedding slide! Pops, can i have it? I'll scan it and give it to you right back,"

"No! No, you're not having that picture in our wedding slide!"

"Yes, we are!"

"If that picture's going in, then the picture of you when Sabo accidentally burned both your eyebrows goes to!"

"What! No! You're horrible!"

Leaning back on his sofa, one hand petting a dozing Stefan the Fourth, Edward watched the two bicker with great amount of fondness. A few months ago, Marco had finally gone and proposed, using the same ring he unknowingly showed his own father in law that night. It wasn't any surprise that Ace accepted, and now they had been swamped with preparation for the ceremony. One of the things they wanted to do for the reception had been wedding slides, where they would be showing pictures of both grooms from childhood to the moment of their meeting, so visiting their respective parents to get those forbidden childhood photos were in order.

At least, it's what Ace had said. In reality the younger man had been non-stop laughing at every picture album Edward can show him, while Marco was left flustered about old photos and evidence of old shame.

At another picture - a pretty cute one, if Edward say so himself, it was the album that held photos of Marco during his early years of staying with him - Ace only cackled at Marco's distress, but mocking his fiancé was soon forgotten when he flipped the album to a new page and started cooing at every photograph, "Oh my god, that is the most adorable thing i've ever seen, you're literally being swallowed by that purple teddy bear!" he then paused, flicking through the rapidly, "Hey, is it just me or are you— You are, aww,"

With a long suffering sigh, the older man warily glanced at him, "What are you on about now?"

"You were a crybaby! Every other photo in this album had you crying and you look adorable! Look at those cheeks, i want to eat them up,"

"That's cannibalism, Ace,"

The younger scoffed, leering from the book full of baby Marco to the indignant adult Marco, "Where'd this cute wittle baby gone to? Him and his chubby cheeks were so precious,"

"He grew out of the baby fat and crying to be tired, exasperated and old because the love of his life just won't-put-the-goddamn-album-down— Ace!"

Edward chuckled when started distracting Marco by pressing little kisses on said cheeks he wanted to eat up, shaking his head as he stood up to head to the kitchen. Ah, wonderful youthful vigour, he envies it sometimes.

He was in the middle of refilling his glass with more ice cold water from the fridge when another figure wondered in behind him, huffing in irritation, "Why'd you show him those ones. He's never going to let that go now,"

"But, Marco," Edward snickered, "He was right, you were at your cutest during that age,"

Marco groaned as he sidled up to him, grabbing another glass to get some water himself. He paused in the middle of pouring, lips pursed, "I told him some time ago. About.. about the times before those ones,"

From outside of the kitchen, they could still hear Ace laughing quietly while Stefan would give little howls and barks as replies, but the mood in the kitchen had turned sombre. Edward put his glass down, and nodded, when Marco continued, "When i finally made up my mind that it's the right time for us to tie the knot, i thought he should know everything about me. The bad, the good,"

"And what did he say?"

An affectionate smile bloomed on the younger man's lips, "He hugged me, and didn't say anything," he took a slow sip from his half filled glass, bidding his time, "Next we started talking about kids, and if instead of surrogate, we could look into getting an adoption,"

"He's a good kid," Edward said fondly, glancing to the living room, where they left Ace. He could see the young man flipping through the pages with Stefan pressed close next to him, laughing at some while secretly looking fondly at others, "And you two would make amazing fathers,"

Marco snorted, glancing towards his father, "If i am, then i've learned from the best,"

What was supposed to be a quick visit ended up stretching to dinner, and neither Edward or Ace wanted to taste each other's cooking, despite Marco's confusion. They ended up ordering take outs, and while Marco left to pick up their order, Ace sat next to Edward, one hand on the photo album he wouldn't let go since he was first shown it, "He was so adorable as a kid. His little hair, oh my god, it's like cotton candy topping, it's so cute,"

Edward chuckled, "That he was. Hated it when someone told him that though,"

Ace snickered, but it was fully sincere. He gripped on the book tighter against his chest, "He told me about his childhood. Before you met, how you adopted him, all of that,"

He fell quiet, and the older man waited for him to continue to see where this conversation could be going. He didn't expect to get a tight hug from his soon-to-be son-in-law, "Thank you for loving him," Ace whispered, sounding so sincere it hurts Edward's old heart, "I promise to do the same to him. Please leave it to me to take care of him from now on,"

Edward looped both of his strong arms around Ace's waist and back, and all of the sudden, he felt transported to those days almost 30 years ago, of hugging his son, the first of many, feeling proud and fulfilled with his life. He had reached contentment so many years ago, having found what it was that he wanted and had gone aimlessly without for so long, but moments like this, when he could clearly see how happy his own sons are they way they made him, it filled him with such joy.

"I would trust no one else, my boy," he told Ace sincerely, "Thank you for loving him too,"

When they separate, there's a happy flush on Ace's cheeks, and oh, right there, Edward could see what made Marco fell in love in the first place, "Actually, there's one more thing i want to talk about," He opened the photo album again and pointed at one of the photos of Marco during his grade school days, tearily but bravely facing his new school. Ace pointed at the item held tightly in his hand, "I've seen this doll a lot during these ages, was it his favorite toy or something?"

"Ah, FeeFee," Edward recalled with no small amount of enthusiasm, "Marco's very first doll. Yes, i gave it to him after i adopted him and he never parted with that doll until near the end of grade school. He said he's too old for toys, but i know for a fact that doll was still in his bedroom right before he moved out,"

Ace's cheeks went red, but this time it was from obviously stifled hilarity, "FeeFee?"

"He loved reading since he was young, and one of the books had been this fantasy novel about mythical creatures. He was trying to say 'Phoenix', but couldn't, so FeeFee it is,"

"Oh my god," the raven haired man squeaked, suppressing laughter, "He named our bird Phoenix. I guarantee you he still remembered that doll," then, with a mostly serious face, partially contorted by laughter, Ace asked him, "Please tell me you still have that doll, Pops. I'm going to give it to him during the honeymoon,"

Ingenious. Edward had no qualm in keeping is laughter down, "I believe i still do have her around here. Okay, you distract him and i'll—"

"I hear that. Distract me for what? What are you planning? Ace, you—Guagh! Stop kissing me, you're clearly distracting me— Ace!"

As his two boys began to roll around, Edward only rolled his eyes good-naturedly and walked away as discreetly as he could.

Now where did he keep that doll?

Me when starting this fic: The joke is that Ace is a shit cook but Marco thinks it's the most delicious thing anyway because power of loveTM

Me retconning my own fic: Eating badly cooked food subconsciously reminded Marco of the first person who loves him unconditionally and his never-ending effort to raise him, so even if it tasted horrible, if it's made with him in mind, it's always going to taste great to him.

Up next, the wedding!

Tell me what you think!