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It’s a little hard to believe that there are two people who genuinely and honestly loves him the same way he does them. It’s hard because when he’s told all his life that everything he amounts to is nothing more than a mere shadow his late father was—a demon, a murderer, a thief, and everything vile, spat out from the mouths of drunk men in pursuit of power and money, when they themselves subconsciously become the very same things they claim his father was—when every single thing said about someone who he didn’t know, didn’t even have the chance to know, chipped his innocence away like pieces of broken glass. But, nobody knew who he was. It’s for the best.
But these two boys, who have become so precious and so dear to him that it makes his entire core shake that it leaves him wanting to be scared at how close they’ve become, have managed to pull him back from drowning into the depths of his insecurities and make him believe he is more than what his father was, that he is not his father. Sabo, with all his trust, solidity, and reliability, and Luffy, with all his open love and infectious ambition, give him the strength to be a better person, a brother loved despite their differences and blood.
Ace, under the safety of a warm, warm blanket shared by two others, begins to wonder why he even has brothers like them. Because he doesn’t deserve them, and it makes him want to leave, but the moment he even thinks about it, one of them somehow catches on and suddenly he forgets it all. He forgets that he’s a terrible person, that he hates how he’s able to call his brothers his, that he’s someone who shouldn’t have anything good to himself, who doesn’t deserve their love, their goodness, their laughter, and everything bad in between because Luffy subconsciously tightens his arms around his calf and drools a little bit more on the soft fabric of his yukata and Sabo opens his bright, bright blue eyes and stares at him sleepily, and Ace feels like he can drown in them instead of the horrible thoughts that sometimes surface within the back of his mind.
“Stay,” the sleepy man whispers from behind Luffy, an arm reaching across to grasp at the hand Ace didn’t realise formed into a fist.
He trembles and swallows a lump in his throat, holding onto the hand that’s helped him up countless times when he needed to be picked back up because Sabo says it with so much hope and love, like a reminder saying that Luffy will most definitely say the same thing until the words are engraved in his mind for years and years to come.
He wants to say sorry so much for being the way he is, still so hesitant to come to terms with having virtues in the form of two loving brothers who’d wait for him if he ever disappeared without a word, and he wants to say sorry for all of the things he’s said and done to hurt those feelings of loyalty and love specially dedicated to him and him alone. But he takes one look at his youngest brother and he knows that if there is anybody who will follow him to the pits of hell itself without an ounce of self-preservation, it will be Luffy and he will make damn sure that he’ll come back safe and sound and when they both come out of it all, Sabo will be there to do the rest and tell him it’s all over because he’s back home with them.
A cicada drones on and on in the heat of the summer sun.
Ace wants to say that he’s already too far away, that it’s useless; question why they want him to stay so badly, why they even love him back, but the hand around his tightens and for once in his life, he doesn’t want to let go. He doesn’t want them to give up.
So he whispers, “Okay.”
And everything is alright.