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Roger didn’t think he would be that kind of parent. The kind of parent that was prefaced with, ‘over-’ and ended with, “-protective.”
And he insists he isn’t. It was all out of love; Roger has a lot to give and the brunt of it is directed at the love of his life and just as importantly, his one and only child.
Nothing could have prepared him for when his son was placed in his arms. The overwhelming desire to love and protect his child encompassed him immediately, it washed over him tenfold given his difficult birth. Rouge nearly gave her life to their boy and from then on, Roger swore that her efforts wouldn’t be forsaken.
He’ll make damn sure Ace gets the love and respect he properly deserves in life.
If it meant being a tiny bit overbearing, a little bit prickly, an insy-winsy bit wound up whenever Ace and the concept of ‘romance’ got too close together, Roger would plead guilty to being somewhat dramatic. But it’s all justified of course, it’s his innate instinct as a father to want for Ace’s happiness.
Eventually, his baby boy will find someone to love but Roger believed it would be far, far, far in the future. So far in the future in fact, he was confident that there were no immediate threats that could possibly surface.
And so when Roger comes home and is greeted with the sight of Sabo on bended knee in front of his son, his security is broken with a striking thought that the threat may have already appeared from under his nose.
A distant memory hits him like a freight train.
****
It was noisier than the typical day in their household.
While a hurricane ravaged their living room, Roger sat facedown on the table in the dining area as Rouge busied herself with preparations for their expected company. He was not at all sulking that his son outgrew playing their favorite game of pirates with his father and spurned him in favor of playing pirates with the new kid.
Rayleigh and Shakky were welcomed with the home in a disastrous state, arriving right in the middle of a bloodthirsty battle. There were three children instead of two. Two dark haired boys running away from a blond as he chased them with a flimsy pool noodle. Ace and Luffy giggled madly, unbothered by how they got whacked with the makeshift sword when he came close.
They noticed that the newcomer was comfortable within the house, very much familiar with the layout and interacting with the children so naturally it was if he’d been with them since birth.
“I didn’t hear that you adopted another kid.” Shakky began.
The two made their way to seat themselves, ignoring how Roger continued to plaster his face on the table. They paid him no mind as they were used to his antics, however Rouge delivered a sharp kick at his chair to set him straight. He sat up in time to receive his own cup of coffee.
“Your last one is already a handful.” Rayleigh added, his remark made evident when high pitched screams echoed through the other side of the house followed by a strange, tinny laugh.
Rouge gave them a smile while Roger grumbled.
Luffy wasn’t a planned adoption, not if Garp had anything to say about it. Roger couldn't say he was adopted at all. The odd little boy happened to stay at their place because he didn’t like staying at Dadan’s, but Roger definitely had no plans to adopt this new one either. Absolutely none, and he was adamant about it. No one could mistake him for a saint like Newgate.
“It’s a boy,” Rouge said while she peeled fruits for the children. “His name is Sabo.”
“More like a pup than a boy. He kept following us home from the park,” he muttered.
Rayleigh and Shakky looked at each other then peered to the side to take another glance at the new kid, who was in the middle of restraining Ace and taunting Luffy to come save him from his capture.
Strange circumstances meant for an interesting story for how this one came about, but that’s to be expected by now. Not a boring day passes with this family.
“Followed you home? He’s inside the house, you say that as if he kept pawing at the door for food.”
“He doesn’t have to. Ace let’s him in anyways.”
“Roger.” He flinched at the stern chide. Rouge was quite fed up with having to remind him. “He’s Ace’s friend and he’s welcome to stay whenever he wants to.”
A close friend, she emphasized each time Roger made a face. But the boy occupied too much of his son’s time and is clingier than friends ought to be in his opinion. To make matters worse, Ace didn’t seem to mind given how he’d abandoned his father by his lonesome.
Rayleigh saw through his ire and put two and two together. “So the son has taken after the mother. He’s already got people trailing after him.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” He demanded.
“It means you shouldn’t forget how you acted like a lovesick idiot back in your day. Stop sulking.”
Insulted, Roger scoffed. For one, he was never lovesick. He was only determined to prove himself worthy of Rouge’s affections. Secondly, he never tried to follow her home and he certainly didn’t follow her from the park like an eager puppy. There was no comparison.
Though, how the boy came to be was still a mystery. It left Roger scratching his head in perplexity as to how his lovely wife went to the playgrounds with their child one morning and came home with another one in tow.
“I’m keeping him,” Ace said resolutely, holding the other child by the hand as they entered the house.
And that was that, and it was final.
Ace doubly inherited his parents’ stubbornness. Nothing Roger said could convince him that simply taking the kid home wouldn’t make him permanently theirs. His words eventually became worthless as the kid would persistently go home with them after every park visit. It’s a wonder that they haven’t been arrested for kidnapping.
The stubborn streak wasn’t Ace’s only inheritance either. How Rouge had a knack for poor, infatuated souls trailing after her - excluding him - and how Roger picked up anyone he found interesting - especially Rouge - and now Roger can clearly see that both traits have passed on to Ace in the form of Sabo.
“Ms. Rouge, are you here?”
Speak of the devil, the boy comes in small and unassuming.
Big, blue eyes roamed over the table as he pitter-pattered his way to Rouge. He made a quick glance at the new grownups, gave them a piddly wave and a toothy smile.
His company waved back, and Roger knew they were already charmed by the cute greeting. He acknowledged the wave with a curt nod over his cup but he refused to be fooled by his adorable innocence; he will not underestimate this child so taken with his boy.
Sabo tugged lightly on Rouge’s skirt. “Hello, Ms. Rouge. I got a question I wanna ask you.”
“Hello, Sabo.” Rouge dried her hands by the sink and gave him her full attention. “What would you like to ask me?”
"Can I marry Ace?”
Roger nearly spat out his coffee. His chest heaved with coughs as he choked out, “can you what-?!”
Undeterred, Sabo gave a long suffering sigh and said in a perfectly practiced tone. “ May I marry Ace?”
Without missing a beat his wife replied, “you don’t need my permission to marry Ace. What did he say?”
“He told me to ask you.” A tiny pout formed while he thought aloud. “Hm. Wasn't I supposed to? My parents said I gotta ask the bride’s parents first then talk negotiations-n-stuff.”
Their guests were utterly amused by the scene. Rayleigh concealed his grin with his glass while Shakky masked her smile with a folded newspaper. There was undoubtedly never a dull moment here.
Left speechless by the exchange, Roger sputtered like a broken engine as he tried to process the insinuation. His boy was no bride to be given away!
Roger’s certain that Sabo had no idea what his parents meant by dowries and bride prices, or what those entailed. Yet despite stumbling over the foreign word, the boy was familiar enough with the concept to open said negotiations which, Roger thought disdainfully, said plenty about his family’s priorities.
The upper class had no qualms in bartering their children like auctioning off their properties. His house, however, held none of those practices - so how in the world did they come to giving away their child’s hand in marriage like stuffy traditionalists?
Rouge raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? In that case.”
To his impending horror, she poured Sabo a glass of juice and led him to take a seat at the table. She sat across from him, placing her hands primly on top of each other over the wooden surface. Sabo mimicked her, sitting up with trained posture.
“We will discuss the conditions of the marriage,” Rouge declared, playing the part with such etiquette and grace that it had Roger gawking. He was aghast that she was humoring the boy like this, acting as though she was giving their baby away at the ripe age of five. “What have you to offer my only child?"
Sabo didn’t appear intimidated, rather used to formal talk due to his upbringing. He leaned forward and spoke with candid intent, surprisingly articulate for his age, as though he really did mean to make a speech.
"I'll be his best friend forever. We’ll go on new adventures everyday, I'll let him be the ship captain sometimes and I'll stop Luffy from complaining about it. Then I’m gonna give him flowers even though he says they're girly but I know he likes them anyways. Oh, and I’ll give him some of my snacks if he wants them too. Maybe.”
"A tempting offer,” she mused, “and what are your terms?"
"Terms?"
"What would you like Ace to do for you when you get married?"
"Oh." Chewing his lip as he pondered, Sabo suddenly looked unprepared like he didn’t expect to have conditions for himself. “I don't know, I like what he does now. Sometimes, when I'm sad, he gives me a hug and that's nice. I like those. And he lets me be captain too. And he shares his food with me when Luffy isn't looking. That doesn’t have to change.”
"Is that all?"
He nods. “I want us to be together all the time, that's all."
"A fine idea. I thereby give you my bless-”
"Oh, no ,” Roger interrupts vehemently. He’s had enough of this charade. “Not fine, not fine at all. There is no blessing. I won’t allow it!”
The kid’s got guts. He was not one bit startled by his outburst. Rouge, though, she smiled at him with suppressed vexation that Roger knew he was in for it later. But how could she expect him not to object as she was ready to hand their son off to this brat?
Sabo crossed his arms and fixed him a petulant glare. “And why not?”
Avoiding his wife’s death stare, Roger made flabbergasted motions at the others to intervene in this nonsense. He received no help. Rayleigh and Shakky merely looked on as spectators do, with Rayleigh continuing to sip at his coffee and Shakky expectantly watching his reaction.
Roger threw his arms out. “You’re babies!”
“Nuh uh, Luffy’s the baby,” came the instant reply. Sabo held out an open hand and one finger. “We’ll be six soon! That means we go to big kid school. Babies don’t go to big kid school,” he reasoned.
“Big kids at ‘big kid school’ don’t get married either!”
“Do too!”
“They do not!”
Sabo scrunched his little nose and muttered, “what would you know what we do, you haven’t been in any kind of school in centuries.”
The jab struck. Although it was true to a degree, Roger let out an exaggerated gasp. Exactly how old did this brat think he was?! And did he imply that he was stupid?!
Ignoring the laughs at his expense, he turned to his wife as if to point out the insolence.
To add insult to injury, Rouge responded with, “he’s not wrong.”
He grit his teeth and he faced Sabo again. “Then enlighten me. Why do kids these days get married?”
“‘Cause.” Sabo was irked that he had to explain such an obvious answer. “No one can tell them what to do anymore. When people get married, they get their own family and live in their own house and make their own rules, and no one can make them do anything. That’s why when me and Ace get married, then-” he paused. Sabo looked down at his fingers, twiddling his thumbs around his cup. The argument lost steam as the boy mumbled, “then I won’t have to go back to my house.”
Roger blinked, taken aback.
Oh.
The indignation escaped him slowly, mood sobering at the revelation.
So, there was a deeper meaning behind the childish proposal.
Sabo kept his eyes trained on his cup. His tiny shoulders hunched together the longer they kept quiet. It was reminiscent of how the boy would act when his caretakers would come for him.
The boy’s stay would end with a curt knock on the door, and like a conditioned response, Sabo would become taciturn. It couldn’t be ignored, how he would wilt with disappointment and how his exuberance faded as soon as the door opened. A contemptuous man acting as both butler and driver would usher his charge into a cold, steel black car and drive away, back to the mansion, back to his parents.
Sabo’s parents. Roger had seen the Outlooks once. He grimaced at the reminder.
A passing glance told him all he needed to know. An upscale couple, affluently dressed, and rich with snob. Their faces were pinned with tight, false smiles as they carried an air of perpetual scorn. Trailing behind them was Sabo, donning stiff clothes that matched his visage. It was disheartening to see the lively, impish boy drained of life with them, blank-faced.
Seeing Sabo next to his parents made it clear to Roger what the boy’s role was in the family. He was a marionette, a prop to their image, a token to facilitate their wealth rather than a child to be cherished.
For one so young to know he’s better under a different roof, craved for his freedom elsewhere, it moved Roger. It made all the more sense why Sabo willingly and insistently followed them home day by day at the park no matter how many times they were forced to bring him back before they were persecuted for kidnapping.
Fortunately, the Outlooks were neglectful as they were ignorant. They didn’t concern themselves much with Sabo’s life since he was too young to be useful.
Hence their neglect was written on Sabo’s miserable face; the sadness and loneliness that shouldn’t weigh down his young life.
If Edward were here, he would’ve adopted the boy that very instant.
He heaved a great sigh.
No, Roger was no saint like Newgate, but even Roger had a heart.
“Tell you what, kid. Come back in thirteen years. I'll even pay for the damn ceremony."
Sabo’s eyes bugged out of his head, shock breaking through the melancholy.
“Thirteen years?! That's gonna take forever!" He exclaimed.
"That’s the law.” Roger said gruffly, pounding his fist on the table. Rayleigh scoffed at him, and even he had to recognize the irony of using the law by the likes of him. As if Roger followed the law but this is one that will be abided by. “Ah, but if you can't wait that long then I'll assume you can't uphold your marriage vows to be with my son forever. I won't allow my boy to marry a man with a weak will."
At the tilt of Sabo’s head and his confused face, Shakky supplied, “someone who gives up easily."
Sabo gasped, instantly offended. “Fine!" He said, eyes blazing with challenge. “I’ll wait, but what if somebody else asks you, too?"
Roger leaned back in his chair with a bark of laughter. He can’t help but appreciate the gall of this brazen little brat trying to get his bases covered.
In a grand gesture, he swept his hand across the air. "I'll tell them the same thing. But!” He held up a finger, interjecting quickly when he saw a rebuttal forming. “I'll say that you're first in line, brat."
“Hmm.” Sabo stared at him as he thought, and kept staring while he drank his juice.
Roger stared back.
Once he reached the last drop, Sabo ended his contemplation with a loud burp and a small, “‘kay."
Roger watched dumbfounded as the boy hopped off the chair and scurried to the living room to where his son was, bobbing his tiny blond head away. He supposed that a child’s attention span could only hold for so long but he felt oddly snubbed at being denied a climactic resolution to their negotiations.
"Ace!” Sabo’s voice echoed out of sight. “Your dad says we can't get married."
"You asked my dad?” Ace repeated with disbelief. “I told you he’d say no! I told you to ask Mom.”
"Eh, he was already there. But that's okay, he says I'm first in line."
"What’s that mean?" Luffy asked.
"I get dibs!"
"That is absolutely not what I meant." Roger huffed. Wounded, he was betrayed that Ace had conspired against him and went behind his back to get his mother’s approval instead.
"You're a cruel man, Roger,” said Rayleigh, shaking his head at him with mock disapproval. “The boy just wants to be part of the family."
"He can be in the family without taking my son away from me!" He slammed both palms on the tabletop, rattling the dinnerware. “Clever little sneak! Sways us with a sob story, strongarms me into a deal, and bam! Turns my son against me!"
“ You made the deal, you fool.”
In contrast to her husband, Rouge let out a pleased hum. "Well, I don't see the problem. He’s a bright boy and he's good for Ace."
"No! Let me keep my kid!” No one responded to his agonized plea. He sulked into his hands. “Only five years old and I already have to fend off the scoundrels."
Shakky laughed. "If he takes after his mother then I’m sorry to say that there’ll only be more scoundrels to come. He’ll eventually marry one of them." She waved at the space between him and his wife. “Case in point.”
How cruel of her to say. Roger couldn’t argue with her, either. He was exactly the kind of scoundrel Rouge’s parents would’ve disapproved of if she gave a damn about their opinion. His wife was a firecracker when she had finally decided on him. Whatever hell she was given about their relationship she returned in spades with no ounce of shame. The foul words from her sharp tongue could make the devil blush and cover his ears.
With that thought, Roger suddenly wished that Ace wouldn’t grow up too fast.
As if reading his mind, Rayleigh nudged at his shoulder. “Before you know it, thirteen years will have passed. You are a man of your word, aren’t you?”
“Ha. Of course I am!” He yelled, obstinate. “The real question is if the boy will keep his.” Looking over his shoulder, he caught Sabo hugging his son tightly. Sneering at the too friendly display, he turned his nose up in the air and crossed his arms. “He won’t wait, I’m not worried at all.”
Beside him, Rouge watched the boys. Her eyes twinkled with intrinsic understanding as her son laughed. “Who knows.”
***
There were alarm bells belatedly shrieking in his head.
Admittedly, he let his guard down. In all of Sabo’s years at their abode, he’d gotten under Roger’s skin, won him over with his quick wit and unwavering loathing towards the upper class. When Sabo publicly denounced his biological family to dedicate his life towards fighting injustice, Roger held nothing but pride.
He had grown complacent as his fondness of the boy overtook his paternal instincts - but no longer.
With his composure gathered, he marches up his own front steps to shield his son from the blond.
Pointing an accusatory finger at him, he shouts. “I’m not handing him over to you! Not yet! Over my dead body!”
The audacity of this boy proposing with neither ring nor notice, cashing in on their decade long agreement without telling him made him tighten his hold on Ace. Even Roger had the sense to make his proposal to the love of his life at least somewhat romantic. For a boy who showed flair for dramatic speeches, he expected Sabo to put in some effort.
Sabo gets up from bended knee, shoelaces tied neatly. He wears an expression of patient bewilderment. “Okay?”
Ace elbows Roger none too gently on the side of his ribs to break out of his desperate grip. The blow has him wheezing and he both curses and praises how his son has grown so strong. Was this another development he failed to take notice of over the years?
His son lets out an agitated sigh. “What the hell are you shouting about, old man?”
His one and only, his baby boy, hiding from him. There was a time when Ace would hang on to Roger’s arm, babbling about anything his little mind can think of. There were no secrets between them back then; he despairs over why Ace chose to keep them now.
“Why?” He cries pitifully, rubbing at the sore spot. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what!”
“That you’re dating!”
Jolting out of his annoyance, Ace looks frantically between him and Sabo.
“What, me? No way, of course not,” at Roger’s harsh skepticism, he adds hastily, “really, I don’t have a boyfriend at all. I don’t have time for that! I gotta focus on… my studies?” His nervous laughter dies off quickly with the pathetic excuse.
Roger frowns. He thinks the world of his son but Ace was no scholar and didn’t aim to be one.
Although the flimsy lie didn’t escape his notice, the most telling evidence stood sourly by Ace’s side.
Sabo has instantly become devoid of any cheer he had previously. He keeps his silence with his back turned away from the conversation, and offers no assistance as Ace stumbles over his explanations.
Clearly, Ace didn’t mean to let his dear father know of their relationship and Sabo is upset by it. Understandably so. Roger would feel more for him if he wasn’t already upset by the needless deceit and the sudden threat to elope.
It saddens Roger that his son would keep this from him when he only had the best intentions in mind. “You used to tell Papa everything, my boy. What changed?”
Ace stops his rambling, lips thinning in an embarrassed line. He squirms in place and hides his hands behind his back like he used to do when he was smaller. Roger consoles himself that at least Ace felt a smidgen of guilt over the ordeal.
With a frustrated groan, Ace yells, “I’ll tell you when it’s serious, old man!” He grabs Sabo by the hand, “come on, I promised Mom I’d help with the garden,” and stomps away before Roger could respond.
They quickly distance themselves from him, yet Roger could hear their fading argument.
“Thanks for the help back there!”
“Your business, not mine, right?” Sabo says dismissively. “Besides, I thought for sure you’d let them know about this one.”
“It’s not that serious. The day I tell Mom and the old man, and everyone else is gonna find out, I’ll know it’ll be worth the trouble they’ll give me.”
Roger wants to argue; he had never given Ace trouble. He had simply given him a long list of advice and shared his son’s happiness with his friends for further support.
Some might say excessively, but that’s besides the point.
Flabbergasted at how they left him behind, Roger storms inside in search of his wife to tell her of the crisis he averted. A crisis that had apparently been forming since their kept stray entered their lives, and damn it, did he call it from the start.
No one is allowed to call him dramatic again, not when his superior paternal instincts were involved and he was right all along.
“He’s still here!” He bellows through the house, forgetting Sabo’s constant presence in their family for more than a decade.
Instead of his wife, he comes across Rayleigh and Shakky at the table having come by earlier for a visit.
They greet his thunderous entrance with vapid acknowledgment.
“Who?”
“Having a fit again, Roger?”
“What this time?”
He’s too disturbed by the onslaught of deja vu to reply to their nonchalance. They’re in the very same room where the whole conundrum started, where he should have nipped the threat in the bud at the most opportune moment.
The similarity to the memory has Roger enter into a new tirade. He relays what had transpired before his very eyes.
His friends regard him with blank stares until a lightbulb goes off on top of Shakky’s head.
She snaps her fingers. “Oh, that’s right. Didn’t you promise them to each other when they were younger?”
A pity she remembered that.
“ I did no such thing, ” he hisses venomously.
Rayleigh doesn’t buy his act. He reminds him with a light taunt, “man of your word, you said.”
Fuming, Roger spins on his heel to leave but catches sight of Rouge entering the dining room from their backyard.
Lighting up, he takes her hand to pull her close. He takes refuge in that she’s the only one who can understand his dilemma, being the other half of their son’s parentage. Surely she’ll be as outraged as he is.
“I could hear you from the front door, dear.” She says, monotone. “Tell me what’s so urgent.”
He jerks his head in the direction of where she came, where her two helpers are presently occupied. “Rouge, darling, please. We have to do something about that boy.”
“What’s that about my son-in-law?” Rouge answers lightly, then rolls her eyes as Roger bristles. “Relax, Roger. He’s forgotten all about it,” she pats his chest lightly, “after all, what’s important is that he’s been emancipated from his parents.”
She speaks with a hint of malice that gives him pause.
A sly smile stretches across her lips when she looks up at him and he returns it with a devious grin. He understands what she’s referring to, well acquainted with the vindictive pleasure when thinking of their downfall.
Muted, baleful laughter is shared between them as they recall how they’ve liberated Sabo from that suffocating mansion.
It was with monumental effort on their part, to plan and sabotage the Outlooks in order to release Sabo from their custody. A drawn-out, carefully executed scheme that enlisted the help of their extended family and the connections they’ve accumulated through their illicit history to fulfill.
And it had been glorious.
The celebrations took place in Sabo’s new apartment, the same day they won his freedom. After they helped him move in, they threw him their support and one hell of a welcome party that nearly got him evicted on his first night.
Sabo never looked so free, celebrating with the band of criminals who raised him.
He forgets his ire as he remembers Sabo’s carefree laugh. “Right, of course. It’s all in the past now.” For a blissful second he’s calm, until a thought crosses his mind. “But they’re together! I can’t believe they would hide this from us!”
“With how you’ve reacted earlier, I wonder why Ace chose to keep it a secret,” she says with no hint of wonder.
“They were going to elope, how else was I supposed to react?”
“Again, they weren’t going to elope. Not this soon, anyways.” She shushes him with a finger to his lips as he’s about to argue. “It’s because you’ve been unsupportive that our son decided to hide from his own father,” Rouge states firmly.
Her reasoning cuts through his protective rage. The shame in his behavior causing his son to distance himself from him puts a cold stop to his indignation.
Talking to him in a way that he’ll understand, Rouge adds. “Our baby’s grown up now. He can make his own decisions. And if those decisions hurt him in the future, we’ll be here to help him through it.”
These are one of the many reasons he adores his wife. She keeps him grounded when his emotions run wild. Roger admires how she can take his concerns and make it manageable for them to handle together.
“I’m sure our son doesn’t want to hide, either.” Rouge says softly when Roger stays quiet.
Ace did look guilty when Roger needlessly interrogated him.
Faced with the consequences of his actions, Roger stops to think clearly.
He loves Ace. He wants to know every major part of his life. Roger would hate to miss out on his son’s happiness due to his unwelcome behavior.
Noticing his unease, Rouge pinches at his downturned face. “They’ll tell us when they’re ready.”
“He’s said he’ll tell me when they’re serious,” mumbles Roger.
A second passes. Rouge lets go of his cheek.
“They’re not?”
“Are they?” Asks Rayleigh.
“Aren’t they?” Shakky counters.
Four pairs of eyes look towards the glass doors, obtaining a clear view of the two boys tending to the garden.
They paint a familiar silhouette, heads huddled together, sharing each other’s personal space as they pruned the flowers under the arbor.
Their closeness didn't go unnoticed in the past, but was disguised as part of their normalcy that Roger didn’t fully realize how fixated they were on each other until further, critical observation.
The boys look to be engrossed in their own world.
Sabo gestures at a spot of dirt on Ace’s face. Upon Ace’s missed attempts, Sabo bats at his clumsy fingers and cups his cheek in one hand to swipe at the spot with his bare thumb, smiling with exasperation.
An instinctive urge to protest rises. Roger wants to berate Ace for letting his guard down, don’t just lean into him like that with your eyes closed what are you doing- but contains himself.
“He claims they’re not serious,” Rouge states with reproach, shaking her head at their son. “He should be more considerate of Sabo’s feelings.”
Roger replies slowly, “he doesn’t look too mad about it.”
It doesn’t take a fool to realize The Look on Sabo, and Roger’s a fool for not seeing it sooner. The boy’s features have gone soft and sappy while he holds his son’s face in his hands, completely moon-eyed. There’s soft intent as his thumbs graze over his skin, too gently to be wiping away at the grime.
“How sweet,” Rouge says indulgently.
Roger has to concede that the boy has been consistently loyal and honest throughout the years, fitting in naturally with their family and taking good care of Ace and Luffy. He has no reason to believe that Sabo would be unworthy, and he couldn’t be more integrated into the family more than he already is.
Roger should be happy that such a person would stick by Ace forever.
A loud squabble disrupts the scene. Ace pushes Sabo down and grabs a handful of dirt, his cheeks more stained than before.
Rayleigh chuckles. “Nevermind.”
Maybe they’d gotten ahead of themselves. Roger had given Sabo too much credit.
Instead of wiping Ace’s skin clean, Sabo was streaking his face with mud in careful designs, as if he’d been connecting his freckles like he and Luffy would often do when Ace is asleep. Ace took an embarrassingly long time to realize the prank, sitting complaint and trusting under his little trick. It isn’t until Sabo broke character that the seemingly tender moment dissolved into a petty fight.
The boys are throwing dirt at one another like they used to do as children. They can’t help but smile at their antics, reminded of a time when the two were smaller.
Roger sighs. “Time has gone too fast.”
“It has been thirteen years. They are of age.” Rayleigh gives him a vexating smirk. “And if he does decide to come back for your agreement, there’ll be no objections on your part?”
He doesn’t rise to the bait of Rayleigh testing his word. Roger doesn’t expect Sabo to ask for his blessing a second time - not that he asked Roger the first time - since he’s been removed from his parents’ influence. And as Rouge patiently explained, Roger doesn’t get a say in anything even if his intentions were to defend than to deprive.
But he’s a stubborn man, he won’t concede easily. “That’s not up to me. What makes you think Ace will accept.”
Rayleigh simply waves a hand towards the garden.
The boys have deviated from their short fight, Sabo now honestly wiping at Ace’s cheeks with the bottom of his shirt. He moves back to examine his work and motions for the other to come closer while he sticks his hand through the mass of stems. He grins when gray eyes narrow at him with suspicion.
Roger’s misgivings fade when Sabo brushes Ace’s bangs to the side to tuck a flower behind his ear.
“My, my,” Shakky comments at the bold gesture.
Ace is momentarily stunned, but the surprise slowly melts into soft endearment, Sabo’s earlier cheekiness quickly forgotten.
With the flowers and the freckles, it reminded Roger so much of Rouge in their early days, when they danced around each other with witty banter and shy affection. The gesture itself was a familiar favorite of his to win Rouge over.
Roger sneaks a glance beside him to see his wife’s reaction, and judging by the twinkle in her eyes, he knows she’s thinking of it too.
Looking back, he spots a secret smile; one he’s never seen on Ace but on Rouge, and the sight begs him to reconsider his blessings.
His son was... very happy. In the end, that's what’s important, isn’t it?
Under the blooming arbor and clear daylight, with timid smiles and flushed cheeks, Ace and Sabo were happy together. Just as they’ve always been. They’ve been attached at the hip since Ace decisively took Sabo home, and their relationship flourished all the more when Sabo never left Ace’s side even in the midst of his custody dispute.
Perhaps Roger had been aware and chose to be ignorant, or the significance of their relationship didn’t hit him until now.
Ace sweeps his hand over the flowers, carefully choosing a magnificent bloom and reciprocates.
Roger has his answer. He turns away from the exchange to allow the boys their privacy.
“Speak now or forever hold your peace,” Rayleigh says to him gravely. He dodges an elbow to his side.
It has been a long time and Sabo’s shown that he fulfilled his part by waiting despite not remembering the promise. He supposes that if Ace had to choose one, this boy isn’t so bad.
He’ll let him go.
But only to this one.
“He’s still a brat but,” oh, does letting go hurt, “a promise is a promise,” Roger mutters begrudgingly.
“Wonderful.” Shakky claps her hands together. Roger sees a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I enjoy weddings, particularly the reception.”
“You say that because you’d insist on providing the booze.”
“Smart man. Don’t you fret, I’ll be sure to give you the family discount.”
“Ah, so you’ll charge me an arm as opposed to an arm and a leg, you conniving-"
“You did say you’d finance the wedding-"
“-I did not-"
“You did, dear. All of our witnesses are here.”
In the end, Roger was faced with the difficult task of letting go by bickering with his friends and wife of his son’s hopefully distant wedding plans. He cursed his past self’s careless promise but will abide by his word nonetheless as his witnesses will hardly let him forget.
He’ll get over it. Eventually.
***
In two years, when Ace will announce that he has a girlfriend - a girlfriend! - over the family table and Sabo’s following congratulations will shock them silent, Roger will be met with strange disappointment over an event he’d been long waiting for.
Months later, Roger will find himself sitting under the stars on his porch, comforting a heartbroken boy poorly hiding his tears. He will think of the past, of the arguments, and the painful letting go, and laugh.
Roger would laugh at how far he’s come, willingly and happily giving his son away to a boy he’d proudly call his son-in-law.