Chapter Text
Responses to reviews at the bottom this time. Here's the second part, I hope everyone likes how it ends. And I finally made it to 60 stories! I'm so happy, I hope I can get to 100 some day. Enjoy~
Everything was dark and quiet. Almost comforting but suffocating at the same time. He heard whispers, but couldn't make out who it was or what they were saying. Or where they were. Where was he? He heard whoever it was crying, and wondered why. What was the problem? Was he not in the darkness either?
He started to hear more, the rocking creaking noise, but it was still dark and compacted. He couldn't smell or touch anything. He started to hear a pounding noise, though. Suddenly he was cold, like he'd been under a warm blanket and now it was pulled off to show he was on a winter island.
His head started pounding as he finally took in gasping breaths, heart beating rapidly in an uncomfortable way. The blackness was gone, just like that, and he found he was in his bed, tucked under the covers. Was it all a dream? Was he sleeping? Maybe he had a sleep attack and passed out.
The fire logia sat up and got off of the bed to go to the bathroom. He felt a little off, but nothing too serious. The mirror showed that his eyes were a little pink, but maybe it was something normal. Then he looked down, and saw he had a smear of red on his finger, and suddenly saw his face covered in blood and heard himself screaming for Marco.
Oh. He died again. Tears fell down his cheeks, slightly pink but mostly clear. It cleared out the red of his eyes, thankfully. He felt fine, like how he did the first time. This one took much less time than before. He didn't go through the whole process a second time, than goodnesss. Ace sighed, and wiped the tears. He looked down before going to put his shoes on and go find Marco and apologize for dying in his presence. It must have been very hard.
He walked to the galley and peeked his head in, but Marco wasn't there. So he headed to the office, and found his love there. Ace knocked on the doorway softly. Marco swiveled his chair and saw Ace there. He got up and rushed to him, hugging him tightly. Ace wrapped his arms around him as well. "I'm sorry," Ace said sincerely.
Marco sighed into his neck in relief. "It's not your fault," he said softly, kissing Ace's forehead.
"Still, you have to go through horrible things. Seeing me like that's a nightmare. I'm so sorry you had to see it," Ace replied. Marco kissed his cheek next, dotting light kisses across his freckles. "Will this become a regular thing?" he asked in worry.
Marco said he didn't know, but if it was, then they'd go through it together. Always together. Ace nodded, though it didn't make him feel much better. He didn't want to bleed like that often, ever again. It was scary and disturbing. "How did everyone else react?" he questioned.
His lover replied that he didn't tell anyone. Ace was surprised, since Marco rarely kept secrets from Pops. He mostly told the commanders things honestly, but always Pops. When Ace asked if he'd lied to their father and captain, Marco nodded, not looking regretful or guilty at all. "He didn't need to know. No one but the nurses should know. We should get some tests done."
Ace nodded, thinking that was a good idea. Maybe they could figure out why. Would this disease lurk in his body all the time, striking when it felt like? And would he continue coming back, or would he die permanently? He was scared, wondering if that dream about in the darkness was what happened after he died.
Marco led him to the infirmary as the younger was lost in his thoughts. Morbid, scary thoughts about his deaths. Or his temporary deaths. It was too bad this didn't happen to Sabo. Maybe he could have lived on happily. They could have all set out together. But if he had set out with Sabo, then he would not be where he was today. He wouldn't have Pops or Marco.
He was jolted out of his thoughts when they entered the infirmary. Tami greeted them, and Ace went to the bed he knew he'd died on, even if there was a new mattress and clean sheets.
"What's up? Your check up isn't for another couple hours," she said curiously. Ace looked to Marco to explain.
"He died again." Tami's eyes widened and she called Whiskey to them from her office. She saw Tami's worried and freaked out face and hers grew hard and determined to not freak out by whatever the lower ranking nurse thought. "Ace died again. For a couple hours," Marco repeated.
Whiskey let out a sigh. "This makes no medical sense. I don't know what to say or do. I think drawing some more blood would be good. If there's a next time, come as fast as you can. I want to monitor brain activity," the nurse said, sounding tired.
Ace looked down, feeling guilty for worrying his family. Marco asked Whiskey to not tell anyone but Pops. They knew the nurses couldn't keep a thing this huge secret from the captain. They kept things like mental health confidential, but all wounds and injuries were well documented and given to Pops. Usually Marco saw them, too, but not always. And he never spread what he was told.
Whiskey wrote down everything, including Ace's account of things as well as Marco's, and the findings in his blood that they'd still been analyzing. Ace asked if they should tell Pops in person, and Marco said they should and do it in private.
"Ace, I'd consider taking a handkerchief around with you, just in case it happens where you can't wipe it away. It wouldn't stop the bleeding, but it could cover your face. I know from first hand experience how horrible it was to see you like that," Whiskey said kindly.
Ace looked down. "I saw it firsthand, too. I don't want anyone else to see it. I'll carry a rag around with me." Everyone in the room looked at him with sympathy, couldn't imagine seeing themselves in the state he was in. Twice now, though he hadn't seen it the first time. He still didn't remember most of being sick after having the cold-like symptoms. Marco took his hand and the folder with Ace's medical files in it, and they headed to lunch to fetch Pops. Ace wasn't very hungry, even though he'd missed breakfast. He had no appetite.
When they entered the galley, Whitebeard looked up and locked eyes with Marco, who subtly turned his head to the side and left the huge room. The man got up, though it wasn't something he could do subtly, without a word and left the galley. Some commanders stared after him. Wondering why he was leaving while he had so much food left to eat.
Marco led the captain to the meeting room, where Ace sat down in his assigned chair. They were all comfortable to sit in, which was nice since some meetings lasted hours. Too long, honestly, to be sitting at a table. By the end of them, everyone was stiff and sometimes Ace had fallen asleep. They always laughed at him, but there was nothing he could do about it.
He gruesomely wondered if he would die, but it looked like he had a sleep attack, so everyone ignored it. Until blood started to pool around his face, seeping into the cracks of the Moby's wood floors. He shook his head, not wanting to think of such things. He clasped his hands together on the table.
"So, what is wrong, sons?" Pops asked. Marco never beat around the bush so he wasn't going to start now.
"Ace died again. But he woke up," he said simply, honestly. Pops looked so upset before he brought back the face he made when he was serious but not angry. That face was made when he attacked him with an axe from behind back in his assassination days. He sat down, and Marco followed, all three sitting in their usual seats.
Whitebeard asked, "What happened?" Ace bit his lip, not wanting to explain it. He didn't want to think about it anymore, but it was all he could think about. He couldn't think about the prank he was going to play with his more immature buddies. All he thought about was dying.
"Ace was sleeping, and when he woke up, he was in the bathroom and bleeding. He shouted at me to take him to the nurses. He died on our way there. I sort of hid him in our room, didn't want people to be upset again. I had a gut feeling that he would come back again. A couple hours later, he came to my office," Marco said, getting it all out on the table so there were no understandings about the situation.
Pops wasn't happy that Marco kept such a thing hidden, but he had obviously been right. And everyone was already so protective of him, monitoring his every action, that they didn't need it to increase in intensity. Ace had stayed quiet for the whole thing. "I'm so sorry, son," he said sincerely. Ace sniffled once and then said, "Stupid bat."
Marco rubbed circles on his back. Ace wanted them to tell him everything would be fine, that he'd go back to normal. But he knew that was a promise they could not make. They didn't know, nobody knew. And they couldn't let anyone outside of the crew find out. The government would try to have him as an experiment. Maybe try to replicate whatever happened to his body to cause it to come back to life after a prolonged death.
Would things ever make sense? Probably not, they'd probably find no answer. But what they could do was find the pattern. Hopefully be able to predict when this would happen, if it continued to happen. He put his head in his hands with a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry I've caused so much stress for everyone. Tami and Whiskey were being nice. I really freaked them out," he lamented.
Pops leaned forward to put his arms on the table. "No one is mad at you. No one thinks you did this on purpose. I can assure you of that, son. This family loves you, it was clear by what the reaction to your passing was, but they won't hold this against you. It isn't as if you wanted this to happen," he reasoned. Ace nodded, though his guilt was not quelled.
"I'm scared it will happen a lot. Like, my body will fail and reset again, and I'll bleed from my face again," Ace said, and shuddered at the memory of his face, eyes and nose bleeding.
Marco sighed. But Pops spoke, "That is a very valid concern, and we'll do everything we can to find a solution to reverse or at least mitigate it. If it continues to happen, we have no way to fix it, but we can find out. Maybe find some pattern." He had said what Ace had just been thinking. It was impressive.
He nodded, and pushed his hair out of his face with a sigh, leaning back in his chair. "I really hope this doesn't make me have to resign from my position." Marco and Whitebeard were baffled, and the latter asked what he was talking about. "I'll be a danger to the crew and my division if we're in a mission or battle and I die. They'd have to protect my body while also fighting. I'd be a nuisance," he explained.
Marco shook his head. "You won't lose your position. Besides you make things work with your narcolepsy, don't you?" he asked. That was true, but Ace didn't have sleep attacks that lasted hours. More like a couple of minutes. "Besides, it would be a great way to throw off your enemies."
Ace knew he was trying to lighten the mood but it didn't work and Ace shot him a look. He sighed again. Pops spoke next, quietly, hesitantly. "Do you remember what happened while you were gone?" He didn't say "dead" even though he had been, twice.
Ace shook his head. "I don't remember it, only waking up. It's dark and silent but then I start to hear things, and I'm awake. It's just like waking up in the morning. It's definitely not like falling asleep," he added in a strong voice. He looked up and saw Pops was wrestling with another question. Ace could guess what it was.
"Can I ask how it felt? When you were passing?" the man asked slowly. It was not often they heard hesitation or uncertainty in his voice. Ace was going to answer truthfully. He didn't like lying to Pops, even though it was a personal question.
"Well, I don't remember most of my sickness the first time. I had a cold, then I woke up in a body bag. I don't remember any of the messy parts. But the last time… my head started to hurt, first. I went to the bathroom and felt a pressure behind my eyes. My nose started bleeding first, then built up my throat. Then my eyes bled last."
Pops visibly flinched and closed his eyes with a pained expression. "You asked," Ace pointed out.
"I know. I just can't imagine - don't want to imagine - how scared you must have been. We're pirates, we risk death every day of our lives. Most of us don't have the displeasure to die more than once, though." Both Marco and Ace nodded in agreement.
Ace immediately slammed his face into the table with no warning, and both men in the room shot up and ran over, only to hear snoring. Marco made sure there was no blood on his face. The two shared a heavy sigh of relief. Pops put his hand on Marco's shoulder. Now that Ace was asleep, Marco could truly let go of his emotions. He didn't cry easily, but he did now, and the captain brought him into a hug.
-x-
"Ahhh!" pirates screeched as they came out of their rooms. The three trouble making commanders were in the broom closet chuckling. Shouts of fear were heard, and then the three heard Marco coming, asking what the hell they were freaking out about. Thatch grew pale and locked the door, which for some reason had a lock on the inside and not outside.
The three silenced until foot steps walked past the door and then stopped. They all held their breaths before there was a lazy knock on the door. "Care to explain the footprints all over the ceiling and walls?" he asked through the door.
"You have the wrong people," Thatch said in a high voice. Haruta scolded him, since there was no woman who would be in that part of the ship. "Ooooh," he said, trying to make a ghost noise.
"I'm am not stupid, Thatch. Just come out and clean up your mess," Marco said in a bored voice. Thatch huffed and opened the door, all three of them coming out of the closet, looking like kicked puppies. Marco didn't play favorites and scolded Ace as well.
The night before, the three had done the prank Ace had told them about. They wasted about three big bottles of baby powder on their prank. It had Ace balancing on his hands on Thatch's hands as he walked his powdered covered feet along the ceiling to create footprints. Ace had to say it was a great idea, and he was proud of it. Then they had put creepy powdered handprints on every door. Ace was bummed they weren't able to enjoy it for long.
Pirates crowded around them angrily, and Ace just laughed. "Sorry, sorry. It was all in good fun," he said, hands up in a peaceful gesture. "We'll clean it up real fast." Marco huffed and then shooed everyone to disperse.
The past five eight days had been back to normal for Ace. He hadn't died again, though he now called it a "reset" because it made him feel better than throwing around "death" and "died". People had stopped worrying about him too much, so that was nice. He went for regular check ups with the nurses, mostly with Marco since he wanted to know everything first. He was stressed after the whole mess started, but it was tapering off. But he and Ace both knew anything could change at a moment's notice.
Ace burned off the powder easily. "There! All better," he said in a chipper voice. Thatch and Haruta pat him on the back, happy they didn't have to wipe down all the halls they spent that night doing. Ace had snuck out of their room while Marco was sleeping to rendezvous with his fellow pranksters.
Marco sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What am I gonna do with you? You're all adults."
Ace crossed his arms. "I refuse to call myself an adult until I want to call myself an adult," he declared. "Besides, you appointed me when I was a teenager, you know. You knew what you were getting yourself into," he grinned. Thatch ruffled his hair from behind.
"And it's a good thing you can be responsible when necessary. So, what I came here to do was to tell you three that a commanders' meeting was scheduled for 3:30. Ace, you'll be doing a briefing on how the navigation is doing with supplies," Marco said. "Thatch will do the same with the kitchen, and Haruta will do the intelligence."
Thatch added, "So, in birdspeak, it will be a boring meeting?"
Marco glared at him but didn't bite, and nodded. So, it was a meeting regarding stock of various supplies and equipment. The navigators were needing new mapping pens, since many were old and becoming unusable. New ones would be a great help.
The three commanders walked to their hall with the offices to get the information ready. It was 2:30. Meetings like this also would show if they'd been keeping up with their own duties, since the documents needed to be ready already. They couldn't rush to get them done if they hadn't.
Ace shared his office space with Thatch since neither of them had their supplies or equipment that stayed there. Marco had his own big office space since he was first mate. Ace had enjoyed a romp with him there once, seeing how good at multitasking Marco was.
He was pretty bad at it.
"I wish we had fun meetings. Parties. Not boring stuff like this," Thatch complained, both of them holding packets of things they needed to address. Thatch's was much smaller than Ace's. It was going to be a long meeting, and he couldn't promise to stay awake for the whole thing. When he was bored, the narcolepsy acted up. Everyone thought it was funny.
Well, besides Marco. He freaked out every time Ace passed out, and he could understand why. But he didn't want him to worry, things were going good now.
When the commanders all met at the meeting room, they each had some sort of packet, even though many were very thin. The ones with the most were Curiel and Haruta. Poor guys. They entered the room and sat in their assigned seats, ordered around the large round table in numbered order. So Ace was between Marco and Jozu.
Pops came in and sat down. "I know this is going to be a boring meeting, but it is necessary. We'll go around the table counter clockwise." Great, Ace was second to last. He couldn't nap it all out.
He wasn't the only one bored, Thatch and Haruta both had their face propped up by a hand. When they finally got to Ace, he was so tired. But he had to do his part as the head of the navigation division. He stood and started to list off what supplies they were in need of. Mapping pens, ink, paper since a few of the navigators who weren't the best made a lot of mistakes in mapping islands properly. And you couldn't erase ink.
He started feeling the phantom liquid above his lip, but he was used to the feeling by now that he didn't pay much attention to it. Namur stopped him. "What?" he asked, irritated he was interrupted. His head was starting to hurt, and he wanted to finish and then just succumb to the sleep attack.
"Your nose is bleeding," he pointed out. Marco looked at him in fear, but Ace gave him a reassuring smile, even if it was shaky.
"I'm fine. Let me continue," he insisted, but Pops stopped him. "I'm okay, let me finish and then I'll go to the infirmary," he said. He took a few deep breaths, trying to hold it off, seeing how much he could resist. "My second in comm-" he started to say and coughed out blood, all over his damn papers.
Shouts of his name were heard around the room, and he hit the table hard. He was coherent enough to take the rag out of his pocket and cover his face. No one else had to see the blood coming from his eyes.
This time, he was unafraid. He had a feeling he'd wake up again, perfectly fine. He just wished it hadn't happened in front of others, it would worry and disturb them. "I'm o-okay," he insisted, turning on his side to vomit out blood. He felt Marco gripping his hand. No one took the rag off, and he lost all sight and sound around him. The last thing he felt was Marco bringing him into his arms.
Ace was dead. Everyone stared in shock before they started screaming. Marco kept the rag on Ace's face, rocking him. Pops stood, and though he had tears in his eyes, he knew about it already from Marco and Ace telling him not only a few days ago. Eight days again, like the last time. Did it happen every eight days? That piece of information needed to be known.
Pops calmed everyone while Marco brought Ace to the infirmary. Whiskey wanted to see him wake up, do some tests. He left chaos in the meeting room as Pops worked to explain the situation to his panicking sons.
"Oh, Ace. I'm so sorry," Marco said, holding him close to his chest. He walked up the stairs with Ace in his arms, and when people asked if he had another sleep attack, Marco angled himself to block the sight of blood all over his neck and face.
"Yeah, in the middle of the meeting, too," he said in a surprisingly strong voice. He was impressed, and not too much later reached the infirmary. "Whiskey," he called, and laid Ace on the bed.
The head nurse came out and immediately got to work with putting monitors on Ace and wires around his head. It was not a nice sight, and Marco got to work cleaning his face. "It happened in the commanders' meeting," Marco said in a flat voice, holding Ace's limp hand tightly. "Now everyone will know and no one will treat him the same."
Whiskey put her hand on his shoulder. "I just want him to be happy. I want us to fix what's wrong with him. I want things to go back to how they were." Marco realized he was whining, but it was true. He wished things were how they had been. For Ace especially. It was selfish for him to want things to be back to make him feel better.
It was worse for Ace in some ways. Now that they knew it would be a recurring thing, he'd worry about it happening anywhere. Whiskey said nothing, but gave him physical comfort, sitting next to him and taking his hand. "Things aren't going to go back to normal. Ace will always have died. That experience will be with him and all of us the rest of our lives. All we can do is help him and move forward."
Marco nodded and leaned against Whiskey's shoulder, a show of vulnerability that had her surprised. But they both had something in common. They'd both watched Ace die. They'd both seen the light leave him, seen the blood and tears.
It was an hour later when the machines started to work. The heart monitor slowly picked up. One beat a whole minute, then 45 seconds, then half a minute, until it was beating back to normal. What was interested were the brain scans that showed up on the monitor. Parts of Ace's brain were dark while others lit up. Eventually all of them were working, though not all at the same time.
Ace slowly opened his eyes, and looked around, clearly confused. "Where?" he asked, before he said, "Infirmary?" Marco nodded, and put his hand on Ace's cheek. Ace thought he'd just fallen asleep, but then remembered the last moments before his third death. He brought his hands to his face. Everyone knew now.
"I wanna see everyone, let them know I'm okay," he said. When he tried to get up, Whiskey pushed him back down. Ace frowned at her in a questioning way.
"I want you to stay in bed for now. Get your body back to functioning normally. The commanders can come here, they all fit with extra space," the nurse said sternly. Ace didn't question it, and laid back down. Marco offered to go get everyone, kissing Ace's forehead before leaving. "I'm sorry this has happened, Ace. I assume it's very scary."
Ace nodded and thanked her for that. "But we're seeing a pattern now. eight days apart. Maybe that will be constant, and I'll be prepared in eight days. Maybe I can be somewhere comfortable when it happens," he said, lost in thought. It would be so much better if he was laying in bed when it happened. Maybe he could be given a sedative so he wasn't awake when it happened. He wouldn't feel the blood, see it smeared on his fingers.
"I think that's a good idea. In eight days, we'll set you up in your room. It'll be much more peaceful and quiet than here." Ace nodded in agreement. Well, at least now that had some constants. eight days was a constant, the blood was a constant, the feeling of his head hurting before was constant, and the amount of time he stayed dead was constant as well. Constants were making Ace feel better about the situation.
He still regret ever eating a stupid bat. Very much, but he couldn't undo that. It was lucky that Whiskey asked about what he ate so they knew it was from bats. Ace hated them now. Why did they carry so many diseases? It was crazy! But he was just so glad his illness was not contagious. Imagining everyone dying in the way he had the first time was awful. They'd have dead bodies everywhere. Pops was old, whether anyone liked to acknowledge it or not, and the sickness could have killed him in much less time than it had taken Ace to.
Nobody knew if they would come back to life as well, or if it was just that way for Ace. And nobody was going to test it out. Soon, a huge group came in, the commanders and captain. Thatch, Izo, Haruta and Vista ran to his side, and Thatch and Haruta started blubbering into the sheets.
"Thought you we-were dead!" Haruta sobbed, with Thatch nodded his own tearful face.
"I'm sorry we kept it a secret. We didn't want to worry you. I don't want anyone being overprotective because of this, y'know?" Thatch and Haruta glared at him. "Is it too much to ask to try and make things as normal as they can be? It's not just scary for you guys."
His fellow pranksters lost their anger. "So, will this happen more?" Vista asked, twirling his mustache. Ace shrugged and Marco answered better.
He crossed his arms and said, "He died eight days after the initial incident, and then today was eight days later. Hopefully that is constant. Not ideal, but constant. It's unpredictable already, so we just want it to be as certain as possible you know? Not be taken by surprise."
The others nodded, and Pops asked how Ace felt. "I feel good." Thatch asked the question they were probably all wondering. He asked what it was like to die. After all, it had happened to him three times already.
Ace looked down, trying to word this right. "It's like falling asleep only faster. You're there one moment and then you're not. It's like I close my eyes and a blink later I'm alive. It takes a bit to wake up fully. Sounds come, sound of my heartbeat, then other sounds around me. Sight comes last. It's not a bad feeling to die, it's bad how I die. I hate it," he said, balling his fists in the sheets. "I'm sorry I messed up the meeting. And I got blood all over my papers," Ace grumbled irritatedly.
Namur scolded him and said, "You should have gone to the infirmary and not be stubborn about finishing your report." Ace frowned but Marco was there, of course, to defend him.
"It's not like getting there any quicker is going to stop it. He was trying to do as much as he could before he would be out of action," he replied, a bit heatedly. Ace smiled and yawned, before laying back against the pillows. He warned them that a sleep attack was coming, and then promptly fell asleep, snoring lightly.
Haruta pushed his hair out of his eyes, wearing a sad look. "I feel bad for him." The others nodded in agreement. They could see the barely there traces of blood in the crevices of his eyes. "He's handling it well."
Izo said, "I was thinking that, too. If it were me, I'd be much more bothered. I'd be afraid of never waking up. But that stubborn brat still continued his presentation even as his face bled. You can say what you want about his immaturity, but he's a good commander."
The words they all thought but didn't say was, "Ace is irreplaceable." For many ways, not just that he was perfect for the second division. Ace was the youngest, and possibly brightest, brother. He was also irreplaceable for Marco. The Whitebeards had never seen him adore someone as much as he did the fire-user.
The whole situation was unfortunate and messed up. "Why don't we finish what's left of the meeting in here?" Pops suggested. It was only Ace's and Marco's reports that had been unfinished. Ace's was a problem, as most of his documents had blood on them. Poor kid would have to rewrite most of them.
Well, his brothers would help him out. After all, it wasn't as if he was slacking and that's why they needed to be rewritten. So they carried on the meeting, which was just Marco and him reading aloud what was legible of Ace's report. It didn't take long, and by the end, Ace was back awake, watching them sleepily.
He felt perfectly fine, if not emotionally exhausted. He kept the facade up, that he was fine and unafraid. It was only the nurses and Marco who knew how he really felt about dying. Marco since he had been with Ace when he was begging to not die again. Whiskey and Tami had seen his last moments, the first time around, how he was scared and missing his family.
He was afraid. Very much, and didn't want his happy life to change, to have this happen consistently. It made no sense, and while he was glad he wasn't permanently dead, why did he have to have it so many times? Why did his body need to die and then reset to continue to live? The disease, or diseases, were still in his body, but not seeming to cause any trouble.
So what was causing this? And how could they stop it? Could they even, or was there nothing to do about it besides accepting it as the new norm? Ace sighed, balling his hands in the bed sheets. It was scary and maddening. But he wouldn't break in front of others. He hated making them worry about him. He knew they wouldn't stop, but that didn't mean he liked it.
The commanders were done with the meeting, and wished Ace to feel better while Thatch and Haruta stayed there with the couple. Marco was sitting in a chair next to the bed Ace was laying on, holding his hand. It was quiet except for Thatch promising they'd have a party sometime that week.
"That's right, I never got my feast!" Ace said, remembering something in the back of his mind about being told he'd have a feast. The three looked confused at him. Marco asked how he remembered that. "I sometimes have little snippets of memory. Someone's voice or something. Not big flashbacks, but tiny things, kind of like dejavu."
The other three looked grateful that he still didn't remember the initial sickness. They'd been told how his last moments were and they weren't pretty. They hoped he'd never go through that again. "I wish we could purge that stupid disease out of you," Thatch complained with a pout.
Ace sighed. "Well, there's not a way to. If it can't be burned away, then I don't think it's gonna go away if we want it to. God, it all started because I ate something I shouldn't have. Biggest mistake of my life." He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Thatch asked if he was sure he was okay. "I have eight days left, right?"
Marco frowned, but it was the best bet. The pattern matched twice. Eight days before the next time. And now that they could predict it, they could make Ace comfortable next time it happened. Laying in bed, or preferably having been given something to put him to sleep so he didn't need to be awake for it.
Ace put on a new shirt, since his had been ruined from the blood, and then went to use the bathroom. Marco stood in the infirmary, head down and eyes shadowed. This wasn't fair. What did Ace ever do to have this happen to him? Surely not everyone dies and comes back to life like this? And while he was immensely grateful that Ace had a second chance, wasn't it a bit much to have it repeat, over and over?
How long would this last? Would he die every eight days for the rest of his life? He was only twenty, he had so much longer to live. Well, in the long run. His mini deaths didn't count as real deaths. Though, if this was the only way for it to continue, then Marco would accept it, and everyone else would need to as well.
Marco would try and come up with a cure, but he didn't know where to even start. How to rid his body of a disease that was in his bloodstream and cells? Thatch put a hand on his shoulder, startling Marco out of his thoughts. "He'll get through it. We all will, and if it continues to happen, we'll watch out for him and make it as easy as we can," the chef said seriously. Marco nodded and thanked him. "We're family, and we'll do anything to help him."
-x-
Ace sat at the table in the galley, staring at his tea. It was the eighth day, and for the past week, everyone had been staring at him. Not in a mean way, but more like worry, like he'd drop dead at any moment. He didn't know what time it would come, and it was before breakfast. Thatch wasn't even up yet. Ace had made the tea. Marco was in the shower.
Why did this have to happen? He shook his head, wanting to not think that way. He'd been doing that enough for the past eight days. He downed the drink, the boiling water not hurting him, and then put the mug in the sink. He sighed, and made his way back to his and Marco's bedroom. He got there when Thatch was just leaving his room. Ace said nothing and didn't make eye contact when he opened the bedroom door and gently closed it behind him. Whiskey would be giving him a sedative later. They didn't know when it would happen, since the last two times hadn't been constant. Hell, it might not even happen today. It could happen another day, or maybe not at all.
But he wasn't optimistic enough to think it was over. Marco had just gotten out of the shower with a towel around his waist. Ace was so depressed he didn't even want the towel to accidentally slip off. He laid down on the bed, legs still over the side. Marco put pants on and then sat next to Ace.
"You'll be comfortable this time," he said simply. Even Marco didn't feel any hope. Ace turned on his side and buried his face in the pillow, only to then shove it away, he didn't want to ruin the pillow with any blood. Marco put his hand on Ace's cheek and turned his face. "And you'll be asleep. It'll be just like falling asleep, and I'll clean you up afterwards, so it really will be like you fell asleep. Right?"
Ace nodded. Marco said he was going to go get Whiskey now. It hadn't happened at night, around midday, so hopefully that was a constant. Ace got up once he left and got a towel to place under his head. He was glad he wouldn't have to feel or see it. He settled down, and pulled the blankets up over him, just to his pecs so no blood would stain them. He didn't want to make a mess.
Not long after, Whiskey and Marco came in, closing the door behind them. "You'll fall asleep very quickly, and if Marco isn't in the room for some reason, I want you to come to the infirmary, okay?" the nurse asked, gaining a nod from Ace.
Whiskey injected him with the anesthesia, a strong dose for however long it was until it started. Ace called it a reset, not a death. Or mini-deaths, as some were calling them. He didn't like the word. It meant nothing to him anymore, but he still didn't like it.
He fell asleep quickly, with Marco in sight, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. "Sweet dreams, baby," he said, and everything went dark, and Ace was blissfully unaware.
"You can go, I'll be fine. I've seen it twice already," Marco said in a flat voice. He didn't want anyone else in there with them. He wanted to be alone with Ace, not want him to have an audience. He already didn't want Marco in there, but the older man had flat out refused not being with him, even if Ace was asleep.
Whiskey looked hesitant before nodding, reminding him to bring Ace to the infirmary once he was awake. Marco nodded, and Whiskey left the room, closing the door quietly and making it dark inside besides the light coming from the window.
It took around an hour for it to start, and when blood began to drip from Ace's nose, he turned his head to the side so the blood from his mouth would come out and he wouldn't choke on it. The dark liquid pooled on the pillow, seeping from his face until his ragged breathing slowly ceased, and he was completely still.
Marco couldn't help the tears, but quickly got to work. He had a washcloth and a bucket of water, and began wiping the blood off of his face and trying to get it out of his hairline before it crusted. He switched out the towel beneath his head, which was ruined, soaked with blood that wouldn't come out even if they bleached it.
He opened Ace's unseeing eyes and dripped water in them to try and get all of the blood out. It looked like he was crying pink tears as the blood cleared. By the end, he looked perfectly normal, although he'd need to brush his teeth and spit all of the blood still in his mouth out. Marco stayed with him for the four hours, silent and just staring at his feet, sitting with his back hunched over.
When Ace's fingers and toes twitched, Marco jerked around to watch. His body was moving before he started breathing, gasps that shook his whole body before he calmed, breathing normally. His eyes finally opened, hazy before he blinked a couple times and became aware. Marco was holding his hand, and Ace sat up slowly, looking absolutely exhausted.
"Morning, sunshine," Marco said. Ace smiled, but Marco flinched from the blood covered teeth. Ace tasted the blood in his mouth and scowled. Marco helped him up off of the bed and into the bathroom. He was a bit slow, but was able to walk on his own. Whiskey could wait, he wanted Ace awake and functioning before walking out in front of everyone, who knew what day it was. Ace rinsed out his mouth and used mouthwash until there was no more blood and it didn't taste of it anymore.
They headed to the infirmary, Marco holding Ace's hand. He was still tired, but was awake enough to walk fine. When they walked through the ship, everyone asked how he was. Marco answered the questions, just saying he had been asleep. It was painless when he was asleep, so that was a great idea, and they'd keep doing that for however many times it happened after this one.
Eight more days, and repeat. Ace was looking really down as he had his check up, taking his blood pressure, temperature, heart rate, etc. Thatch walked in halfway through it, carrying a tray of sauteed chicken over rice, Ace's favorite dish. Ace looked up at the smell and smiled. Whiskey even allowed him to eat in there, which was usually a no-no unless you were bedridden.
They were talking quietly before there was a crashing sound as Haruta slammed into the infirmary door. The others all looked at him in shock and silence. He had a bloody nose, but was grinning, waving a piece of paper around. "I might know the cure!" he shouted excitedly.
Whiskey was on him in a moment. "Do not promise a cure to anything unless it is set in stone!" she shouted angrily. Haruta was shocked, but they all knew why. Ace and Marco's hopes skyrocketed in a fraction of a second. Haruta nodded, quelled by the head nurse, who stomped into her office to file away Ace's medical documents.
"So… a cure?" Ace fished carefully.
Haruta handed him a bounty poster of a man with bags under his eyes and a white spotted hat. "Who's this?" Ace asked. What was so important about this guy?
"I was searching devil fruits, and there is one called the ope-ope. It could probably get rid of your disease, all of it. But someone ate it! The marines had it slip through their fingers. Then there was an incident at Water 7, where this guy appeared. He ate the ope-ope fruit, meaning he can cure your sickness. Whiskey said it's still a disease, so he could treat it. I already told Pops, and we're steering to the Red Line to wait outside of Fishman Island for him to pop up!" Haruta explained excitedly.
Marco sighed. "And how will we get a Paradise rookie to lend us his power?" Ace had the same question as he ate his food Thatch had brought, who had been unexpectedly silent. Usually he'd be super excited. Maybe he was realizing he shouldn't get his hopes up, like Marco and Ace had.
"Offer him as a subordinate crew. Or an ally," Haruta replied instantly. "Pops said whatever we need to do, we'll do it." Marco looked to his lover, whose eyes were shadowed by his hat. He looked upset.
"I don't want to be a burden," he said, surprising everyone. "We don't just offer to be an ally to a stranger crew. What if he asks for more, or just refuses? Then what?"
Thatch answered immediately. "We kill him and find the ope-ope fruit once it reforms." Marco and Haruta nodded. "You're not a burden, Ace. We all love you, of course we want you to be happy and healthy." Ace sniffled, drying his eyes by heating his face up.
He was clenching his hands in his shorts. "I wish I didn't eat everything. But what if this has nothing to do with the disease anymore? What if it's, like, the only way I can live? What if my body is just dying, and every reset is making it so I live eight more days? What if that's the only way for me to continue to survive?"
Marco easily replied, "Well, once we find him, then we'll know." But he was bothered by what Ace said. What if this really was the only way he could live? And what if trying to somehow purge the disease from him would kill him permanently? He shook his head, not wanting to think about that.
As he resumed eating and soon finished his meal, Whiskey came out with the okay for him to leave. "Next time, I still want you to come in for a check up. And I want you to take these pills before bed," she said, putting a plastic bottle of white pills in his hand. "It will help with anxiety. Much of the crew is prescribed to it, especially those with PTSD."
Ace nodded, and stood up, wanting to leave. He went to find Pops with Marco, wondering what they were really going to do about Trafalgar Law. What kind of man was he? Ace had not heard of him before, but then again, the only person in Paradise he paid attention to was his brother. He didn't want to see Luffy while he was like this. He didn't want Luffy to ever find out, or he'd worry about him. Ace didn't want his little brother worrying about him while he was on his adventures.
The moment Whitebeard came into view, on his throne out on deck, Ace asked, "Are we really going to Fishman Island to wait?" Whitebeard laughed and nodded.
"Haruta's intel says the brat uses a submarine. A chase underwater would be pointless, so we'll alert those of Fishman Island to keep a look out. Of course, he could always just bypass getting coated, but Namur will stay under to keep watch. No matter how long we wait, getting you fixed up matters most."
Ace swallowed down a lump in his throat, and nodded. Marco was there, and kissed his forehead. "We're family," he said simply, and Ace nodded. He still felt bad for causing so much stress for his brothers. Seeing him die, losing him, then the commanders seeing him as a bloody mess. Felt bad for all of Pops' stress, no doubt. It was all because he ate a stupid bat.
But that explained the death, not the resets. What was the reason? Would he ever find out? Well, it didn't matter, as long as it went away. As long as things went back to how they were before. He walked to the railing, wondering if this would work. They would have to be lucky to catch Law in time, and if he used a submarine as his ship, then only Namur would be able to reach him.
A warm hand was put on his back, and he sighed at Marco's touch. "It's already lucky you're alive. A little more luck should be allotted considering what happens every eight days," he said simply. Ace nodded, composing himself.
Concerned pirates watched from all parts of the deck. He hated it, and turned around. "I'm fine, everyone. I have eight days left."
The crew didn't seem any more relaxed, but they seemed to understand he didn't want them to be so obvious about it, and they went back to their tasks, only discreetly staring. Ace noticed it, but he was grateful they were doing their best to not bother him. He'd be worried and paranoid if one of them died over and over, too.
-x-
"I'm sorry I haven't been intimate in awhile," Ace said before bed six days after his latest reset. Marco was changing into pajamas, while Ace was already in sleep pants and sitting on their bed. The blonde was shocked. It was very out of the blue, but it had been bothering Ace for a couple days. He was never in the mood, and he didn't know if Marco wanted to because he hadn't said anything about it.
He sat down next to Ace and smiled. "Baby, I'm fine with not being intimate for a couple weeks. That is at the bottom of my priority list right now," he assured him. Ace nodded, but was still growing.
"...But I'm always sad or distracted," he added.
"You were terminally ill, Ace. Even if you had gotten past that, it would still leave a lasting impression. Baby, you've died four times, in the span of a couple weeks. Anyone would be an emotional mess, and personally, I think you're doing very well. But it's just us now. You don't need to be strong for everyone. I can be your weak spot," Marco said softly, and Ace started crying.
"I don't wanna do this anymore," he lamented. Marco knew what he meant. Ace wasn't tired of living, but tired of the stress, anxiety and pain of resetting.
Marco gathered him in his arms and under the covers. He kissed his neck. "I know, baby. I know," he said gently, spooning Ace and rubbing soft circles on his bare chest. "You're doing so good, so brave. You're amazing, Ace."
"No more bats," Ace said sleepily. Marco chuckled and agreed, "No more bats."
-x-
Ace rubbed the area under his nose, feeling the phantom wetness that had become regular. He always felt like he was resetting, even though he'd been asleep through them the last two weeks. And the anxiety pills helped him sleep. But he was still fearful of the future. He didn't want to die. Not permanently. He was deathly terrified of dying now, though only Pops and Marco knew. Knew the way he hesitated before a fight. The frantically beating heart whenever a pirate raid happened.
He was still the commander, still strong, but where there was no hesitation before, well, it was there now. The fear didn't affect his work or tasks or duties, but it stayed in the back of his mind. And his father and lover didn't think he was weak, which was a huge weight off of his chest. It kept him going, knowing everyone had so much faith in him.
Knowing they all cared was wonderful, but he did wish they wouldn't worry over him. But, as much as he wanted them not to worry, he was always worried as well. They were at the Red Line, camping near where any ships leaving Fishman Island would surface. Jinbei was on a look out for any submarine passing by, though no one knew the full reason.
Not a single person outside of the crew knew of Ace's condition, and it would stay that way. Who knows who'd try to exploit this weakness of Ace's? Or any scientists wanting to experiment on him, try and find a cure to diseases or some shit. Well, that's what they'd say, when they really just wanted to mess with Ace.
Ace was washing the deck for a prank he'd pulled with Thatch, and he kept feeling it under his nose. But he wasn't due to reset for another three days. "You got an itch, there?" Thatch asked, taking a break from his mopping (not that he did it seriously in the first place).
The younger shook his head. "It's a thing I do now. I keep feeling like my nose is bleeding, but it never is," he explained simply, still mopping. "You should get to work now, Marco will bite your head off," Ace suggested. Thatch huffed, but knew he was right, and got back to work.
Haruta appeared and shouted for both of them to come inside just as they watched Namur jump over the side of the ship. Ace and Thatch abandoned their mops, leaving splatters of water across the deck as they ran inside, Ace hoping he was right in what he was thinking.
The two found Marco and Whitebeard surrounded by a handful of commanders. The moment Ace came into view, Marco hurried over. "Jinbei let us know, saw their ship. Namur's gone down to attempt a peaceful greeting," the first mate explained. Ace looked worried. Tomorrow was the reset day. What if he didn't need to go through it? What if he was fixed by then? But he scolded himself for getting his hopes up. If it didn't work, he'd be crushed.
This was their first tactic. To be peaceful, but they'd take drastic measures if Law refused. They all headed out on deck to wait for Namur or the submarine or both. It didn't take long before the yellow sub surfaced. Ace had never seen a submarine as a pirate ship before. It was interesting and unique.
The door opened, and Namur popped his head out of the water from beside the vessel. There was Law, with two hatted crew members and a polar bear mink behind him. He looked interested but also a bit worried. "You wished to talk to me, Whitebeard-ya?"
"Yes. We'd like to ask you for a favor," Pops said smoothly, but in a polite voice, not letting any of his power seep into his voice. Law was surprised. "We have a sick crew member that we can't find a cure for."
Law's eyebrows raised. "It must be a serious disease if you're only hope is a devil fruit," the rookie said, voice light and interested.
"He dies every eight days and then comes back to life," Marco said simply, standing on the railing, Ace standing beside him from just behind the railing, leaning against it. Law looked shocked, losing the cool look, before an almost creepy grin was on his face. Well, if he was interested, it didn't matter if he had a creepy grin.
"Bepo, take the ship down. We don't want marines finding us affiliated with Whitebeard," Law said, and agreed that he'd come onto the ship and check out the patient. He used his power to create a blue dome and then was there. "What was the last time he died?" he asked, getting straight to the point.
Ace said, "Seven days ago. Tomorrow will be another reset." Law was surprised it was a commander who'd gotten sick. He asked for Ace's medical records. While they would have protested to anyone else looking at any of their crew members' medical files, it would be a resounding no, but this could be the only way to help Ace.
They all headed inside, Namur getting to move the ship away from the Red Line, at least in that area. They'd sunk more than a couple of pirate ships that arrived and then attempted to attack. They lead Law into the infirmary, and he looked around, looking impressed. Of course he would, they had superb medical equipment.
Whiskey came out, and wordlessly fetched Ace's files, knowing who this must be. Law sat on the nearest bed as he read through the findings after Ace got sick. "Any disease known to man should not cause you to be resurrected after dying. Face orifices bleeding… there are diseases that can cause that, and if you had multiple ones at the same time, it makes sense that that would happen… just not dying and coming back. Hmm," Law said, thinking out loud.
"Fire Fist-ya, please lay on the bed," Law said, putting the files down on the stand next to the current bed. Marco stopped him, and gave Law a hard stare. "I'm not stupid, I won't do anything to hurt him. He's my patient, now." Marco nodded, and Ace laid on the bed. Law got out his sword, but didn't draw it completely. "Scan," he said, and saw something no one else saw.
He looked shocked. "Your body is indeed riddled with disease. I'll take care of that first." It was over before it began, and Law said that the disease was gone after seeming to cut through the air. Ace felt no different. "But, that isn't what is causing your biggest problem. I'd like to observe him when he passes and comes back."
Whitebeard nodded. "That is fine. It will come midday tomorrow. Whiskey, please take a blood sample," the captain said. They didn't believe the disease was gone unless their nurse confirmed it.
"Then I will come tomorrow morning." He gave Whitebeard a baby den den mushi. "If anything happens, call me and I'll be here in a moment. Don't look so surprised, he's my patient and I'll treat him."
The commanders thanked him, and he nodded, looking back at Ace with hungry eyes. He really was a weird guy, but was clearly serious about the whole thing. Ace assumed he was just interested in seeing something so different, even if it was something terrible for him.
Law left, going back to his own ship, which then sank under. They didn't think he'd leave unannounced. If he would, he wouldn't have given them the den den.
The day passed slowly until Whiskey barged into the galley while Ace was sitting at the table, drinking a coffee. "It's gone," she said simply, and Ace turned around, a questioning look on his face. "You're not sick with the disease or diseases anymore. But Law is right, those diseases wouldn't have caused the resets."
Ace was shocked, and smiled. No more bat sickness. He still was humiliated by that being his downfall. Or what seemed like his downfall. "Now we can only wait for the verdict about the resets," she said softly, sitting next to him and not mentioning the tears streaming down Ace's face. "I'm sorry we couldn't treat you," Whiskey said quietly.
"Not your fault," Ace said, rubbing his eyes. "It was my fault."
Whiskey sighed. "You didn't know, Ace. it's not your fault. And we misdiagnosed you from the start. If only we could have figured out what it was…"
Ace frowned at her. "Even if you had learned it was fatal, there was nothing you could have done. You know that." She nodded, knowing he was right. There was nothing they could do about it, only have Law help them.
The news of Ace's cure was celebrated around the ship, though Ace wasn't feeling so festive. All of the doctors were now saying the diseases shouldn't have resurrected him like it did. So it wasn't over. He couldn't bring himself to drink at all at dinner. He also didn't want to mess it up for Law the next day.
He only went to sleep after Marco read him a book, like a child, leaning against him while he read. His voice was soft so it lulled him to sleep. He hadn't had a narcoleptic attack that day so that was nice. Maybe Law could cure that as well. Though it wasn't high on the list of priorities.
-x-
Marco was sitting on the bed next to an unconscious Ace, Law sitting against the bedroom wall. Ace had been sedated, and now they were waiting for the reset in silence. Neither said a thing until Law stood up and used that "scan" move. Marco looked down and saw Ace had stopped breathing, and then remembered the disease was gone, meaning he wouldn't bleed, but he still died.
Law grinned, and Marco was a bit irate he seemed so happy. "I was right, there's nothing in this world that can resurrect a dead person," he said simply, sheathing his sword. Marco frowned, and looked pointedly at Ace. "He's not dead."
"He's not breathing at all," Marco pointed out.
"Room," he said, using his power, and then got his sword out again. "It's all thanks to this," he said, holding what was clearly a dead parasite. "This was in his brain stem. It made his body go into extreme hibernation. He wasn't dead, but the diseases he was housing were what caused the bleeding. It was an unfortunate mix."
Marco was shocked. "But his presence disappeared! He died in my arms and his presence completely left!"
"Extreme hibernation. Meaning he was basically leaning over the brink of death. It's not surprising that being so close to death would erase his presence. But you can feel it now, right?" Marco looked down and couldn't believe he hadn't reacted to the return of his presence and steady breathing. "He should be fine now, but I'll stick around for the rest of today just to make sure."
Marco did a valiant job keeping the tears in. He took Ace's hand in his, and Law sat back down. They were quiet again until Ace woke up once the anesthesia wore off. He opened his eyes and looked around.
He felt different. He didn't still feel hazy or out of it. It felt like he'd just woken up from being asleep. "Hey, Ace. We found the culprit," Marco said softly, and Law brought it over. It was on the cover of a hardback book, neither of them touching it anymore. "Apparently you were never actually dead. This thing made you so deeply asleep it turned your bodily functions off."
Ace didn't see how that was possible, and was about to say so, when Law said, "It's the New World. Impossible things happen all the time." Well, that was true, but still. Surely his body would have died without breathing? He then hesitantly asked if he had bled. "No, that was the disease's work. Once that was out, you won't be bleeding again."
"But what about the first time I died? I was out for days," Ace pointed out, still not believing things had never been as serious as they thought. He hadn't died? All of the stress about it was for nothing? While he was glad he'd never actually died, it was still frustrating.
"That was the first episode of this thing. It was the slowest going," Law replied simply. "I should go tell your medical professionals." Marco nodded, and he and Ace get off of the bed, holding hands. Ace looked and felt confused. Was it really over? He didn't want to get his hopes up, but he so wanted to believe Law. Desperately, he wanted to think he'd never died.
The three walked to the infirmary, where many commanders were waiting. Law headed straight for Whiskey and Tami. They put the parasite in a petri dish, and Law wrote down the whole diagnosis to put into Ace's file.
"Wait… he's fixed?" Thatch asked dumbly.
"Should be. This was what was causing him to 'die'. I've never encountered one in real life, but there is a book about parasites in the Grand Line, and I have it. I'd lend it to you but I only have one copy," Law said smoothly. The infirmary burst into cheers, and Ace was hugged by all of his brothers, while Whitebeard laughed. Law was clearly surprised by the behavior of the yonko crew and captain, but said nothing.
Marco turned to Law and asked what he wanted in return for doing this for them. "Nothing. I had fun, I've never come across someone with this concoction of illnesses." Marco couldn't see how it had been fun, but it was nice he didn't want them to pay or give him anything in return.
"Are you sure you don't even want to be allies? Our crew will gladly help yours if you ever get in a pinch," Pops said honestly. Law thought for a moment.
"No, it would look bad for you if you allied with me. Though the sentiment is appreciated," Law replied. Ace wondered what he was going to do that would look bad, but he assumed they'd find out in the newspaper some time. Whitebeard conceded without asking what he meant.
"Law, thank you very much," Ace said with a bow.
Law responded, "No need to bow, Fire Fist-ya. If any complications arise, call me on the den den mushi." Ace nodded, and the commanders watched Law leave in varying degrees of tears. Many were looking at the parasite as it rested in the closed container.
"Wait, so does this mean that the disease wouldn't have killed Ace? It was just unfortunate timing?" Izo asked, bringing confusion to the forefront of everyones' minds.
Ace asked, "Does it matter anymore? Can we just push this mess behind us?" Thatch nodded, and said that they should try to move on. The others agreed, though many were still curious. When the news was told to everyone else, cheers broke out, and everyone let out a collective sigh in relief.
Ace still kept his hopes down a bit. They'd truly know if it was over in eight days. Law's submarine left the moment he got off of the Moby Dick. Marco walked up behind Ace and wrapped his arms around him, nosing his hair. "You were just sleeping with some unfortunate effects of the diseases," he said softly. "You never died."
"I feel like I did," Ace replied, looking at his hands. "I just hope it's all over. And if it's not, then you won't have to see me like that. All bloody and sick. It must have been harder for you out of everyone else, being there with me each time it happened…"
Marco swayed them back and forth. "I wasn't going to leave you just because it was an unpleasant sight." He threaded his fingers with Ace's. "I'll help you through whatever you need me to, without hesitation." Ace smiled softly and nodded.
"I know," he said, kissing Marco's cheek. "Thank you." Marco smiled warmly in response.
-x-
Everyone was stressed eight days later. The ship was almost silent as everyone waited for something to, or not to, happen. Ace was in his room with Marco and Pops, both of them offering silent reassurance. Ace stayed wide awake the whole time, and didn't know if he'd be inp ina again if it didn't leave. If he'd still "hibernate".
Marco was brushing his hair, and Pops was reading. By dinner time, when nothing happened, they were each hungry, and Ace was in shock the rest of the night as the day came to a close, and he was perfectly fine. He went to bed with Marco in peace, finally believing it was behind them. He was okay again. He wouldn't bleed from the face anymore. He wouldn't have a splitting headache, or wake up exhausted. Didn't have to hide anymore, hide his state from his brothers.
He didn't need to worry or worry anyone else anymore. Marco wiped his tears away with a smile. "Everything will go back to normal, now." Ace nodded, and wiped his tears on the pillow. "You will still have times where you get scared. That's how cancer survivors feel, like the sickness will come back at any time. Even if it was never dying, it was still traumatizing."
Ace nodded. "I'll keep taking the anxiety meds," he replied.
"Good. Let's go to sleep, and then we can get back to pirating like normal tomorrow." Ace smiled and agreed, turning onto his other side so Marco could spoon him. He could feel wetness on his back from Marco, but said nothing of it, knowing it was extremely hard for Marco, and that he kept it inside so as not to upset Ace.
No more bats. No more parasites, and Ace would make sure he wasn't careless anymore in the New World. He was going to be practical and skeptical of things. Thatch would be bummed, but Ace wasn't going to get ill like that ever again, would live healthily. He knew Marco would like that, too. Ace being responsible. At least, with his own health that is.
Stupid fucking bat.
I didn't tag Law in this since it would have been so obvious how it ended, but my fav (most likely) insomniac/grump saved the day! I made up the whole parasite thingy since the Grand Line in crazy, so who knows if something like that existed?
Sixcupsofcoffeetogo: I'm glad!
OtakuGirl2176: Thank you! I put everyone through so much in this one. Poor everyone, especially Ace and Marco. But everything ended up working out in the end.
Llama: Yeah, my babies went through hell. But they didn't have to go through it too long.
Iris Viggiano: I'm glad you cried. Mwahaha. Sorry it was only two parts, but I couldn't make it any longer, sadly.