A/N: I am so sorry for updating so late! Thank you all for the wonderful reviews! Here is the final installment. I would say I've been busy with life-stuff, but I would be lying. For some reason, I just wasn't in the mood to work on this fic. I was still writing, but something different and a lot more intense and dark and non-con-y. I'm not going to put that one up; it's for my eyes only ;)

This chapter was super fun and super easy to write in the end though I had a hard time figuring out how to end it. I apologize for the length of this chapter. I didn't mean for it to get this long. I just kinda hit 4,500 words without realizing it. Anyways, with this story I wanted to juxtapose the character's worldviews, experiences, and personalities. It's fascinating how differently they react to a single event. Neither is in the right, but neither is completely wrong, either. Moreover, it is a chance for them to learn more about each other and grow. Let me know if I managed to convey this clearly!

Oh, almost forgot. I realized that I completely forgot Marco's characteristic verbal ticks. I put them in this chapter and I may go back and fix the rest when I'm not feeling lazy.

God, I love hurt/comfort! It makes me really happy! Though this is a damn twisted version of the genre… Let's play a game, shall we? Guess who's being comforted and who's doing the comforting! I choose both! :0

Warnings: Language. And excessive angst. But we're done with all the gory bits.

Previously…

The cut is instantaneous. He pushed all thoughts of fear and anxiety out of his head and just acted, channeling all his strength and power into the force of the slash. The skin broke immediately, after which came the muscles and the arteries, torn apart by the pirate's spiral-motion strike. The bones broke apart last as Marco's right hand was severed from his body. The seastone cuff followed, falling with a clank to the hard stone floor.

Chapter 3

Ace fell backwards, the knife flying out of his hands. What has he done?

Marco lay panting and shuddering on the ground. A pool of blood was quickly forming around him, staining his skin and his clothes a bright crimson. He made no move to get up and his hands weren't healing. The dark-haired commander looked for the tell-tale sight of blue fire but it wasn't there and Marco wasn't getting up and the cuffs were off but he. Wasn't. Healing.

The teen gasped. What was going on? Did they miscalculate? What if the floor was seastone? The walls? Did he cut off his own brother's arms for nothing? This wasn't supposed to be happening. He promised. But now Marco was bleeding out on the floor and all he could do was watch because he caused it. He was supposed to protect his family. He was supposed to keep them alive, keep them here with him, alive. Because Sabo was dead and none of his brothers were supposed to die, not again, and they didn't deserve that but he did and instead Marco was dying because of him. Because Ace caused it. Because Ace hurt him. He mutilated him. He killed him.

Ace was shaking. He could feel the acrid taste of bile at the back of his throat and resisted the urge to throw up. A million thoughts raced through his head at lightning speed. All of them were dark and they tore at him from the inside. He wanted to scream. At the back of his mind, he knew that only a few seconds have gone by but it felt like hours.

And suddenly, a burst of blue fire sprang to life, illuminating the dark and miserable cell in a warm and brilliant cerulean. The teen's eyes widened as the fire grew, encompassing the cuts on both of the first mate's arms. The severed hands on the floor ignited as well. He watched, heart thumping in his chest, as they were slowly consumed by the flames only to rematerialize in their proper place on the commander's arms anew. Whole. Unscathed. The phoenix stirred and the younger pirate sighed deeply, not realizing he was holding his breath.

Once his hands fully formed, the commander pushed himself off the grimy floor and stood up. He brought his hands up and held his left wrist, testing out the mobility of the hand. He rotated his wrist, clenched his hand several times, and did the same with the other. Satisfied, he brought his hands up, palms out, for Ace to see.

"See? What did I tell you? Good as new," He said with a humorous smirk. "Good job."

"Marco…" His nakama didn't look amused. He looked like he had just seen a ghost. The teen grumbled something with a severe look on his face and all the commander could make out was the word 'pale.' The blond followed the younger's gaze which was focused on the ground and, consequently, the blood staining the concrete floor. He picked up on his brother's meaning and he smiled inwardly. The kid was worried about him. It would have been touching if it weren't completely unnecessary.

"You think I can regenerate a hand but not a little bit of blood?" Even then he could feel the familiar healing warmth of his phoenix flames burning through his veins and in his heart. "I'm fine. Thank you for going through with that. I know it wasn't easy. But stop worrying so much, yoi."

'Thank you?' The black-haired pirate felt a little ill. For what? He almost killed the man. He cut off his hands. And he was thanking him for it?

Ace stared at him, an unreadable expression on his face. Marco shrugged and with a swift kick shattered the iron restraints on his legs. He approached the younger pirate who was still collapsed on the floor and brought one sandaled foot down on the other's chains, breaking them apart easily. The cuffs on his hands would have to wait, however. Seastone was a fickle material; they would have to find the key for that one.

"Let's get the hell out of here, yoi."

With another kick, the door to the cell exploded outwards and the pair walked out and up the stairs, leaving the dark and bloodstained cell behind without looking back. They encountered the first two guards at the top and don't waste any time beating them to the ground. Marco grabbed one of the terrified officers by the front of his government-issued tunic and held him up in the air.

"Where is the key?" he asked simply and the man whimpered.

The other marine trembled under the heel of Ace's boot and uttered the marine captain's name, fear for his own life winning out over loyalty to his superior. The second commander scowled, Marco dropped the first officer, and the two hurried down the corridor of the base in search of Jirou. They weren't going to make this easy for them, were they?

The two guards at the entrance of their cell must have called for backup because as they turned around a corner, they were met by a battalion of armed officers with rifles trained on them. Before the marines could get any accurate shot in, however, Marco turned his arms into wings and tore through them with ease. Cursing his lack of powers, Ace followed slightly behind the first mate and took out the remaining men with well-aimed kicks. They fell into this pattern as they made their way through the base in what they assumed was the direction of the exit. The base was underground and as far as the Whitebeard Pirates remembered, there was only one way out: through the central lobby (a large circular chamber with corridors leading off of it to the different segments of the facility) and up the main staircase. It was in this main room that the two commanders ended up when the twisting hallway they were following suddenly ended.

"Hmm," Marco narrowed his eyes as they skidded to a halt and looked around them. The entrance at the top of the stairs was sealed shut with blast doors and the pirates were surrounded on all sides by a hundred or so heavily-armed marines. Apparently, the marines planned to stop them there.

"I don't know how you escaped, but you aren't going any further," Captain Jirou informed the pirates sternly. He proudly stood in the center of the lobby with his arms crossed over his chest, obviously trying to look as intimidating and impassable as possible. "Admiral Kizaru will be here any moment and I sure as hell won't let you get past me before that happens."

"The key," the first commander demanded, ignoring the Captain's charismatic proclamation.

"Huh?" The captain was taken aback at the pirate's lack of response. He noticed Fire Fist's hands still cuffed in front of him and smirked. He reached into his coat and produced a plain metal key ring with two keys hanging off it. "This key? You'll have to come take—"

And that's exactly what Marco did. Before the poor marine could finish his sentence, he was hit by a large claw straight in the chest. He coughed up blood as he was blasted into the staircase behind him. The keys flew from his hands and landed on the ground by the second commander's feet. As soon as the marines all around the room realized what happened, they trained their weapons on the two commanders and fired. Their attack was met by unyielding blue flames. Marco the Phoenix spread his wings, catching the incoming bullets and shielding his nakama from harm as the other undid the seastone cuffs.

"Damn pirates!" Jirou roared and got up from the crater his body made in the staircase, refusing to be knocked out without a fight. "You won't get away that easily!"

He pulled a large sword out from the sheath at his waist and charged at the first commander, aiming to kill. Marco raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed, and readied himself to intercept the attack.

He didn't have to. All of a sudden a column of bright orange flames blasted out from behind him and hit the charging captain directly, pushing the man back with the force of the blow. Portgas D. Ace emerged from behind the blue flames and strode into the middle of the room, frowning. The closest marines flinched back in fright as they recognized the killing aura that the commander gave off like the heat waves radiating from his skin. The man was pissed.

The temperature inside the enclosed lobby skyrocketed as the devil fruit user summoned his flames without holding back. The blast doors flew off their hinges at the force of the subsequent explosion and the marine soldiers were left ducking, rolling, and running for their lives, the smell of singed clothes, hair, and skin filling the ruined and smoldering chamber. As the smoke cleared, Marco reverted to his human form (having had to go full phoenix to avoid the flames) and face palmed at the destruction all around them. He couldn't decide whether he was annoyed or amused.

"Was that really necessary, yoi?"

Ace grunted in response. He stepped over Captain Jirou who lay collapsed and unconscious at the foot of the stairs and made his way up to the surface. Marco sighed and followed him out of the complex. They were ironically fairly close to the beach where they left their boat so they headed over there with all the intention of getting back to the Moby Dick before an Admiral showed up, if he was really supposed to. They didn't have any business left on the island anyways and the first mate insisted that they should avoid getting caught up in anything messy that could be avoided. Ace silently complied and refused to say a single word to the first commander the entire ride back to the ship.

"Look who's back! You guys are early," As soon as they climbed on board they were greeted by the sight of the fourth commander's pompadour hairdo and his naturally cheery smile. Something that Ace was entirely not in the mood for. "Get bored or something?"

The blond greeted Thatch warmly and was about to give him a non-committal answer (the whole story would wait until he officially reported to Whitebeard himself) when he noticed Vista striding across the deck looking quite stern. His expression brightened somewhat when he noticed the two commanders on deck.

"Oh, good. You're back," the fifth commander noted, relieved. "We were about to go after you two."

"We were?" Thatch inquired and Vista continued with an explanation.

"According to our sources, a marine battleship the under command of Admiral Kizaru landed on that island not two hours ago."

"Hmm," Marco shot Ace a look. The other crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "Close call then. That's around the time we left. Good thing we got away when we did, yoi."

With those words, he smiled and put his hand on the younger pirate's shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie. The teen jerked his shoulder away from the touch, not without notice by the fourth commander.

"Well, since you're back, we'll be heading out. There have been a few incidents with other pirates on the islands to the north that we need to check up on." Vista told them and headed off. Marco nodded in acknowledgment.

"I'll be in my cabin," Ace glared at the blond with an expression that clearly said 'I'm sick of your shit' and stormed off.

"Oh, he's pissed," Thatch commented and looked at the first mate accusingly. "What's gotten into him?"

"Nothing he won't get over," the phoenix huffed.

"Really?" The brunet asked incredulously. "Okay, what did you do to him?"

"…" Marco looked annoyed at the question and the pompadour-sporting commander took it as a sign that he wasn't getting an answer.

"Whatever it is, you should talk to him about it before the rest of us suffer because of it," Thatch advised before leaving him to report to the old man alone. He was likely hinting at the incident when the kid almost burned the ship down and singed Thatch's hair in the process. Marco sighed. What a pain.

Whitebeard looks displeased when Marco tells him about their capture and their close call with an admiral yet quickly gets over it since the two got back alive and unhurt. It happens. He frowned at the news that Kizaru was patrolling these waters but there was little to worry about. The admiral wouldn't go after the ship even though Whitebeard's men destroyed a marine base. It wasn't worth the fight. The blood coating the first commander's clothes and arms didn't escape his notice, however.

"You didn't tell me how you escaped," the captain frowned knowingly.

"It will take more than some seastone to take us down," the phoenix put his hands up in reassurance.

"Marco…"

"I did what I had to. It was better than getting caught by an admiral. Besides, I'm fine so don't worry, yoi," He was well aware of his father's look of disapproval. He's heard it before. Oyaji and Ace both. Seriously.

Whitebeard's frown didn't let up but he made no further remarks, allowing the first mate to launch into a recount of the commanders' mission prior to the incident with the marines.

Ace gave him the cold shoulder the rest of the night, even throughout dinner. When the second commander did look at him, it was to glare in his general direction. When this continued into the followingday and some of their crewmates started to notice, Marco decided that he'd had enough. Thatch's advice, to talk to the guy, seemed reasonable. Especially since Marco couldn't for the life of him understand exactly why the dark-haired pirate was this mad at him. Thus, there he was, knocking on the door to the second commander's cabin. It opened with a creak and the occupant glared at him predictably.

"We need to talk," Marco stated calmly and Ace let him into his room, shutting the door quietly behind them before plopping onto the bed without a word. Seeing as it was up to him to initiate the conversation, the blond started cautiously. "We can't keep ignoring this. I know you're pissed at me, and I can hazard a guess as to why, but it would be simpler if you just told me. Then we can work it out, yoi."

Ace remained stoic. He was pissed, so Marco better realize that coming to a resolution wouldn't be that easy. The phoenix sighed. Alright, we'll do this the hard way.

"Then I'm going to guess that you didn't agree with my decision in that cell. You thought there was another option."

The second division commander didn't reply.

"Then I want you to understand that there is a reason I did what I did in that cell. I had you cut off my hands because I honestly believe that was our best chance to get out of there alive, yoi." The first mate explained. His tone was as calm as ever: even, practical, and bordering on dispassionate. The younger pirate listened with his arms insolently crossed over his chest. "You're right. I've done it before. I knew I could handle it and I trusted you to carry through. I'm sorry that I put you in that position, knowing you weren't used to it and that it is quite shocking the first time around."

Ace raised an eyebrow. That was the understatement of the century, if there ever was one.

"But I don't regret my decision, yoi." Marco finished and Ace shook his head.

"What you did— what you made me do— that was wrong."

"Why was it wrong?"

"What do you mean why?!" Ace suddenly exclaimed, frustrated with the phoenix's seemingly philosophical question and his annoyingly cool, logical, and pragmatic view of cutting off his own limbs. He wasn't in the mood to discuss morality. Fuck morality. This was real. "Because it hurt you. It caused you pain. It's not right for a nakama to hurt a nakama no matter the circumstances!"

"Is that so?" Marco paused and looked at him levelly before continuing in that infuriatingly calm voice. "Then put yourself in my shoes. Tell me, would it still be wrong if you knew that if you didn't do that, we would have both been captured by an admiral, yoi? That we would have been sent to Impel Down, tortured to an inch of our lives, and then executed?"

Ace winced at the brutal honesty of the commander's tone. Trust Marco to think of the worst-case scenario.

"Is it still wrong if one of us died, knowing that you could have prevented it? Knowing that all you had to do was endure a momentary bit of pain? Knowing that in the end, you would get out unscathed? That you had that kind of power? That it didn't really matter?" The first mate stared at him expectantly. "Is it still wrong under those circumstances?"

"There could have been another way." He replied stubbornly and Marco groaned inwardly.

"You're not that naïve. I know you aren't. It's a hard lesson to learn, but sometimes victories require sacrifices, yoi. You have to give up something in return; it's selfish to assume otherwise. And in this case, the sacrifice wasn't even that high. You should count us lucky that my powers allow me to do that unharmed."

But you weren't unharmed! Ace and tried not to feel like he was being talked down to. He had enough condescending lectures from Garp and he sure as hell didn't need another one. Still, he couldn't help but flush slightly. He knew all that, dammit. He wasn't wrong, Ace told himself. He was justified in his anger. He glared at Marco and the other wondered for a second if his words were too harsh.

"That's not the point. How could you be so apathetic about cutting off your own hands? How could you ever think that was an option?" The dark-haired commander responded accusingly, avoiding using the word 'psychopath'. "You know, normal people wouldn't have been so calm in that situation."

"Normal people don't regenerate, yoi."

"I'm just saying that even though you do, it still hurt like a bitch, didn't it? And you knew that it would from the start. How were you so nonchalant about that?"

"Don't confuse my composure with indifference. Would it have been better if I was freaking out? Would it have made you feel better? Or convinced you that I wasn't crazy?"

"That's not what I meant," Ace scowled in annoyance. Obviously he wasn't getting through Marco's cold pragmatism. "The point is that you shouldn't be so used to this. To mostly anyone else, losing a hand would be traumatizing for life. The fact that you treat pain so lightly is disconcerting."

"Why is this such an issue?" Marco said with annoyance at having to repeat himself so often. He could tell the younger pirate was losing his cool. If they didn't settle this soon, they'd be worse off than before they started this conversation. "Like I already explained, I've had worse. And it's only temporary—"

"Because I don't like seeing my nakama in pain!" Ace shouted. "And I sure as hell don't want to be the one causing it!"

"Why does it matter? Sometimes sacrifices are necessary. And my body lets me do that with no lasting harm. I am made for this. So what if it hurts. If I can help the crew I will do it a thousand times over—"

"Because it matters to me!" Ace cried. "I don't know where the hell you got this idea, but the fact that you 'don't mind pain because you've experienced so much of it before' is not comforting. Who cares about your powers or how desensitized you are to pain! You are not a tool to be used for our benefit. You are human just like the rest of us. Just because you have that power, you shouldn't have to suffer for it."

Marco was speechless.

"Not to mention, all this self-sacrificing bullshit isn't as noble or justified as you think it is. It's selfish!"

"Selfish?!"The first commander exclaimed, snapping out of his reverie. What are you talking about, brat?!

"Your actions affect the people who care about you, you asshole. Don't you see? Or did you not take that into account when you ordered me to cut you apart? Doing that to you… watching you suffer and knowing I was the one who caused it…" The blood and the horror and suppressed cries of pain… Oh god. "That hurt me too!"

The first mate was taken aback.

"How do you think I felt before you started healing? Dammit Marco, I thought I broke the most important rule on the ship. I thought I killed a nakama! And the thought of having to come back to oyaji and the others and tell them how…" Ace trailed off, looking away bitterly.

"I…" Marco felt a pang of guilt at those words. He honestly didn't take that into consideration. Back in that cell, all he focused on was getting free. He assumed that if he was okay with it, Ace would be. He didn't think about how the younger pirate would react. "I didn't think—"

"And you thanked me for it," Ace cut him off and looked up, hurt in his eyes. "You thanked me for doing it, as if it was a good thing that I almost killed my brother."

The second commander's words felt like a punch in the gut. He fucked up. Massively.

"When I realized you were going to be fine, I wanted to strangle you for putting me through that," the second commander admitted. He could still see the brutal scene in his mind's eye. Marco, lying on the ground, shaking, bleeding out in front of him. He saw it every time he looked at the blond. He loath to admit it, but that was one of the main reasons behind his ire.

"Oh god, Ace," Marco whispered. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

The pained look on the Ace's face was heartbreaking. The guilt was overwhelming now. Without a moment's hesitation, the phoenix crossed over to his younger nakama and hugged him tightly.

"I thought you were going to die," Ace murmured and Marco clutched him tighter. "You're not allowed to die." Not before I do. Not my brother. Not again.

"I'm not going anywhere, yoi."

After several moments, Marco released the other commander. He stepped back and looked at him remorsefully, keeping one hand on the other's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry. I should never have put you in that situation. It wasn't fair to you. I didn't take your emotions into account. What you went through… I never meant for you to experience that. If I had known, I would never have…" The first mate trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. Never have done it? No. Never have been so callus? So cold? As he formed his apology, his heart felt heavy with the knowledge that that his brother cared for him, cared maybe even more than he himself did about what happened to him. "It was all my fault and I'm truly, deeply sorry,"

"I forgive you," Ace said softly. "Just promise me you will never do something that stupid ever again."

"I promise," His heart clenched with the knowledge that he would likely not be able to keep that vow, but Marco nodded anyways. Ace may have seen right through it. And maybe he may have realize that the first commander was partially right. Maybe he understood what it meant to do anything and everything he could to save a crewmate at any cost to himself. But somehow that simple agreement, even if it was only a charade, was enough for both of them.

Ace felt himself returning to his ordinary self as the image of Marco in his mind slowly reverted from the heavily bleeding form on the ground to the strong and definitely alive older brother smiling back at him.

"And if you ever try to pull that shit again, I'll kick your ass," The second commander threatened with a smirk and the phoenix smiled in return.

"I'd like to see you try, yoi."

.: The End :.

A/N: Oh, foreshadowing. I'm not even going to count how many times I referenced the themes from Marineford. I'm a terrible person. Speaking of which, Ace looks like quite the hypocrite in this fic. *is shot*

But seriously, I'm afraid I presented him as fairly OoC here. What do you think?

Thank you so much for reading and thank you doubly for leaving me a comment! I really appreciate all the constructive reviews. You guys are awesome and I love being part of this fandom! Let me know if you liked it, hated it, etc…! I'll probably be working on another angsty One Piece fic in the mean time!