Disclaimer: All characters belong to Oda Eiichiro.

Just a little angst.

Spoilers for episode 483 + and corresponding manga chapters.

His feet barely felt the uneven ground under his feet as he dragged himself through the battlefield. Around him there was the sound of movement, but it was all muted compared to the ringing in his ears. He had descended to the other side of the gorge that had been made, not caring that the marines slowly inched away from him as they regarded Sengoku's words.

Moving forward he walked through the battlegrounds stepping over the fallen solider or comrade till he has reach the place that no one seemed to enter. Without hesitation he crossed that perimeter as Marco in all that made him a commander, displayed that strength that the others had lost in the chaos that had erupted.

His knees hit the ground, blood soaking through his pants unregistered. The marines have given little dignity in throwing a white cloth over the destroyed body; the blood mockingly soaked through and turned the cloth red as it stared up at him. Marco slowly reached out a hand, his fingers threading in the messy mop of hair that was a dirty, tangled, and hardened from blood and tears. Moving the few strands he was greeted with the peaceful expression that was smiling as the other cheek pressed into the ground. Rubbing his thumb over the dirty forehead affectionately he bowed his head.

The sound of approaching footsteps didn't cause him to stir, but he took notice as they stopped at his side. Cracking his eyes open, Marco glanced at the sandaled feet that were next to him. Marco raised his head about to say something, but was beaten to it.

"You don't have to say anything," the quiet and even voice of Shanks was much louder than anything at the moment. Taking his eyes off the yonkou, Marco glanced over at the scene further away where the other commanders had gathered around Whitebeard's still proud figure, sorrow and grief encircling them. He watched as they hesitantly approached the standing figure, until finally they slowly reached out to grab their father and carefully moved him into a position so they could take his body back into their arms. Marco's breath hitched slightly as they started to move, carrying the weight of the world with them; heads were bowed and tears were falling, but they didn't falter.

"Marco?" a voice behind him said and the phoenix looked over his shoulder to see Izou's questioning and stained face watching him with concern. Marco did not respond, but released a breath and began the difficult feat. Reaching forward his let his hands rest on Ace's cooling body and tightened his gripped as he slowly rolled him over to his back; Marco's stomach dropped further as Ace moved without resistance. The young commander's arm was contorted under his body and Marco used his knee to push it out under so it sat normally. Eventually he got Ace's body to rest in his lap, the head pillowed on a raised knee.

The bloody mess was a horrifying sight. Blood still spilled out of Ace's body as it drained from him. Marco reached for the stained cloth and pulled it around and tucked it into the other side so that it covered the mortal wound, giving Ace one last sense of dignity. Gritting his teeth, the First Commander used his other hand to thread it under Ace's knees grasping it tightly as he shifted his other arm around the back. Ace's head rolled to rest on his shoulder and Marco pressed his forehead against the young man's. Closing his eyes, he released a tense breath and slowly pushed himself up to stand holding the deadweight of the body in his arms. The body seemed so much heavier now than it had during the playful fights in brighter days.

Shuffling his feet, he turned to face Shanks who looked at them with a familiar sadness that had looked upon this blood before. Catching his eyes, Marco accepted the yonkou's nod before shifting his eyes toward Izou who was focused on Ace's face.

Adjusting Ace's body gently once more, Marco looked towards the path and makeshift bridge that had been created to carry the bodies back to their side. From a distance Marco watched as Sengoku stood hunched over, his hand resting strongly on the shoulder of Garp who sat on the ground watching Marco carry his grandson. In normal circumstances Garp should have been the one to carry Ace, but those with D's inscribed in their blood were never normal and the comrades who had taken Ace under their wing had that right now. Marco gave Garp that moment to look at Ace one more time before he began to move through the battlefield, Shanks and Izou following close behind. Garp bowed his head and through gritted teeth held every urge to move recklessly.

As Marco moved back towards their ship comrades shifted out of their way as they had for Whitebeard, wanting one last look. The phoenix didn't stop, but kept his pace steady. There was no rush now.

The ship loomed in front of him and on the deck Marco could see the crew laying out Whitebeard's body down on the deck. Glancing down at Ace he waited for the voice to make a comment about him carrying the fire user, but it never came.

'You get Thatch's company now,' he thought moving towards the gangplank that had been set up to board. Behind him he could still feel Shanks' presence. With one foot on the plank, Marco stopped and looked over his shoulder back at the man.

"Give me my one duty," Marco said hoarsely as Shanks narrowed his eyes, scanning Marco's face before moving to Ace's. The tenseness seemed to disappear as Shanks' expression softened slightly and he nodded.

"We'll take up the rear and meet up," Shanks said before he turned around and moved back to his crew to help with the fallen and injured. Marco watched him go as the thought that perhaps the red haired pirate had only wanted to be closer to Ace due to the connection, but he didn't entertain it any longer. Izou watched him leave as well before glancing back to Marco. Shaking his head the First Commander continued slowly till he had reached the deck. Around him there were injured men lying around and towards the back were the fallen comrades.

Stepping next to Whitebeard's figure Marco kneeled down and placed Ace next to the mountain-like man. The difference in size seemed so much more now. Once Ace was finally on the ground Marco stood up and briefly noted the blood that covered his entire front side. Raising a bloodied hand he sighed quietly and turned to the rest of the crew who was staring at him expectantly.

"Get the rest onboard," he ordered watching as the crew looked at him for a moment before taking up the task they had been given. Slowly they moved away and Marco was left standing between the two.

This is how it would be.