Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of violence, depictions of death, trauma and language.

(y/n)= Your name

(e/c) = Eye color

(hlc) = Hair color 

(h/l) = Hair length 

Taking a breath, you struggled to pull air into your lungs. The walls of smoke almost as unbearable as the heat licking at your back. All around you, the fire seemed to illuminate every blocked exit. Every chance of escape cruelly burning just out of reach. And yet, it was the lack of sound that truly terrified you. The absence of their screams made you think the worst as you were left to your fate within the city of flames. 

Turning a corner, you desperately tried to keep the smoke from entering your airway as your eyes burned in protest. No matter which path you took, it always seemed to bring you back to a similar sight. Huge piles of burning logs placed strategically along the roads to freedom. Blocking any hope for those left within the walls to ever taste life again. Beyond the burning blooms lay the laughing faces of those responsible. Their swords raised in cheer as their white skull flag waved overhead. The jolly roger proudly on display for all to see through the inferno.

As if their crime of genocide wasn’t awful enough, they would encourage those that made it to the outer rim to jump the blaze. If the fire did not claim your life, the steel of their blades would. The group of pirates more than ready to finish whatever survivors the fire left. The bodies of women and children alike lying bloody at their feet. 

Once more trying to gain your barrings, you felt the sting of tears dripping onto burned flesh. Nothing was as it should be. No one was coming to help you and that fact alone was terrifying. They were gone. Everyone you had ever known or loved was now gone. Yet try as the flames might, you still clung to the hope of life. Your feet taking you down ashen roadways to the center of town. 

Taking in the sight of the only building that had yet to be scorched, you dashed for the open doors. The heavy oak slamming shut behind you as you tried once more to clear your lungs of smoke. Around you lay the bodies of those that weren’t as lucky. Their faces stained with ash and patterned with burns. 

Turning your (e/c) eyes from the sight, you forced yourself deeper into the temple. Every muscle in your body shaking with the effort as you coughed out clouds of smog. This was it, you were going to die. 

Using the wall as a guide, you found your way into the center of the temple. The large Buddhist statue standing tall as tears rolled freely down your face. You didn’t want to die! You didn’t want it to end here! But as you looked at the statue, you could feel your strength leaving you. There was nothing left, even your body seemed to embrace your impending end. Yet, just as hope faded from you, the movement of a body near the statue’s feet caught your attention. 

Laying below the Budda was the village elder. A man you had long since grown to love and trust in your short life. Tumbling your way over to him, you gently reached out with burned fingers. His dark eyes opening as he gave a weak smile. You both knew this was where it would end, but at least you wouldn’t be alone when death came for you. 

Helping the man to sit upright, you paused as he handed you a small white and blue speckled fruit. The exterior texture was soft beneath your touch as the elder encouraged you to eat it. To take revenge by denying those thugs what they truly wanted. His words becoming a haze as darkness folded in around you. The ringing in your ears became so intense that it was only when air passed over your face that you dared to open your eyes again. 

Below you the city stretched out like an illusion. Bodies lay scattered where the flames had claimed their lives. Entire families annihilated by the power of the inferno. While those that were unlucky enough to chance jumping the blaze, lay slain at the feet of the criminals who had started this nightmare. Everything you had loved now lay beneath mountains of ash and smoke as you floated above the chaos. The red of the fire only outdone by the red of blood that painted the streets you once called home. 

The sight was one you knew you would never forget. Yet as you looked into the faces of the pirates below you, you saw no remorse. Their heartless eyes remaining glued to your body as it flew above them. As if nothing leading up to this hell was of consequence to them. And it was then that you knew this wasn’t over. Despite having fought the odds, you were no safer now than you had been in the warm glow of the embers. The greed in their bodies radiating up to you as they pulled the trigger.

Feeling the world slow, your (e/c) eyes took in the sight of the weapon as it was aimed at your frame. The feathers of the arrow cutting a direct path across the sky to your body as panic filled your veins. This was it! You had managed to break free, but in the end, it didn't matter. Feeling the metal tip of the arrowhead zeroing in, you bottled upright in bed. The phantom pain stretching across your body as your nails dug into the flesh above the scar on your shoulder. Your eyes wide as sweat dripped from your face and your breath came in shallow puffs. Every inch of your body now shaking from the adrenaline caused by the memories.

Quickly scanning the chamber around you, you tried to ground yourself in the present. The wooden bars of that cage replaced with the earthen walls of white plaster within your room. The heat of the flames fading with the cool breeze that drifted throughout your home. And the faded pain of their cruelty, a distant memory drowned out by the sounds of the nature around you.

It had been a dream, just a nightmare.

Pulling your shaking hand from your shoulder, you felt the faint sting of injuries long healed. The dull pain tingling across your tired frame as the dream began to fade. How long had it been since the last time you dreamed of that day? How many years had passed since that time? And yet, it still seemed to haunt you. Then again, perhaps it always would. It had been a defining portion of your life. A portion that would always stick with you, no matter how many years you put between yourself and it. Still, you would be damned if you let it control you as it had before. 

Taking a deep breath, you tried once more to remind yourself that you were safe. Talking yourself down until the shaking in your hands quieted and you could once more breathe without the weight of panic in your chest. You were safe, it was over, you were free. And no one would ever again control you. 

Lifting your (e/c) gaze from your hands, you put on a somber smile before slipping out of bed and readying yourself for the day. Outside your windows, the sun bathed the world in light and warmth. Birds sang their morning songs as distant clouds painted the blue of the horizon with white. And miles from your shore, a young heart brewed with mischief as waves crashed against the ship he called home. His black eyes and dark freckles striking mistrust into everyone in his path. 

Pausing in his efforts as a pair of blue orbs washed over his frame, Ace turned just in time to see Marco pinch the bridge of his nose. 

“What are you doing yoi?” The blonde asked, already knowing the answer would be something he disapproved of. 

“I’m setting up a prank to get Thatch back for all the pepper he put in my bread last week.” Ace grinned, turning back to balancing the bucket of sludge above Thatch’s office. 

Sighing, Marco tried his best to ignore the sheer stupidity of the childish prank war his brothers were currently caught up in. What had started with hot sauce in someone’s coffee, was quickly getting out of hand. If they kept escalating like this, he was going to be seeing both of them more often in the med bay. Not that he wasn’t already treating Thatch for some progressively worsening cold symptoms. Still, it never ceased to amaze him just how immature the second division commander could be. 

“I’m not sure that’s going to work.” Marco frowned, turning his gaze back to the items listed on his clipboard. 

“Oh yeah? And why is that?” Ace asked, his smile turning to confusion at Marco’s words. 

“I have Thatch on bed rest today to see if we can curb his cough,” Marco informed him. “He won’t be in anytime soon yoi.”

Frowning, Ace let out a loud groan as his prank was thwarted. He had spent the last two hours digging all this sludge out of the gutters for this prank and now it was going to go to waste. 

“Can’t you just heal his lungs or something?” Ace whined, the frown growing on his face as Marco dug deep into his reserve of patience. “You know with your phoenix fire?”

Letting out another sigh, Marco felt his age show in the lines between his knitted brows. Honestly, ever since Ace had joined the crew he could swear his wrinkles were getting worse. 

“No, I can’t.” Marco huffed, lowering his clipboard to halfway glare at the young commander.

“Huh? But you healed those people who had that smoke issue.” He gawked, finally getting down from the chair he was standing on. 

“Yes, but those people had physical damage to their tracheas and lung tissue due to smoke inhalation,” Marco explained, taking the bucket of sludge from Ace before he could make another of his famous messes. “Thatch’s issue isn’t physical, he’s sick yoi. And the only cure for being sick is proper medication and rest. Unfortunately, I can only treat his symptoms, nothing else.”

Frowning at Marco’s explanation, Ace gave a defeated kick. He hated when the blonde made sense. Especially if it meant that his fun was put to an end. 

“Well, when is he going to get better? He’s been coughing for days.” Ace pouted, dark eyes meeting blue ones.

“I’m not sure.” Marco frowned, his gaze softening at the concern written on his friend’s face. “I’m sure he will be back to his old self in no time, but until then. How are your reports coming along? I’m still missing the ones from last week.”

Blinking at the blonde’s question, Ace gave a sheepish smile as Marco exhaled loudly.

What a pain.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

Chapter Warnings: Illness & language  

(Y/n) = Your name

(E/c) = Eye Color

(F/c) = Favorite Color

Heavy, the air felt unbearably thick and heavy. Daring to glance up from his reports, Deuce could almost feel the electricity in the room as Marco set down another book. The ever-growing stack of dead ends, now towering well past fifteen. 

Frowning, Deuce tried to focus on the paper in front of him, but even he had to admit that the nurses had been right to worry. When was the last time Marco had gotten any sleep? Between the bags under the commander's eyes and the ever-empty coffee cup, it was no wonder everyone felt like they were walking on eggshells. Not that he could blame the poor sap. Despite all their best efforts, Thatch’s condition wasn’t getting any better. On the contrary, the cook seemed to be steadily declining as the weeks went by. While it hadn’t been anything overly noticeable at first, no one could deny the chef had seen better days. 

Setting his reports aside, Deuce decided a break was well overdue. They could all use a moment to regroup, and this obviously wasn’t going anywhere fast. If they continued to burn themselves out, it would do nothing to aid their brother. The best course of action was to take an hour and breath. Not that convincing the doctor would be any easier of a task than digging through the mountains of text they still had.

“Marco,  why don't you-” He started, his words quickly cut off as the first division commander shook his head. 

“I’m fine. Focus on getting your reports done yoi.” 

Lifting an unimpressed brow, Deuce regarded the nervous glances shared by the nurses as he pressed on. Why were pirates so goddamn stubborn? Was it something they were born with or did it just come with the territory? 

“You need to take a break. If you keep this up, you’ll be joining Thatch in one of the beds.” He frowned, Marco, lifting his gaze for a moment before continuing to scan the pages of possible illnesses. 

“I told you, I’m fine.”

“Alright, but be that as it may, you still need a break. You’ve been at this for more than four days, everyone is getting worried.” Deuce pressed. 

Sighing, Marco finally sat back in his chair and regarded the man before him. His eyes blurry as they adjusted to the added distance in his field of vision. Behind the blurb of blue hair, lay many of the nurses who had momentarily stopped in their work to observe the two. The number of nervous and distressed faces growing as his sight cleared. 

“I can go a little longer yoi.” He reassured with a smile.

“It's not a matter of if you ‘can’, it’s a matter if you should.” Deuce corrected, his frown growing as Marco gave a stretch. 

“We ‘should' have found something by now.” Marco groaned, his muscles stiffer than he remembered. “Until we find something useful, I’m not giving up yoi.” 

“We’re not asking you to. Just that you take a break and maybe try a different tactic. Have you gone over any of the reports from our allies?” Deuce asked, referring to the inquiry they had sent out two weeks ago to other fleets in hopes of finding some kind of answer to Thatch’s worsening condition. 

“None from last week,” Marco confessed. “Did Bay finally get back to us about the library search she was doing?” He inquired, the question going unanswered as Deuce shrugged. 

“I haven’t heard anything, then again Haruta was in charge of communications this week. I’m sure he would know if you asked.” he grinned, knowing this was the perfect excuse to get the commander out of the office. 

Letting out a long sigh, Marco rubbed his neck before giving in and standing from his desk. Seem no one was going to let up until he took a break. Why fight it?

“Right. You’ll see to the inventory reports then yoi?” He asked, watching Deuce nod. 

“Consider it done.” Deuce grinned. “Now for the love of everything holy, take a break. And maybe a shower while you're at it.” 

Rolling his eyes, Marco fixed the man with a pointed look before taking his leave. He knew they meant well, but with Thatch getting sicker by the day, they couldn’t afford a lapse in concentration. He didn’t want to think of what might happen if they didn’t catch a break soon. 

What had started with a cough, had quickly turned into aches and now a fever. And while the medication had kept the cook stable at first. It seemed like the ever-increasing doses just weren't making a difference. Thatch was still suffering and despite his best efforts, Marco couldn’t figure out why! 

None of his brother’s symptoms were particularly uncommon, but their prolonged hold was concerning. They matched almost every illness he knew of, and yet none of the treatments had any effect. It was as if the illness was everything and nothing at the same time. Then there was the rash…

It had started two nights ago. A few red patches that burn at the slightest touch. They had thought it was a reaction to one of the medications the nurses gave him, but when they persisted into this morning it was clear it was yet another symptom.

Rubbing his face, Marco paused in his path when he caught sight of his reflection in one of the portholes. He looked like hell. Perhaps a shower was in order. Then again it's not like some hot water would fix the bags under his eyes. He was certain he would give a panda a run for its money at this point. Nevertheless, he headed for his room after grabbing the nearest subordinate to get him the reports from Haruta. Might as well multitask while he was at it. 

Smiling down at the little girl, you felt your heart go out to her. She was trying her best to put on a brave face, but anyone could see that she was seconds from tears. The sting of the antiseptic had been a little more than what she was anticipating. And now she was doing her best to keep from crying as you finished wrapping the injury. 

“There, all done.” You smiled, the little girl giving a small sniffle. 

“Am I going to be okay?” She asked sullenly. “My brother said you were going to have to cut my leg off.” 

Blinking at the girl's confession, you couldn’t help but laugh as you tried to reassure her. 

“No, I don’t think it's ‘that ’ dire of an injury.” You grinned, the girl’s mother rolling her eyes and gently smacking her son’s shoulder. 

The boy ducked his head sheepishly in response as guilt rose in a pink hue upon his cheeks. The sight of his blush filling your smile with warmth as you observed the family. While the children seemed to have their differences, one could see the worry they shared. It was obvious that despite his teasing, her brother did care about her condition. 

“Honestly, I don’t know where they get it from.” Their mother sighed, her tired voice drawing your attention back to your work as you grinned.

“Oh, I’m sure they get it from their father. I can’t count the number of times I’ve treated him for silly injuries over the years.” You said politely, moving to gently place a hand over the girl’s knee. 

“Now, you take care of yourself and be a little more careful next time you decide to play on the stones by the shore. Those mean old rocks tend to be slick when the tide goes out.” You warned, the little girl nodding her head in understanding. “Be sure to change the bandages every night before bed, and the cut should heal up in no time.” you grinned. 

“Oh thank you (Y/n)! I’m not sure what we do without you.” Their mother smiled, her hand coming out to shake yours as you gave a small bow.

“It’s nothing really. Just be sure she keeps the cut clean and we can call it even.” You bargained before the woman shook her head. 

“Really now, at least allow us to cook you dinner one of these nights. Between the medication for my husband's arthritis and ointment for her fall, I feel like I’m cheeping you.” The woman pressed, her hand coming to rest on her hip as the girl went to stand with her brother. 

“Yeah! You should come over. I’ve been learning to bake with daddy! We’ll make you some of our famous bread!” She cheered.

“Oh, and then I can show you the progress my stick bug has been making!” The boy added, happily agreeing with his sister. 

“Is it still getting around well without its back leg?” You inquired, the boy nodding. “Good to hear. If it helps I would be happy to join you for dinner this week, but honestly you don’t need to go through the trouble. I’m fine with just knowing that you all are alright.”

“Nonsense! You’ve never trouble my dear.” the woman smiled.

“Hmm, I’m not sure you truly know me then.” You teased back, pausing for a moment before reaching into the basket of powders, ointments, and medications. “And, before I forget, here.” You beamed, pulling out a small pouch of herbs. “This should help get the smell out of your family’s clothing. Nana mentioned it earlier this week during her visit, and I figured I could whip something up.”

Taking the powder, the woman once again rolled her eyes before pulling you into a tight hug. 

“(Y/n)! You’re spoiling us!” she huffed as you laughed. 

“I can’t help it! I want to make sure I secure my spot this winter for some of your candied fruit. Never hurts to keep on the good side of the people with the best food.” You smirked, bending down to hug her children as well. 

“If that's the case, maybe I should mention the fresh batch of candied oranges I made the other day. If all it takes is some fancy sweets to get you to join us, I’d be happy to oblige.” The woman chuckled. 

“Gah! You’re killing me!” You whined. “You know I can’t say no to that. How about tomorrow then? I’ll stop in after my rounds and stay till dinner. That way, we get more than a few hours to catch up. It’s been much too long since the last time.”

“You’ve got a deal.” The woman smiled, her kids cheering happily as you took your leave. 

“We’ll see you then!” She called after you, watching as you waved over your shoulder. 

You still had a few deliveries before the day ended, and you needed to get moving. Not that you hadn’t enjoyed stopping in to see the family. It was just that as the sun moved across the sky, you hoped to finish your rounds before it set any further. Your morning having been spent racing around the forest as you lost track of time. That being said, it had been a very productive day so far. 

You were able to get all six of your orders from last week filled and see to several situations that had popped up during your visit to town. While you had acquired a few notices for refills on certain medications, it had been a fairly easy-going day. Not that it had started as such. 

Having woken up late, you'd been pressed for time collecting herbs and berries in the woods on your island. The tall trees blocking the sun as you spent entirely too many hours playing in nature before realizing that, yes, you still had a job to do. Said job being to provide medication and treatment to many of the people within the village. 

While most would think that such a small village would be hard-pressed for resources. The fact was, that the island was bountiful in terms of raw materials. The forest provided ample wood for houses and structures, while the rich farmland around the village meant crops were bountiful. Add to that, the islands almost year-round sunshine and food was hardly ever of worry. However, that didn’t mean that the island wasn’t free of its hardships. 

Cut off from the rest of the world, the isle didn’t see many visitors. It was uncommonly rare for anyone to venture past the stretch of wild space that surrounded the island. And as such, trade on and off the island was somewhat risky. If you could manage to get past the rough seas, the gangs of petty criminals, and pirates, then it was a matter of sea kings dragging ships under.

So in general, there always seemed to be a lack of visitors, but you liked it that way. No one ever bothered you here or came looking for you. Here on the island, you were safe from the dangers of a cruel world, if not a little bored from time to time. 

You see, you had washed ashore on the island many years ago. And after being taken in by the local healer, you had learned the trade of medicine. When the old healer died, you naturally took their place and began to treat the people of this village. In exchange for your help, the villagers often gave you food, clothing, and anything else you could ever need. Not that you never asked for much. 

When outsiders did come to the island, they were generally treated as guests and welcomed with open arms. The village never passing up the opportunity to trade. Which meant that over the years they accumulated one or two regulars. Yet, if there was ever a need for specific items, it fell to the more experienced sailors to venture out. But this was how you lived. It was quiet, simple, and most of all, peaceful. 

Glancing down at packages you had left to deliver, you couldn’t help but smile at the gifts you had been given. The (f/c) shirt and new sandals being your favorite goodies of the day. Although the small bundle of wildflowers came in a close second. 

The sight of them filling you with a warmth you once thought never possible. Still, the daylight was fading faster than your feet were moving. And as you regarded the shifting sun, you accepted that you might be in for another moon-lit walk home this evening. What could be more perfect?

Ruffling the towel a few times, Marco let the damp fabric rest on his shoulders as he exited the shower. Billows of steam seeping into the cold of the room as he let out a tired sigh. Deuce had been right, a shower was exactly what he needed. Even if it had taken up more time than he expected it to. The minutes slipping through his fingers like the droplets of hot water. Poetic really.

However, that didn't excuse his lack of focus. Despite the few moments of peace, Marco still found himself being weighed down with worry. Was Thatch doing okay? Would the steam from a shower help him? When was his last dose of medication? 

Shifting around in the dark of his room, Marco was quick to find a fresh pair of clothes before taking his leave and heading for the dining hall. With any luck, he could find something to eat before returning to the mountains of text he still needed to sort through. Not to mention the reports from their allies. 

That food being none other than yet another cup of coffee and some leftover bread dish. It wasn't the most appetizing meal he had ever eaten, but with the star of the kitchen out for the count, it was better than nothing. If he was being honest, it was more than he could make, even if it was in dire need of some salt. 

Letting out a sigh, Marco managed to finish his meal and pick up the pile of reports on his desk before a distant cough drew his attention. The quiet of the room abrasively disrupted by the weak sound as he frowned. Feet taking him across the wood floors until he reached the medbay and took in the sight of Thatch. The poor cook letting out another dry crackle before his breathing finally evened out enough for him to relax. 

“Pretty sad huh?” Thatch grinned, his eyes drifting to the doorway as Marco made his way in and set the stack of papers aside. 

“It's not the best you’ve ever looked,” Marco smirked, his smile faltering as Thatch gave a ragged chuckle. “How are you feeling yoi?” 

“Hmm, like I’ve been wandering the desert for three days without water while carrying a boulder on my chest.” Thatch grinned, his eyes shutting for a moment. 

“When did you last have your meds?” Marco inquired, his hands already reaching for the medical chart at the end of Thatch’s bed. 

“Don't know...too foggy.” Thatch huffed. 

“Looks like your last dose was about four hours ago. I’ll get you another yoi.” Marco smiled, moving to prepare the next round of medication.

“Woo bring on the party.” Thatch joked weakly, a single hand raising halfway in a fist. 

At the very least the cook had kept his sense of humor through this whole ordeal. 

“So...any news doc? Have you stumbled upon some kind of hoodoo to fix me up yet?” 

“I’m afraid not, but something will come up yoi,” Marco answered, coming to sit in the chair next to the chef. “We just have to keep searching.” 

“Somehow I feel as if you might have an easier time finding Atlantis.” Thatch teased, his eyes opening as Marco sat beside him. 

“Maybe,” Marco admitted, offering the regular pills and water. “But something will give...it always does. We just have to hold out a little longer.” 

“Right, and maybe I’ll grow gills while we’re at it.” Thatch laughed, sitting up just enough to swallow the medication before collapsing back down in another fit of coughing. “...we both know it's not looking good.”

Frowning, Marco felt the muscles in his chest squeeze. He couldn’t imagine the pain his brother was in, but if Thatch gave up fighting it wouldn't take long for the illness to win.

“We’ve faced longer odds…You’ll make it,” Marco reassured him.

“If you say so, doc…” Thatch grinned, his eyes drifting to the papers as Marco reached for them. “What's that? Another stack of shooting stars to wish on?” 

“Hum, in a manner of speaking yoi.” Marco sighed. “It’s a stack of reports from our allies that Haruta took. So far it's been nothing but dead ends. But you never know, one of these may just have the answer to our prayers.” 

“Right, well here's to hoping.” Thatch huffed softly, his eyes becoming distant. 

“...You’ll get through this, I promise.” Marco frowned, his hand resting on the cook’s shoulder. “You just need to hang on yoi.”

“I’ll do my best.” 

“Good, get some rest. Someone will wake you for your next round in the morning.” Marco smiled, watching Thatch give a nod before shuffling to get comfortable. 

He knew it couldn’t be easy, having to fight day in and day out. Hell, a weaker man would have given up and perished by now, but not Thatch. Thatch was tough, and if anyone was going to beat this thing, it was going to be him. They just had to keep trying, keep searching until they found the answer. 

Watching as the chef’s breathing evened out, Marco started on the stack of papers. His eyes drifting carefully over every word while he scanned the pages. The sentences blurring together during the early hours of the morning when sleep overtook him. By then, he had managed to get through most of the reports with little to show. Yet, as the light began to filter through the portholes, Marco found himself being pulled from his slumber by the sounds of ruffling sheets. The noise coming from Thatch as another wave of fever set in. 

Frowning, Marco dragged his hand over his face. This couldn’t continue for much longer. He needed to find something that would help Thatch, anything! 

Sitting up to retrieve a damp cloth for the cook, Marco looked at the last handful of reports he had left to read. His eyes burning at the thought of scanning over them when it felt so hopeless. As if the parchment was mocking him with false hope. Each page as pointless as the last, and every article a bitter reminder of his failure. Still, he knew if he didn’t read them, then he couldn’t say he was doing everything he could. So as he finished wiping down his friend’s brow, Marco returned to his dutiful reading. Blue eyes lost in a sea of words until a particular section piqued his interest. 

Leaning forward in his chair, Marco narrowed his gaze at the report. While it hadn’t been the news he was expecting from Whitey Bay, it certainly held more promise than anything else. It appeared that her library search had been a bust for any kind of medical cure. However, she had found several reports of sailors claiming to have been shipwrecked on a strange island. An island that was said to be home to a mythical creature of sorts. One that was able to rip a man to shreds with its powerful talons or save a person from worldly harm. 

While Bay hadn’t thought much of it at first, she discovered that a few of these reports had been filed as recently as a year ago. In fact, the time stamps seemed to line up on an annual basis. Almost every year, between October and December the little town was visited by an unmarked ship carrying goods from an unknown island. Many of the passengers on the ship claiming to have seen the creature from the reports in person. The only trouble being that the locals believe the ship hails from a stretch of the sea known as the storm belt. Yet, the most peculiar thing about these accounts was what the local historian had said about them.

After tracking down the old man, he claims that what the sailors had encountered was none other than a fallen angel. A spirit of pure light who cast all pains, illness, and sin from the body. And while each retelling was a little different, the historian was absolut that the creature the men spoke of was a dangerous beast. True the beast could heal with a single touch, but it could also kill. It was a monster said to have feathers as white as snow, that lived on an island protected by the sea gods themselves. If not a fallen angel, then what else could it be?

It wasn’t much of a lead, yet rereading her words, Marco felt the first spark of hope he had in weeks. Bay may not believe that an 'angel' was living here on earth, but she was adamant that something out there was healing people. People who seemed to be too sick to save. Whether it was a magical being or not, the truth of the matter was that someone was helping to cure those in need. If nothing else, the ‘angel’ was a skilled healer. One with enough knowledge to make advanced tonics and herbal remedies for those that could find the forbidden island.  

Furrowing his brows at the report, Marco read over the rest of what Bay had to say. His heart racing at the picture she painted in his head. What kind of creature could heal any sickness but still be able to make medicine? Moreover, was this a lead worth chasing given Thatch’s condition? If they were wrong about this, it was time that they simply didn’t have to gamble with. Thatch needed help and he needed it now. But was it worth trying to sail through the storm belt to an island that may, or may not, exist if it meant finding a cure-all? 

Lowering the paper, Marco turned his eyes to the cook as another ragged cough filled the room. He needed to talk to pops, and he was positive it wasn’t going to go over well. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 3 

Chapter Warnings: Language 

Watching as their captain’s brows knitted together, Bay’s crew stood just outside of her office while she continued to glare down at the tattered book in her hands. The dusty journal having been a gift from the town's historian that apparently contained the earliest known record of the fabled ‘angel’. Its pages a mixture of poorly written daily accounts and concerning mystery stains. Yet between the weathered lines of ink, Bay was starting to put together a rough timeline of a seemingly forgotten story. The tale being both compelling and disturbing in its own right. 

From what she could discern, between the jumbled words and scribbled out mistakes. The journal once belonged to a seasoned sailor. The faded dates on the pages stretching back well over a decade and depicting what Bay could only conclude must have been a rowdy bunch of midlevel pirates. Their various adventures recorded in the numerous sheets of the man’s journal. 

Adventures such as their time spent in the North Blue plundering many of the smaller outlying islands. Islands much like the one that the man claims was home to his captain’s most prized treasure. A treasure that was written to be some sort of weapon. 

While the passages were unclear as to what kind of weapon the crew had acquired. It was clear that this weapon had the power to wipe out entire vessels of heavily armed navy convoys. The man noting that ‘It swept over the sides of the enemy ship like a fog through a valley. The mist bringing a quiet more still than the calm belt on a windless day.’.

Frowning as the narrative continued, Bay found herself pondering the slight possibility that these men had actually managed to capture a real angel. The description of this secret weapon changing from a mist, to a being with luminescent white wings. ‘I knew I shouldn’t have approached, but as the lightning caught the glitter of those impressive wings I couldn’t help myself. I had to have a feather. Just one, and only if to prove to the world that my words were true. But alas, I only received a trip to the infirmary for my efforts. The stupid beast unwilling to part with a single one of its ivory quills.’.

In all honesty, Bay almost felt sorry for the beast. From what she could tell, the creature had been stolen from its home and forced to travel with people who only sought to abuse its abilities. Much like Kotatsu before Ace had rescued him. It was then no wonder that the creature seemed so keen to attack people. However, Bay had yet to come across any evidence that this creature was capable of healing anyone. Its only use appearing to be in the termination of vessels that stood in the captain’s way. Still, she pressed on in her reading, the story changing shortly after the halfway point. 

Doing her best to make heads of the final passages, Bay found herself piecing together the final parts of the puzzle. The last recorded date alining perfectly with the first paper report given by the village. Almost a year to the day after the man stopped writing, the first report of a mysterious creature living on a lost island within the storm belt surfaces. Similar reports then being filed on an annual basis during the months of October and December when sailing through the raging sea temporarily quiets. Yet, it was only until a few years ago that the reports seemed to change from a dangerous creature to a mysterious healer. 

Sitting back in her chair to absorb the information, Bay carefully considered every detail she had learned. She knew Marco would be looking for any kind of tangible evidence that this thing actually existed to build a case for pursuing it. She also understood that given this creature was more than likely the same one kidnapped by the sailor’s captain, it probably didn't take kindly to pirates showing up on its island. Which one could infer from the reports that stated the island was home to a dangerous monster, instead of a mysterious healer.

Bay then finally concluded that at some point the sailors must have made a mistake in letting the creature lose. Considering that there was no follow-up journal or paper to read, it was likely the creature had taken its revenge on those that had held it captive, before then taking refuge on the protected island. Which meant that sending Pops and the others to find this all-powerful healer would have to be done covertly until Thatch was treated. If this 'angel' caught wind of Newgate and the others being pirates, it wasn't likely to end well for anyone.

Shouldn’t be too hard right? It's not like two of their more prominent commanders walked around half dressed with their Jolly rogers hanging out. What could possibly go wrong?

Listening to the bickering as the volume in the cabin continued to rise, Marco felt what little patience he had quickly fading. They had been at this debate for almost three hours now and were no closer to making a decision than when they started. They being himself, the other fourteen commanders, and Whitebeard, as everyone voiced their opinions on the next course of action. 

Having brought up the report from Whitey Bay, it was only natural for Newgate to call a meeting to discuss the findings. Each commander making valid points on why, or why not, they thought Bay’s report was a viable lead. Matters of timing, practicality, and a fair amount of skepticism bounced off the walls as Marco finally reached his threshold. The blonde pinching the bridge of his nose before opening his mouth to silence the chaos.

“OI! Enough!” He shouted, the room coming to a quiet hum as everyone pulled apart and focused their attention. “Nothings going to get done if we keep talking over each other yoi.” He frowned, his eyes lifting to the gathered men as they nodded and allowed one another space to talk. 

“Look, if we don’t try we are wasting a chance to possibly save Thatch.” Haruta started, his voice tired but steady. 

“However, there is no guarantee that we won’t just be chasing after myths.” Vista countered, his fingers mindful playing with his mustache while he thought. 

“Given how dangerous the passage is, it would be ill-advised for anyone to attempt such a journey,” Fossa mumbled. 

“Were pirates, when has danger ever stopped us?” Ace huffed. “Thatch needs us, we can’t just sit back and ignore this!”

“We can’t exactly risk it either. If the journey doesn’t kill Thatch, then the wasted time will.” Izo quipped, the two men falling back into snipping at one another as Ace continued to argue. Their conversation soon dragging the rest of the group into another round of verbal punches while Marco tried to calm his growing headache. This wasn’t going anywhere fast.  

“I understand that it’s risky, but what choice do we have?!” Marco finally growled. Izo crossing his arms at the rise in the first division commander's voice as the room once more fell silent. “Thatch is running out of time and we don’t have any other leads yoi!”

“But if we end up at the bottom of the ocean trying to cross that storm belt, then we all run out of time!” Izo countered as Ace frowned.

“And here I thought, I was usually the impulsive one.” Ace sighed. 

“I’m not being impulsive.” Marco snapped, his volume lowering as he took a breath. “I followed up with Bay to see if there really was anything to this report. While she couldn’t get any straight answers about a physical description, she would beat her crew’s lives on the honesty of these accounts. She said the people were adamant in their claims. Whether it's an actual ‘angel ’ or not, something or someone out there is healing people yoi.” 

“Yeah, ‘something’ that people claim can rip a man apart in a manner of seconds.” Vista frowned. “Even if we manage to find this thing how can we be sure it won't simply attack us on sight-” 

“All we’re asking, is if you’re sure this is a path you want to pursue?” Juzo cut in, his face slightly more reserved than the others gathered in the room. 

“It does seem like a long shot,” Haruta added. 

“If you’re wrong about this, it's unlikely Thatch will-” Izo started.

“I know.” Marco sighed, his eyes and voice filled with exhaustion as he stared down at the report in his hand. His mind a muddled mess as he tried to sort through everything Bay had told him about the reports and the musty old journal she had found. With any luck, he would be getting his hands on it soon, but that still left a lot to the unknown.

“Are you sure?” 

Shifting his gaze from the paper to his captain, Marco felt the weight of the question fall like a boulder across his chest. If he was wrong, Thatch would be too weak to hold out for another option. Hell, just getting him safely across the raging sea would put a strain on the cook's already weakened body. But what other choice did they have? 

“It's all we've got,” Marco answered, the tension in the room shifting with sorrowful understanding. Every face turning to Whitebeard as the captain thoughtfully gazed down at his defeated son. A string of unspoken communication drifting between the two when their eyes met.

“Very well. Start the preparations for our venture, but understand we will be sailing into uncharted waters. This island is well beyond the safety of our territory, we will be on our own after crossing the border.” Newgate warned. 

“Great, so pirates and the navy. What else is new?” Ace puffed, his comment causing Whitebeard to laugh.

“Gahahahah, that's the least of our worries.” 

“Even if we manage to get past the obvious obstacles, we still have to cross the storm belt.” Izo pointed out. 

“And what’s so scary about that? We see crazy weather all the time on the Grand Line.” Ace countered, his face unimpressed as Haruta shook his head. 

“The storms will be more intense due to the naturally warm waters in the area. The local currents run rich with sediment and nutrients which also makes it a haven for many different kinds of marine life, including sea kings.” Juzo stressed, his words seeming to finally get the point across. 

“Eh, bring them on! I can handle a few sea kings.” Ace bragged, his attitude helping to lift the spirits of the other commanders. Marco remaining quiet as the smallest of smiles pulled at his lips. Despite the crew's agreement, it was clear that the phoenix still had his own reservations about this plan. 

“Have faith, my son. Thankfully it's not very often that you are wrong.” Whitebeard smiled, his hand coming to rest on the blonde’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, but what if this time…” Marco hesitated, his voice as thoughtful as his tired gaze.

“Then your family will be here. If you do not trust in yourself, then trust in them. Thatch is a strong and courageous man, he understands his situation well. If his time comes, then it comes. But until then, we will fight for him with everything we’ve got.” Newgate promised, his words helping to ease the burden on Marco’s heart. 

Pops was right. No matter the outcome, they would all be there for each other. And while Marco wasn’t willing to give up on his search for a more practical cure, it helped to know they had some kind of plan in place. They would travel to the town to stock up before heading for the island. Using the time in between to continue their research while Bay locked down witness accounts from the locals. It wasn’t much, but it was all they had. 

Come hell or high water, they were doing this. All he could do now was continue to pray for Thatch’s sake that this was the right course of action.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

Chapter Warnings: Language 

(Y/n) = Your Name

(E/c) = Eye Color

Looking out over the sea, Marco let a quiet sigh escape his lips as the dock below him bustled with activity. The crew buzzing like a hive of bees while they stocked the ship for their next venture. Beside him, Bay sorted out her well-intentioned warning with Pops before making her way over and bumping her shoulder into the silent commander. His composure having worried her since the moment the Moby Dick had settled in the harbor.

“Looks like you pulled out all the stops, I’m impressed. You’ve come a long way from some half-cocked apprentice running off before his brain can catch up.” Bay teased, her words being met with a good-natured eye roll. 

“Hmm, thanks. It's a shame you’re still the same overbearing pain in the neck you’ve always been yoi.” Marco fired back, his shoulder getting a firm slug for his offense. 

“I take it back, you are still the same bratty punk I knew... How are you holding up?” She asked, her smile faltering with concern as he shrugged. 

“I’m fine, it's Thatch I’m worried about.” 

“Obviously, kind of hard to imagine you going to these lengths for just any two-bit chef with a heart of gold.” She grinned. “Still, you don’t look fine, you look exhausted. You should listen to your family and get some rest this stretch. Thatch was right to say that he thought by the end of this you would look worse than him.” 

Raising a brow, Marco couldn’t help but shake his head. Of course, she had already gone to see Thatch. Why wouldn’t she? It's not like the two didn’t have years of history fighting together. However, that didn't ease the sting of the gossip that clearly went on behind his back.

“Yeah well, what is that people say yoi? There ain’t no rest for the wicked?” Marco smirked, his eyes meeting Bay’s as she shook her head. Her hand raising to brush a strand of his messed up hair out of his face before letting it rest on his shoulder. 

“You aren’t wicked Marco, you’re a man. A man that needs every ounce of his strength for what's to come. Those seas are violent on the best of days, and if you’re not operating at your peak, it may bite more than just you in the ass.” 

“Humph, since when did you become one to worry?” Marco puffed. 

“Since I became captain of my own crew. If I had known you would have grown up this stubborn, I would have worked you harder as an apprentice.” She teased gently, her voice warm with humor. 

Allowing her words to wash over him, Marco turned his attention back to the activities on the docks, a sense of loss looming over him. His search for an actual cure had turned up very few results in the past few days. And despite everyone's best efforts, no one was any closer to figuring out an alternative course of action. Deuce and Bay had done their best to reassure the commander, but Marco had still hoped something would have come up before now. 

“If you doubt the plan, why continue to follow it?” Bay inquired, her voice snapping Marco out of his internal downward spiral. 

“Because it's the only chance Thatch has yoi.” 

“...So I’ll take it your books are coming up short on answers then.” Bay frowned, her eyes tracking Marco as he rubbed at the fatigue on his face. “...If that is the case then, have a little faith.”

“Easier said than done.” Marco huffed. “It's not just Thatch making the journey. If we’re wrong and people get killed, I’m not sure I could live with that yoi. We don’t have any proof that what we are sailing into isn't just a disaster waiting to happen.” He vented, his demeanor tense as every possible negative outcome started to race through his head. “The chance that this is nothing…”

“The island is real and so is the healer. They may not be a magical being from another world, but they are helping others. If nothing else, you may gain an ally that could have the answer to Thatch’s condition. And worst-case scenario they can't help, but Thatch gets one more adventure with his family before his time runs out. It won’t be your fault and you can’t continue to worry like this Marco. Not until you know for sure.” Bay sighed, her arms wrapping around the tired phoenix in a bear hug. “We’ve faced longer odds before with nothing but a drunken story to go on. But if it helps, then here.” she smiled, pulling back enough to hand Marco a dusty weathered book. “It helped to convince me. Maybe it can bring you some level of peace as well.”

Looking at the ragged article, Marco lifted a brow in question. 

“The journal?” He asked septically. 

“Give it a read. It's bound to be vastly more interesting than the next 200 pages of medical text you inevitably will sort through.” Bay grinned, her hand giving Marco’s shoulder a final squeeze as voices started to shout from below. 

With the last of the supplies tucked away underdeck, it was time for them to set out. Whether Marco liked it or not, there was no going back. From this point on, they would stick to the plan and hope for the best. 

“Thanks… We’ll see you on the other side yoi.” Marco smirked, his words catching Bay as she started to take her leave. 

“You better, and bring me back a souvenir! I’ll be waiting for you halfwits here when you get back.” She hollered, her smile filled with pride and love as she descended to the docks. “Oh! And tell Thatch that if he has the audacity to kick the bucket while you’re gone, that I will personally drag his sorry soul back from the afterlife before giving him a piece of my mind.”

Shaking his head Marco couldn’t help the grin that grew on his face. His gloom temporarily lifted at the thought of Bay following through with such a threat. Not that he would put it past her. If anyone could haunt the dead with their furry it was Bay. Nowhere in this life, or the next, would be safe for Thatch should he not heed her warnings. 

“I’ll pass it along yoi,” Marco promised, his eyes glued to Bay’s familiar form as the ship started to pull away and the crew was accounted for. Her steadfast faith in their venture just the pick me up Marco needed before they set out. He missed having her around, but found peace in knowing she would be waiting for their return. Yet as the town and Bay’s smile slowly faded into the distance, the weight of the situation came rushing back in. 

Looking from the journal in his hands to the steadily darkening horizon, Marco took a long breath before heading in to take his shift in the medbay. The sound of the waves gently rocking under the ship helping him to focus for the remainder of the day. Even if his ailing patient was more intent on talking smack than getting any rest. 

Pausing in your work, you couldn't help the smile that slowly grew on your face while you gazed at the horizon. The blue line mercifully interrupted by the appearance of a fishing vessel returning from its trip to sea. Having set sail a few days ago, it was a welcome sight to see it hours from the harbor and more than likely carry the spoils of its voyage.

Joining the others as they made their way to the beach, you were among the crowd of individuals that helped to offload the ship. Your hands eagerly clasping onto the deep water seaweed one of the sailors had brought back for you. 

“Gah! This is amazing, thank you so much Abe.” You swooned, turning the long slimy plant over a few times to inspect it. 

“No problem (Y/n). That was the kind you wanted right?” 

“Yep! The green is the best, but I’ll never pass up the red when it's available.” you grinned, your (e/c) eyes shifting to the weathered face of the man before you.

Abe was one of the oldest and most experienced sailors in the village. As such, it often fell to him or his mother, the village elder Mrs.Huxley, to help sort out the more rare items that you required. The two more than use to your sometimes strange request for specific herbs or plants.

“Well, I’m sure you'll be able to collect all the green seaweed your heart desires before long.” He smirked, his smile causing a cascade of wrinkles to appear on his well-aged brow. 

“Oh? And why is that?” You inquired, your eyes easily tracking the stiff movement of Abe’s shoulders while he stretched out his back. 

“There’s a storm coming, a big one.” He grunted. 

“Really? But there isn’t a cloud in the sky.” You frowned, (e/c) orbs scanning the horizon just to be sure. “How can you be so sure? Did you see something while you were out sailing?”

“Nope, I can feel it.” Abe puffed. “There’s a low-pressure system moving in and from the pop in my joints it's a sizable one. Should stir up all kinds of high winds and buckets of rain. Better be sure to lock down any of your garden beds before mid-week.” He warned, your brow lifting skeptically as you assessed the man’s arthritis. 

“I’ll get right on it. Do you by chance have any more of the collagen tablets I made for you in the meantime? If you take them alongside your pain killers, it should help lessen the pressure in your bones.” you suggested, Mrs. Huxley also overhearing your inquiry as she wandered closer. 

“I have a few. Should be enough to get us both through the storm. However, if you could work up some kind of tonic for the rough patches on his feet while you are at it, I would be most appreciative.” Mrs.Huxley grinned, her silver hair neatly pulled back in a beautiful braid. 

“Of course! I would be happy to whip something up.” You smiled, mentally adding the task to your seemingly endless list of to-dos. “I should be able to get it to you after the storm passes. If it is going to be as bad as Abe says, I’ll probably hunker down for a bit. Say end of the week?” 

“That sounds perfect dear. You positive you’ll be alright on that hillside all on your own?” she asked. Abe coming to stand next to her as he shared her concern.

“I’ll be fine Mrs.Huxley. I’ve weathered many storms before and I’m sure this will be no different than the last dozen or so.” You grinned, your tone causing the old lady to tsk her tongue at you. 

“I don’t see why you won't move closer to the village. A young lady like yourself, all alone in those woods, well it just isn’t safe. What if something were to happen to you and no one could check in on you until it was too late? I’m not sure we could live with yourselves if you got hurt and were left alone to suffer.” She pressed, Abe nodding his head in agreement with his mother. 

“It wouldn’t be too much trouble to move your home down the mountainside. We could set you up just outside of the village’s edge so that you still have your privacy.” He added, his words along with his mothers warming your heart. 

“I’m flattered that you worry, but there is no need. I’m perfectly content living on my own in the woods. And besides, it's easier for me to collect the herbs I need if I’m already living in nature.” You contoured. “I’m not the wayward teen that washed up on your shore anymore. I am capable of taking care of myself.”

“We know, we just want you to be safe.” Mrs. Huxley smiled, her soft leathery hand coming to grip yours as she gave you a slightly disapproving smirk. While she would never force you, she also made a point of making her opinion clear. Her words often reaffirming the love she and the others had for you. 

“I will be, I promise.” You said softly, your hand gently squeezing hers before you turned to her son. “Thank you again for the seaweed, I’ll be sure to get that tonic ready before the next tide hits.” 

“Hmm, take your time, I’m in no rush.” He grinned, his hand resting on your shoulder as you turned to leave. Their kind words echoing warming in your mind while you finished helping to unload the rest of the ship. 

You knew they meant well, they always did. Yet, you could never bring yourself to impose upon their kindness. Ever since the day you washed up half drowned on the beach, the people of the village had been nothing but accepting. Their love and warmth giving you a sense of security while you learned to trust again. 

It hadn’t been easy at first, but as time had gone on you came to accept these people as your friends. Many of them going out of their way to welcome you as if you were family. Which to others may seem like nothing, but to you meant everything. 

No one had pried into your past or questioned your behaviors. They had simply accepted you for who you were and worked with great patience to slowly gain your trust. In return, you vowed to heal their aches and pains as they had yours.

So even now, as you worked together, you dared not to overstep and ask for more. You were so incredibly blessed to have everything you did, and you wouldn’t dream of changing a thing. Even if that earned you the title of the village crazy lady living in the woods. Just the thought of the title bring a proud smile to your face as you worked away the rest of the day. At the very least you weren't the village fool, so ha!

Chapter Text

Chapter 5 

Chapter Warnings: Language, Blood, Violence

Lifting his eyes from the weathered pages, Marco paused in his reading as the sound of the wind increased. The crashing of the waves against the sides of the ship making not only his focus waver, but his vision as well. They had been at sea for a full three days and as they had expected, the weather had only grown steadily worse the further into the storm belt they sailed. The once peaceful rocking, turning to violent thrashing as the ship swayed in the squalls.  

Relenting in his efforts to decipher the seamen’s journal, Marco found himself drawn to the upper deck as bodies scurried about. The voices of Blenheim and Kingdew easily finding him while they hurried to maintain their heading. Others quickly jumping at the menagerie of commands flying around the deck to help keep the Moby Dick steady. At the helm Curiel and Fossa seemed to be doing their best at the wheel to keep the ship on course. Their efforts being met blow for blow by the strong winds and swelling waves. Each commander and deckhand working in turn with one another like a well-oiled machine. 

Making his way across the swaying deck, Marco entered the galley in time to be completely soaked. The heavy rain causing small droplets of water to run down his face and chest before dripping onto the wooden floorboards. The sight being humorous to the second division commander as he offered his drenched friend a spot at the table next to him. 

“Oi! You look like a drowned rat.” Ace commented, shifting slightly as he laughed so that the water dripping off the phoenix fell more on the bench than himself. 

“And you look like an idiot...so not too far from normal yoi.” Marco teased, the two smiling at one another before he set the journal down and went to find something warm to drink. His search leading him to a cup of tea while Ace started to flip through the pages. Dark eyes scanning the passages with interest and confusion. 

“Whoever this guy was, he had worse handwriting than Luffy...and that's saying something.” He scuffed, his onyx orbs squinting at the letters as Marco returned and finally took a seat. “You can read this scribble?”

“More or less. The first few pages were the worst, but once you get used to the penmanship it gets easier.” Marco grinned, his eyes tired from the effort it had taken thus far to decipher the damn thing. “Most of it is pretty useless, to be honest yoi.” 

“Then why read it?” Ace questioned, turning his nose up and relenting in his attempt to understand the abstract nature of the writing. “Seems like a pointless headache to me.”

“Well, you’re not wrong.” Marco huffed, his hands releasing his drink to search for the page he left off on. “However, Bay believed this would help explain the creature better. Maybe give us some kind of insight as to what we are looking for yoi.” 

“And?” Ace smirked. “Has it?”

Feeling a frown pull at the corner of his lips, Marco shrugged. In many ways, the journal held answers as to where this ‘thing’ came from, but nothing about what it actually was. The writing was often sporadic with details, yet captivating enough to keep a reader’s interest. 

“In some ways I suppose, but there is just one thing that's bothering me yoi.” Marco sighed, his face serious as he flipped to the last few entries. 

“Yeah? And what’s that?” Ace asked, his eyes shifting over the phoenix's shoulder again to get a better look at the words on the pages below. 

“What happened to the sailor? I find it hard to believe that a crew, with as powerful of a creature as this, would simply disappear yoi.” Marco voiced, his mind pondering the many possibilities to what could have befallen the men. 

“Hmm... what’s the last thing the guy writes about?” 

“Just some nonsense about stopping in at a small village to restock before heading out to sea again yoi. He never got the chance to finish the entry cause it stops pretty abruptly in comparison to the rest of the journal.” Marco frowned, his cerulean eyes lifting from the weathered pages as Ace continued to squint at the text. 

“Does it? Or were the words washed away? The thing is pretty damaged, it wouldn’t surprise me if the water got to it at some point.” Ace ventured, his words validating one of Marco’s many theories as to why the entries come to a sudden stop. 

“It’s possible,” Marco shrugged. “Considering the journal is over a decade old, is not unlikely that some of the passages would have faded away yoi.” 

“Hmm...let me see that a sec.” Ace hummed, gently grabbing the book and lifting it closer to the light. His eyes and fingers gently running over the last page before allowing the light to pass through the sheet of paper. The added transparency helping to verify Ace’s suspicions as Marco gave him an unimpressed look. 

“What are you doing yoi?” 

“Looking to see if there are any indents left on the paper where the words should be if their pigment wasn’t washed away.” Ace answered, his face shifting with a smile as he twisted the journal just right. The resulting shadows helping to show where additional words had once resided on the page. “There, see. It looks like the passage would have continued if not for the water damage.” 

While he was skeptical at first, Marco had to admit that the idea was pretty genius. Especially when he leaned over enough to see what Ace could see. The indents filling out another paragraph or so before vanishing altogether. 

“Impressive, if only you focused on your reports with that level of intellect.” Marco grinned, “I never would have thought to check for that.”

“Pfft, you can joke all you want,” Ace smirked. “But having a clumsy younger brother does teach you a thing or two.” 

“Fair enough yoi. Now how are we supposed to read what isn’t there?” He asked, the raven giving a shrug before snapping his fingers as an idea came to mind. 

“Got a pencil?” Ace asked, his smile causing Marco to shake his head while nonetheless handing over the pencil he always kept neatly tucked away. 

“When I was younger, Luffy and I would always send secret messages this way. You could write what you wanted and then erase the ink knowing that the indents were left behind. So once you found the message, all you would need to do is fill in around the indents to reveal a secret location or whatever and your info was safe.” Ace explained, tilting the pencil at an angle before running it softly over the journal pages. 

“That’s adorable.” Marco grinned, watching as Ace’s face flushed with embarrassment. “Did you send secret little messages often yoi?” 

“We were kids! Lay off.” Ace huffed, the graphite of the pencil sticking to the page and revealing the once faded words. “Here! Read your stupid book. I’m going to see if Haruta needs any help.” He growled, taking his leave as Marco laughed. 

Marco wasn’t sure teasing Ace would ever lose its charm, but he had to acknowledge that the kid seemed to take it in stride most days. Yet, perhaps teasing Ace about his past wasn’t something he should make a habit of. The commander did seem a little touchy about such things. Although, it was difficult for Marco to reframe when such an obvious opportunity presented itself. Still, the blonde pushed the humor aside and focused back on the journal. 

While he had managed to get through most of the relevant passages, Marco had to admit he was still fuzzy on the details. Unlike Bay, he hadn’t had the time to sit down and truly analyze the text given his responsibilities to Thatch. So as his eyes drifted over the last of the final passage, he found himself somewhat lost. The text seemed frantic in a way, as the once fluid vocabulary was traded out for short descriptive words. The last sentences having been written in a way to ensure that if the journal was ever found, that whoever was reading it would get the warning in time. 

Squinting his eyes to try and make out the text, Marco finally puzzled together the last of the entry. The man and his crew had finished their restock and were venturing into a span of wild space. Words such as ‘wind, storms, and hopeless’ having been etched deeper into the page than others. Yet, the word that stuck out to him the most, was the word ‘Spires’. It was one of the last three words and was written in obvious panic. The lines of the word being ragged and wavering widely across the bottom of the page. But what did it mean? Why would spires be so important? 

Never getting the time to truly let the script sink in, Marco’s attention was drawn from the page as shouting filtered in from the deck. The violent cries acting like a warning bell before the sound of the explosions ripped through the air. Marco’s body surging with adrenaline as he pushed his way out of the galley and onto the upper deck. Around him, other commanders and deckhands rushed to and fro while cannon fire littered the sea on both sides. The horizon off the starboard bow revealing the all too familiar shape of a navy convoy.  

“What are the Marines doing this far into the storm belt?!” Rakuyo shouted, his voice drowned out by the spray of a wave crashing over the sides of the deck. 

“They must have followed us in from the outside!” Jiru answered.

“It’s unlikely anyone would willingly patrol this stretch of the ocean!” Juzo added, his arm shifting from flesh to diamond as he deflected one of the incoming cannonballs. 

“They’ve got grit. I'll give them that!” Vista laughed, his blades cutting through the cannon fire like a hot knife through butter. 

“Bring it on! I can handle them.” Ace boasted, the second division commander setting his arm aflame with eager intentions. However, as the rain continued to pelt down, even the glow of Ace’s fire seemed to shrink and steam with the effort of staying lit. The almost hurricane-like weather making it near impossible for anyone, pyro or otherwise, to keep a steady aim. 

“Save your blaze hothead” Izo huffed, his long hair plastered to his usually porcelain perfect face. “If you go overboard we’ll never be able to fish you out!”

“I dare say! It seems we’ve caught you at quite the disadvantage! Tell me, what brings the great Whitebeard so far from his borders?” A voice thundered over the sound of the waves. The deep tone easily amplified through the use of a den-den mushi as the owner stepped onto the bowsprit. All eyes landing on the white and blue uniform of none other than Vice-Admiral Doberman. The man's distinctive scars and signature blade being a dead giveaway to his identity. 

“Gurarara, We could inquire the same! What brings a brat like you into a storm like this?” Whitebeard answered, the captain stepping out of his quarters to stand beside Curiel and Fossa at the helm. 

“I heard a rumor you had ventured into the area and figured I would stop in to see if it was true.” Doberman grinned, his eyes as chilly as the pelting rain that drenched the ships around him. “Makes killing you that much easier now that you don’t have the grace of hiding in your sheltered waters!”

“Is that so?” Whitebeard smirked, shifting his naginata out and over his crew below. “I think you’ll find my sons rarely make anything easy. I’m sure they’re well up to the challenge.” 

“We’ll see,” Doberman growled, his head turning to start barking orders at the closest marines, the short exchange coming to an end.

Turning to his sons, Whitebeard let a smile fall upon his face.

“Let’s show these runts a good fight, Gurarara.” He called, the surrounding men sharing their father’s smile despite the exasperation shown by a few of the commanders. 

“Pops we can’t risk an all-out confrontation!” Fossa grunted, Izo coming to stand next to his captain as the first of the cannons started to fire. 

“We can’t repair any damage taken in this weather and with Thatch’s condition-” Izo started, only to see Whitebeard raise his hand. 

“Patience my son. Let's see what kind of monsters those cannonballs stir up.” Whitebeard answered, his eyes following the sway of the ship. 

“Are you just hoping one will show up?!” Izo questioned, his body shifting to the side as the boat lurched from a direct hit. 

“You could help it along.” Whitebeard laughed, the sixteenth commander dumbstruck before letting out a string of curses. 

Making his way back through the scurrying men, Izo was quick to grab Marco and Namur. The two being busy handling the outpouring of gunshots and cannon blasts when he explained their captain’s thinking. 

“He wants to use sea kings as a distraction yoi?” Marco asked, his half-shifted wings easily taking the bullets as they fell across his body. 

“Yes! Namur do you think you can handle that?” Izo inquired, the Fishman giving him a single puff before heading for the side of the deck. His streamlike body quickly vanishing over the edge and into the swells below. 

“But aren’t the Marine ships coated with a layer of sea prism on the bottom? Won't the sea king just ignore them in favor of attacking us?” Haruta asked, the commander having overheard the conversation after avoiding one of Ace’s over eager fire fists.

“If we’re lucky, it should attack anything that moves!” Izo shouted, his voice rising as another wave crashed against the ship and sent the crew sliding across its planks. 

Lifting his head, Marco watched the sails and the riggings shake in the violent winds. The damage of an attack coupled with the stress of the storm was a recipe for disaster. If Pop’s plan didn’t work, it was going to be hard to figure a way out of this mess given that they faced a raging sea on one side and a navy convoy on the other. It wasn’t impossible, but it sure as hell wasn’t going to be easy. 

Around them, the water continued to heave and twirl. The intermittent lightning dancing with the muzzle flash of the cannons while the thunder fought to be heard over the resounding explosions. People lay bloody and shot on the decks of both crews as they continued their onslaught. And into this mess came Namur, the eighth division commander bursting from the waves with the mother of all sea kings on his tail. His iconic blue shirt ripped at the side from where the creature's fangs had pierced his defenses. 

Using his webbed hands to slow his skidding momentum, Namur came to a stop just short of Ace. The raven ceasing in his assault just long enough to notice the blood dripping from his comrade’s side and the beast responsible. The massive fish-like serpent sporting a matching mark from where the commander had hit his mark. 

“Need a hand?” Ace inquired, helping his friend to his feet while Namur assessed his wound. 

“Humph,” He grunted, the blood easily washing away in the rain while the serpent let out an ear-shattering wail. The sea king obviously unpleased with the commander's audacity to wound it. 

“What happened? I thought fishmen were a force to be reckoned with in the water.” Ace teased, his eyes shifting from the monster to Namur. “You good?”

“Stings” He huffed, all eyes turning to the sea king as it loomed between the navy and their ship. 

The creature was more than double the size of the Moby Dick and sported a set of wickedly sharp needlelike teeth. From their place on the deck below, Marco and Izo frowned up at the thing. Normally a sea king would be no big deal, not even for a Vice-Admiral like Doberman. Yet as the two groups started to open fire on the monster, the sea below them began to bubble with activity. The waves giving way as another two gargantuan monsters rose from the surface and physically separated the ships with their sheer mass. Namur giving a rare accomplished smirk as Ace’s mouth fell open at the sight.

Gripping the railing, Marco braced himself as the ship was forcefully shoved several meters backward. The water licking at the opposite edge while the ship all but skidding sideways across the surface of the waves. Everyone grabbing for the nearest afixed objects until the vessel came to a stop and righted itself. The beasts creating a massive physical barrier between them and the navy. 

Opening his eyes, Marco and the others barely had time to collect themselves before the first of the sea kings took a shot at the ship. Its gaping mouth opening wide to show its teeth in a display of furry. Beside it, the two others turned their attention to the convoy of navy ships still firing their cannons. The explosions seemingly causing no harm to the thick scales of the beast while they began to attack the outlying vessels. 

Once more feeling the ship bow under the force of being hit, Marco was quick to take flight. His flames a beacon against the darkness of the clouds as he delivered a sharp kick to the face of the sea king. The serpent coiling back with a furious hiss before snapping its jaws shut inches from his frame. Its teeth grazing close enough for him to feel the beast’s breath. Below him, Whitebeard and the others took the opportunity to correct the ship's sails. Vista and Ace swiftly taking action before the monster found another opening. 

Feeling the heat of Ace’s flames, Marco’s eyes shifted back to the Moby Dick as the pyro and Vista launched a coordinated attack. The fifth division commander’s blades cutting a wound deep enough to penetrate the serpent's scales while Ace’s fire all but barbecued the injury. Their combined strength, despite the violent storm, giving the perfect opening for Whitebeard to delivere the final blow. The force of their captain’s punch knocking the sea king backwards into the waves. Its elongated body vanishing beneath the water before surfacing near the other two. 

Watching from the skies, Marco observed as the sea king lay still for a moment and then gave a violent shake. Even after taking an indirect hit from the Gura Gura no mi it seemed that the beast still had some fight left in it. Yet, as it rose from the water it seemed to regard the crew with a bitter understanding. The creature either perceiving its own limits or simply unwilling to waste another moment of its time, turned its attention to aiding the others of its kind. Whatever the case may be, with all three now focusing their attention on the marines, Marco and the others were given a golden opportunity to continue their journey. 

Landing on the deck, Marco took in the damages to the ship and crew. Around him, the nurses seemed to have their hands full attending to the injured while the commanders attempted to get the rigging under control. Even Ace was hustling to get caught up and away from the chaos they had caused.  

Overhead still standing at the helm, Whitebeard gave a hearty laugh as he proudly smiled at his sons. The joy in his tone bringing a round of exasperated sighs from the deckhands and commanders while they mustered their strength to continue their battle with the raging storm. Of all the stupid plans... 

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

Chapter Warnings: Language and bad weather

Watching the lightning dance across the horizon, you felt the smallest of smiles pull at your lips. A cup of your favorite drink clutched warmly in your hands while you continued to observe the swaying trees. The majesty of the weather captivating you with its danger and beauty. 

Just as Abe had predicted, the storm had made landfall a little over thirty-six hours ago. Bring with it powerful winds and heavy sheets of rain. The fat droplets seeming to fall sideways in the unrelenting gusts until they became conjoined with the earth. All while the sky was alight with activity. Bolts of electricity and crackling thunder demanding the attention of every creature within their wake. 

Glancing from the skies to your herb beds, you were glad that Abe’s advice on covering them had come in handy. You couldn’t imagine the damage the storm may have caused had you procrastinated any longer. Still, even with your herbs protected, you had to admit that the weather was doing a damn good job of putting a halt to your workflow. 

Without the ability to go out and search for ingredients, a few of your tonics were now on hold until the storm broke. The half-filled mixing bowls and vials strung about in an almost half-hazardous way across any clear surface. All missing at least one or two key additives until they could be packaged and brought to the village. Luckily enough, none of them were overly pressing, and you were free to wait out the worst of the storm. Not that you would have chanced going out in this weather, even if they had been. Between the rain and the lightning, it was a wonder that any of the trees still had leaves left on them. Still, you pitied any poor soul caught out in the violent winds and turbulent rain. They were in for a difficult fight.

Feeling yet another wave of nausea hit, Ace tried his best to ignore the way his stomach and the ship seemed to rock against one another. The constant rolling of the waves finally getting to even the more seasoned of their crew as Marco made his way above deck. Said blonde fairing better than the majority of his brothers as they entered into the evening of their fifth day. At the helm, Haruta reluctantly traded out with Vista. The swordsman, much like Ace, was currently trying to keep down what little food the cooks had managed to make through the endless chaos. 

After finding their way clear of the navy, it had become obvious that the ship had sustained a fair amount of damage to its starboard side. A few of the holes hitting below the surface of the hull and requiring immediate action. And while they had been quick to patch what they could, they still had to spend hours hauling the water out from below deck by hand. The sheer number of buckets making everyone sore on top of being seasick. 

Making his way to the railing, Marco paused at the sight of the second division commander and frowned. His hand extending a glass of water to the poor guy in hopes of settling his stomach. However, at the sight, the raven-haired man only let out a groan. 

“Not yet…” Ace complained, Marco raising an unimpressed brow at the whine that reached his ears over the wind. 

“You need to stay hydrated yoi,” Marco warned, shoving the glass into his fellow commander’s hands before also leaning on the railing. His cerulean blue eyes scanning the horizon for any sign that the storm was near its end. Thanks to Pop’s knowledge of the territory, they knew better than to expect anything within the first few days of sailing. But even he had to wonder if this weather was eternal. And if it was, did that mean they had been blown off course? 

“Blah...this tastes funny.” Ace grimaced, his onyx eyes shifting over to his brother as Marco smirked. 

“It has peppermint in it...should help your stomach,” Marco explained while Ace puffed out his bottom lip. 

“I liked the chamomile better.” 

“Yeah, well, so did everyone else yoi. This is all we’ve got left beside the ginger, and that’s going to Thatch.” Marco stated, his eyes shifting back to the freckled man as he frowned down at the cup. 

“How is he?” Ace asked, his tone almost fragile against the splashing sound of the waves. 

“He’s been better. The commotion with the navy triggered another bout of fever, and his breathing is starting to become labored. I’m not sure how much longer he can hold out yoi.” Marco frowned, his words honest and foreboding. They needed to find the island, and they needed to find it soon. Given the events of the last five days, they were starting to running low on nausea medication and honey for Thatch’s cough.  

“Do you think we’ll find the island in time?” Ace questioned. “I’m not sure how much more of this weather the crew can take.”

“It’s here yoi. We just have to hold out a little longer.” Marco said firmly, his eyes turning back to the sea as the lightning illuminated the horizon. The resounding boom of the thunder vibrating the railing under his arms before a call came from the crows' nest. 

“Captain!” 

It was Blenheim, his voice cutting through the wind like a blade. 

“Speak!” Whitebeard answered, shifting from his seat behind the helm.

“Island ahead!”

Seeing the grin that spread across his father’s face, Marco and Ace rushed in the direction to which Blenheim directed. The two making it port side in time for another impressive bolt of electricity to brighten the far skyline. Said light outlining a distant speck of land, an island hidden amongst the darkened sky. At last, it was there, and it was real. 

“Good job my son! Haruta keep us on course, Juzo ready the men, we make for land!” Whitebeard hollered, a round of cheers quickly following their captain’s call as everyone started to move with renewed vigor. 

Allowing his eyes to linger a moment longer, Marco felt a flicker of hope dance to life in his chest. After weeks of searching, planning, and praying they were about to make it. The months of pouring over books and chasing ghosts were now only hours away from being justified. And if their efforts paid off, it would mean they had a real chance at saving Thatch. The image of his brother’s smile and his over-the-top laugh bring Marco to momentarily shift his gaze back to his captain. Whitebeard’s piercing gaze fixing the blonde in place as he motioned for Marco to join him. 

Using his wings to carry him, Marco easily landed next to his captain. The two regarding each other for a moment before Newgate spoke. Each word hanging heavily in the air between them. 

“This island,” He began. “It’s not unknown to me. We need to be careful not to overstay our welcome. The navy will be close behind us and the inhabitants of this land have very little in the way of defense against outsiders.”

“You knew?” Marco inquired his gaze wide at his father’s confession. 

“To be sure? I came across it once in my life, when I still sailed with Rocks D. Xebec. Back then, it was nothing more than a handful of stubborn survivors that chose to remain hidden from the world.” Whitebeard explained, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. “The island is a refuge for a few lucky survivors looking to start over in life. People the Marines would be more than happy to bring in. Let’s not give them the chance.” 

Nodding his understanding, Marco once again turned his attention to the darkening horizon. This was it, this was the moment of truth. The moment that could make or break everything. However, as the hours and the distance started to slip by, it became obvious that the sea wasn’t down with the crew just yet. A thick fog starting to set in the closer to the island they got. The heat of the warmer water contrasting with the bitter rain until blankets of heavy mist obstructed their view. The occasional flashes of lightning the only means helping to keep them on track while the Moby Dick drifted through the ever constant waves. 

Back on land, it was blatantly obvious that the storm had no intentions of breaking as the evening hours drifted by. Your candles flickering to give you light while you finished washing the last of your dishes before settling in for the night. Outside, many of the villagers were busy doing the same. Yet, as the weather spit its version of fireworks across the sky, a pair of age-worn eyes continued to glare at the dark horizon. The dull orbs staring intently at the ring of fog rolling in with the wind. Their owner unwilling to relent in her vigil until she was absolutely sure. 

“Mother, would you please come in from the porch,” Abe called from his living room, still busily sifting through the many newspapers the last voyage had brought in from the mainland. 

“There’s a ship.” Mrs. Huxley responded, her words grabbing Abe’s attention as he paused in his work to join her. 

“A ship? In this storm?” Abe asked, his eyes scanning the fog-covered skyline in search of the vessel his mother spoke of. “Where do you see a ship? I can’t make out anything through the fog.” 

“It’s there.” Mrs. Huxley huffed, her eyes still fixed in one spot as she lifted a leathery hand to point into the thickening banks of mist. “Wait for the flash...you’ll see,” she promised. Her son frowning but humoring his mother nevertheless. And as she had said, when the next bolt of lightning raced across the sky, the light illuminated a distant ship in the gloom. The massive vessel sailing in their direction and making great time with the wind at its back. 

“I’ll be damned,” Abe scuffed. “Wonder what would bring a ship out this far?” 

“You can ask when they come ashore. That is if they don’t capsize their ship on the reef.” Mrs. Huxley frowned. “Those rocks are difficult to navigate with a small vessel and clear skies. This fog will make the task near impossible.” 

Exchanging a look, the two shared a string of unspoken conversation. Abe moving to grab his jacket while Mrs. Huxley readied her lantern. Both quickly setting out in search of any able-bodied neighbor they could find to help bring the ship safely in. It was going to be a close call, and even then, there would be no guarantees. 

Squinting through the fog, Ace did his best to make out the shoreline of the island. It was still a ways off, but with the wind on their side, they could make landfall by tonight. At which point they could finally get off this swaying tub and onto solid ground! God, how he missed being able to stand still for more than two seconds. Even his dreams had been plagued by a swirling vortex of violent rocking. 

Moving to his friend’s side, Haruta also scrunched up his face as he tried to make out the approaching island. The commander having switched out at the helm with Kingdew a handful of moments ago. And with his renewed energy, he was now looking forward to being able to set anchor. 

“You look better. Did Marco finally get to you?” he commented, Ace shifting his head with a smile. 

“Peppermint. Does wonders for the stomach.” The raven smirked back, the two relaxing at the whale-shaped bowsprit.

Around them, the crew was busy securing any of the sails that had come loose in the relentless gales. Marco and Pops discussing matters with Izo on what would happen once they managed to make it to shore. And just as the rain started to tapper, the final obstacle reared its ugly head. 

Bracing his feet as the ship lurched to one side, Marco was quick to fix Kingdew with a glare. His fellow commander gripping the wheel for dear life as the deckhands, now scattered along the railings where they had caught themselves, shared a questioning look. What was that?

“Kingdew!” Marco called, his brother shrugging his shoulder. 

At the front of the ship, Haruta helped to right himself and Ace. The young commanders barely having time to adjust their stance before Haruta caught sight of the cause of their troubles. The huge spikes currently blocking their path being the reason for the ship's sudden shift in position. They were sailing over a series of exposed reefs!

“Secure the sails!” the brunette shouted, his eyes frantic as he pointed over the side of the ship. “Stone pillars ahead captain!” 

“Kingdew hard to starboard!” Whitebeard growled, his son turning the wheel while the wind pushed them inches from the lip of another reef shelf. Below on deck, Ace and Haruta rushed to the riggings. Many of the crew racing to get the sails fully closed before the wind drove them into another portion of the sharp coral. 

“Pops, we’ll never be able to clear them all in this fog!” Izo shouted, the sharpshooter hardening his gaze as they hit another of the dangerous columns. “We need to turn around and find a different way in!”

“No! Keep the wheel steady yoi,” Marco growled, the warning at the end of the journal finally connecting in his head. Just like the sailor and his crew, the Whitebeard pirates now faced a gauntlet of deadly sea spires. The jagged stones more than capable of piercing the hull and sinking their ship. To which Marco could now infer, was the ill-fitted fate of those who had sailed before them. “I’ll guide us through, just find a way to handle those sea spires!” 

“Are you insane!? You can’t fly in those winds!” Izo argued, the commander displaying a level of worry that might have rivaled Thatch’s if he had been present. 

“I’ll get us through.” Marco promised, “Let me worry about the updrafts, you worry about the rest yoi.” 

Taking flight before Izo could counter, Marco forced the wind under his wings and ascended into the turbulent skies. The powerful gales making it difficult to hover for more than a few seconds at a time. Each set of squalls seeming to pull the phoenix in every direction as he attempted to steady himself in front of the ship. 

“Of all the stubborn…” Izo cursed, his eyes scanning the deck until he could pinpoint Ace. “Oi hot stuff!” he snapped, the raven turning his attention from the riggings. “Give Marco a light! Juzo secure the mainsail, Vista help Marco knock down those pillars! Let's clear the path boys” he ordered, his delicate kimono fluttering as he jumped the space from the helm to the deck. All parties moving to give their brother a hand while the loose sails were tied down. 

Taking a position at the bowsprit, Ace was quick to send out a blast of fire. The light helping to brighten the space in front of the ship while Marco’s talons sliced through the illuminated pillars. The spires that happed to slip past, quickly falling prey to either Vista or Izo as they set about shooting and cutting through the stones. Yet, ahead the fog continued to thicken and disrupt the view of the island. Kingdew doing his best to keep the ship within the newly cleared pathway despite not being able to see it. 

“Can you see the island?” Kingdew called, his voice reaching through the raging winds and up to the main mast where, with help from Juzo, Haruta finished securing the unneeded sails. 

“Negative!” Haruta answered back. “Just more fog!” 

“Keep going sons! She’s there, through the mist!” Whitebeard called, the captain remaining firm beside the helm. 

Feeling the ship lurch, Izo was quick to ground Ace before the fool fell overboard. In front of him, Marco’s flames steamed under the pelting of the rain and winds. The phoneix doing his best to minimize the damages to the ship as it sailed through the gantlet. Yet as the crew scrambled to keep their vessel afloat, a distant light began to pierce through the clouds. 

“Captain! I see a light! It's coming from the direction of the island!” Haruta grinned, his arm extended to the right. 

“To Starboard!” Whitebeard laughed, the other commanders adjusting their path in favor of heading for the distant light. Said light growing as it became clear that a large group of lanterns had been lite long the shrouded shoreline. The collection of fire acting as a beacon for the crew to follow. And follow it they did. The last leg of their journey coming to an end as the Moby Dick beached itself on the sand. The holes in its haul and deep scratches along its sides speaking of the toll the venture had taken. After a total of almost six days, three sea kings, and a close call with the navy, they had finally arrived. 

Feeling the ship come to a stop, the crew let out a collective sigh. Their bodies sore, spirits lows, and exhaustion at an all-time high. Among them, Ace finally released his death grip next to the bowsprit and slumped against the railing. Next to him, Marco also appeared to collapse in on himself as he landed. Both men taking a moment to let the adrenaline ease from their veins. Between fighting against the wind and his lack of sleep, Marco felt his reserves running close to dry. The overall stress of making it to land in one piece was a little more than his aging bones could take. Yet while everyone breathed a sigh of relief, the sound of Ace’s voice cut through the momentary silence. 

“I really hate... this ocean.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

Chapter Warnings: Language 

(Y/n)= Your Name

(Y/a) = Your Age

(H/l)= Hair Length 

(H/c) = Hair Color 

(E/c)= Eye Color 

Sore, stiff, and exhausted; Marco felt all of this, and more, as the rain continued to drip from the darkening skies. The long days of sailing across choppy water making the blonde more than thankful for the absence of swaying while he found his feet. The effort making his joint protest in a way similar to his captains when the geezer first awoke in the mornings. Nevertheless, the phoenix pushed himself to stand as Whitebeard made his way over the deck and to the railing. The Yonko’s eyes piercing through the fog while others also began to steady themselves. 

Exiting the galley, Deuce raised an unimpressed brow at the mess of bodies strung about. His gaze twisting in several directions before landing on the first division commander with icy intent. Between the wind and the waves, it had been hard enough to keep Thatch’s bed from being tossed around like a rag doll. But this? Oh, this was outrageous. For all intents and purposes, he was putting his foot down, enough was enough. 

However, the doctor’s warpath was swiftly interrupted by Whitebeard, who raised his hand to signal a warning. All eyes twisting to the edge of the ship as multiple lights started to appear through the fog. The beams drawing the crew’s attention as the little flames manifested into a group of strangers holding lanterns. The newcomers displaying a level of distress upon seeing the state of not only their ship, but the somewhat disheveled crew. Clearly the storm had won a few rounds in their battle to arrive here.

Regarding one another for a moment, it was the eldest of the group that finally step forward to address the crew. Her voice horse with age, but firm with wisdom as she wasted no time in getting to business. No doubt wielding more power than her frail appearance gave off. 

“You seem to have had quite the venture. Tell us, what brings you to our island, pirates?” She inquired, a man sharing her features moving to stand beside her. 

“We come in peace,” Whitebeard assured the woman, his expression as stubborn and ungiving as hers. “We have come seeking aid for one of our own, we mean you no trouble.” 

“Hmm, that remains to be seen doesn’t it?” The woman responded, her eyes shifting from pops to a few of the others standing along side the railing. 

Feeling the woman’s gaze fall on him, Marco felt like he had become transparent. Her eyes cutting through him as if he was nothing but air. A temporary feature who's only purpose was to exist within this singular moment of her judgment. Everything lingering on if she dared to deem him and the others worthy of her approval. 

“You seem like a wild bunch, unkept and eager.” She said calmly, the man beside her shuffling uncomfortably while the crew held their breaths. “However, I sense no ill intent here.” 

Sharing a smile with the woman, Whitebeard gave a hearty chuckle at her insight into his son's behaviors. With a single passing glance, she had been able to pick through each of them and judge the character underneath. An impressive feat, even for one as well-traveled as himself.

“Your ship appears to have been damaged in the storm. While we may not have space for all, you are welcome to the beds we can spare.” She invited, Whitebeard giving a slight bow. 

“Many thanks. Any help is greatly appreciated.” He smiled, turning his attention back to his sons. “Marco, Deuce, round up the nurses and get the ill and injured ready to move. Juzo, help Kingdew find volunteers to set up a temporary shelter. And Izo, see to coordinating the beds. Make sure to start with those most in need before working your way out.” He ordered, the commanders beginning to scurry around the deck and lower levels. All hands jumping to work to achieve their new tasks as quickly as possible. A group of villagers also moving to offer their help with Newgate’s commands. 

“Abe, have a few of the men aid in transporting their sick and injured. Also, round up some volunteers to pass out extra blankets and warm drinks, let’s help get them dry.” Mrs. Huxley instructed, her words carrying a weight to them that was not to be ignored. While most of the villagers seemed eager to help, there where some that held obvious reservations. Her tone nipping any of their possible negative reactions in the bud. 

“Yes, mother.” Abe nodded, turning to the group of villagers to pass on her orders. Many of the group already jumping into action as Whitebeard exited his ship and approached their elder. Their timid energy showing in nervous smiles and prolonged glances. 

“You’ve come a long way,” Mrs. Huxley mused, her eyes locking with the imposing captain. “Not an easy task to say the least. But come, our village isn’t far.” She invited, her silver hair sticking to her face with the weight of the rain as Whitebeard smiled.

Between the two of them, they shared well over 100 years of life. Both acknowledging the wisdom in the other’s gaze before turning to head down the beach. Their mutual respect radiating confidence long into the hours of the night while everyone began to settle in.

With many of the crew remaining at the ship, Marco was a little surprised with the number of accommodations the villagers had to offer. After finding space for numerous members of the injured in the outlying buildings, the village elder had invited him and Whitebeard to stay in her own personal home. Explaining she could always stay with her son until further notice, and that it had the largest living space of all the houses on the island. Which Marco and the others could use to keep a closer eye on their more dier patients. And scanning the room around him, Marco had to admit it was very spacious given some of the other cots he helped to set up earlier that night. Even if pops took up most of the free space in the master bedroom.

Looking around, Marco admired the home for what it was. The rich hardwood floors and weathered ceiling having withstood the test of time with grace to spare. A history of untold stories written in every scar upon the paneling. Yet, it was the spareness of the house that truly captured his attention. 

While there was hardly a frame upon the walls, the positioning of the windows gave a clear view to the village around them. As if this had been the first building constructed on the island. The village circling the home like the rings that encompassed a water droplet. 

What few items did exist within the home, were mostly for purpose. The table, sofa, and other furnishing having been strategically placed to allow the room to breathe. With nothing unnecessary or disruptive present to hinder the functionality of the space.

So why then, in a place as streamline as this, was the hearth of the fireplace adorned with an abundance of items? The tiny knick knacks seeming almost obtrusive amongst the over all flow of the room. The beautiful dried flowers, scrap of floral dress, brass wedding bands, and the cast of tiny hands seeming out of place within the vastness of the house. And yet, it was as if they belonged in some strange way. Their value measured in a sentiment that filled the burning embers below them with warmth.

Picking up the cast of the handprints, Marco found himself tracing his fingers over the indents. The tiny folds a reminder of how temporary life truly was as his mind wandered to days long forgotten by the world around him. To think even he had been small enough to fit the mold once. 

“Some time ago, those used to be my son’s.” Called a voice from the adjacent entrance. Whitebeard and the elder joining the blonde after finishing their rounds in the village. The two having left him to help settle Thatch while they saw to the rest of his family.

“It's humbling to know that no matter how far we travel in life, we all start fairly close to the same; small, fragile, and innocent.” Mrs. Huxley grinned, her eyes easily reading the situation as Marco ducked his head sheepishly. Oops.  

“I’m sorry yoi. I don’t mean to be nosy.” He smiled, turning back to place the cast where he had found it. “I was admiring your collection. Strange to think we all start so helpless.”

“Hmm, yes, strange indeed. And yet, it is perhaps when we are at our best in life. Still pure and untainted of the world's corruption.” She mused, her eyes lingering on the handprints a moment longer. “Ah, but this nostalgia is a trap for another day. Come you must be tired, rest.”

“No thank you, I’m good yoi.” Marco tried, his smile easily cut down by a single look from the elder. Her eyes narrowing before she shook her head. The sight of her disapproval cutting Marco deeper than it should for a woman he had only just met.

“As honorable as your intentions are, your stubbornness helps none. Rest!” She pressed, her stiff legs carrying to one of the few chairs within the living room. “I will watch over your companion tonight, while you see to remedying the bags under your eyes.”

“As much as I would like to accept your offer, I need to speak with your healer first yoi.” Marco frowned. “It's of the utmost importance that Thatch sees-” he started, only to be cut short by the elder. Her hand rising to stop the blonde before he could argue further. 

“Our healer does not live in the village and trying to find the way in this storm is foolhardy, even for one as strong as you. I can ensure your friend’s health for tonight. However, you will be of no use to anyone if you collapse before completing your mission.” The elder reasoned, Whitebeard nodding in agreement. 

“Rest my son, Thatch can wait a few hours.” Newgate puffed, his words putting an end to the argument while Marco deflated. The blonde’s eyes drifting to the floor and his body slumping into the closest chair as he let the matter drop. His hand rubbing over his tired face before a thought occurred to him.

“This healer of yours, where do they live if not within the village?” Marco inquired, the elder smiling back at him. 

“She lives up the mountain, about an hours walk from where the forest begins.” Mrs.Huxley smirked. 

“She?” Marco questioned, his head tilting a little. The journal had never mentioned a name or gender.  And as such, Marco could only hope that the healer and the creature were the same beings. 

“Yes, she. And if I were you, young man. I would be sure to cover that tattoo of yours before you seek her out. She can be somewhat unpredictable when it comes to pirates.” She warned, her hand tightening its hold on the arm of her chair. 

“I assure you I mean no harm to her yoi.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Huxley frowned, her eyes narrowing. “If she catches sight of that mark, she may refuse you help. If your friend’s life is as important as your captain claims, buttoning your shirt should be of little consequence.” she stated firmly, her words twisting in Marco's chest. While Thatch was beyond precious to the blonde, he had to admit that the thought of coving his father's crest left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

Turning his gaze to his captain, Marco waited for Whitebeard to give his approval. The Yonko giving a single nod while the phoenix sighed. His father’s mark was one of Marco’s most prized possessions and he carried it with pride. However, if this was what got Thatch the help he needed, then so be it. 

“Fine.” Marco smiled, his obvious distaste at the idea showing on his face. 

“I can see the idea displeases you, but understand that I say this out of experience to try and ensure you the best of chances. (Y/n) can be a bit of a wild card when it comes to outsiders, and you seem like a decent bunch. I would hate for all your strife to be for nothing.” She said warmly, her gaze softening in an almost mothering way. 

“I just pray she can help us yoi.” Marco sighed, the exhaustion starting to catch up with him. “I’m not sure where else we can turn if-”

“Have faith.” Mrs. Huxley hummed. “The storm is beginning to ebb and come morning, the light should help to guide you. (Y/n) maybe a spitfire at times, but she is one of the most capable healers I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. Should she agree to help, your friend could not be in more capable hands.” she reassured. 

Nodding his head, Marco felt some of the weight lift from his chest. Perhaps they were right, some sleep would do him good. And with the storm giving its final go at the world, it wasn’t as if he could just run off in the dark. He would have a better chance of reaching the healer in the morning once the weather had calmed.  

With that in mind, sleep came easier to Marco and the others. Many of the crew resting deeply through the night and well past sunrise. The warmth of the sun bathing the world with new hope. 

Awaking at dawn, Marco felt like his limbs were as thick as molasses. The few hours of rest he had managed to obtain, just further reminding him of the sleep deprivation he had suffered through the last month or so. What he wouldn’t give for a week to catch up on all the hours he had missed. Yet, with the sun’s light, he was once again reminded of his mission. His eyes drifting to one of the back bedrooms when the sound of a muffled coughing resonated behind the closed door. Today he was getting Thatch the help he needed. 

Making his way into the kitchen of the elder’s home, Marco was surprised to see both Mrs.Huxley and Pops sitting at the table. The two having been awake for most of the night to ensure everyone was properly settled and attended to. Their conversations kept soft so as not to wake any of the other occupants within the home. However, as Marco entered the room, they both shared a tired smile and invited him to join them. 

Bringing him up to speed, Mrs.Huxley gave Marco a written list of instructions to follow. The paper detailing the path to reach (Y/n) and the landmarks to look for along the way. With any luck, the healer would be awake before he arrived, if not wandering around close by searching for herbs. 

Accepting the instructions, Marco thanked the elder for her help before quickly downing the food and drink offered to him in kind. Newgate having already spoken to a few of the commanders, while Marco slept, to ensure everyone kept their Jolly Rogers under wraps until after the healer had seen to Thatch. If everything went correctly, Thatch could be as good as new in a couple of days! At which point the fear of discovery would be less of a consequence, and they could move about more freely. Which now that Marco thought about it, was more than a little deceitful. Yet, if this was the only way to insure Thatch got the help he needed, Marco would just have to suck it up. It wasn't like this was the first time they had pulled a cheap shot to get what they wanted. They were pirates after all.

Keeping this in mind, Marco was quick to take to the skies. The blue of his wings blazing brightly against the azure sheet above him. While below, the crew waved him good luck on his search. The majority of his brothers helping to start repairs for the ship now that the sun had risen.

With some help from the locals, they hoped to have the ship sea worthy in a week or two. The short time frame still slightly worrisome, given the storm belts violent nature. Well that, and the fact that even if the ship was fully repaired, it more than likely meant everyone was in for another round of seasickness. Which unsurprisingly, no one was looking forward to. Not that Marco overly minded, it would be nice to put this whole ordeal behind them as quickly as they could. 

Using his abilities to cover the distance from the village to the forest, Marco easily cut his time in half. The commander landing just shy of the tree line before continuing further in on foot. All around him, the trees seemed to buzz with activity as every creature worked double-time to make up for the hours lost in the storm. The birds and squirrels in particular racing to and fro after any insect or nut they could find.

Taking a moment to smile at the wildlife, Marco pressed deeper into the trees. Their branches offering him shade as the sun slowly crept higher into the skies. And while it wasn’t overly late in the morning, it was still later than Marco would have hoped. He had been keen to make it before the sun fully rose past the horizon, but seeing as he had slightly overslept, he would have to settle for making it back to the beach by noon. That was, if he could find the healer without too much trouble. 

Looking at the set of instructions, Marco easily found his way to the first two landmarks. The prominent rock statue and gentle flowing stream letting him know he was on the right track. Yet the issues arose when it came to seeking out the third landmark. The supposed garden beds blending seamlessly into the nature around them. So much so, that Marco had passed it twice before even noticing the damn things! Their otherwise prominent flowers, having been freshly clipped and thus camouflaging the neatly spaced rows into the surrounding grass. However, after closer inception of the rosemary and yarrow, Marco finally caught sight of what he was looking for. 

Glancing at the building, it was easy to see how someone might bypass it without notice. The house appeared to be an earthen-style home, built into the existing hillside. The design cleverly using the natural height of the hill to help mask its presence. While key features such as the door, windows, and roof seemed to melt into the ground around them. 

From the outside, one could count a total of five windows; although there was a sixth hidden further up the hillside. The three larger windows, much like the doorway, were round and set with sturdy wood. While in contrast the two smaller windows, that allowed for extra light into different segments of the house, were constructed with a lighter vine material. The dusty stonework deviously deceptive of the finer craftsmanship concealed within. 

Moving to peek inside one of the larger windows, Marco could easily see three of the large connecting rooms within the house. The first room, just inside the entryway, was small. It housed what appeared to be endless shelves of books and dried bottled plants. With a small step down from the front door and a cozy-looking rug for one’s shoes. 

The second room, being considerably larger than the first, contained not only a wood-burning fireplace but a sizable dining room table stacked with piles of loose papers. Adjacent to the fireplace, against the wall leading into the third room, sat a plush armchair and nightstand. Above it, rows of shelves that had been dug into the wall to support a wide range of random items and candles for late-night reading.

Lastly, there was the third room. Just as big as the second, the third room appeared to be the kitchen. Complete with a stove and deep farmhouse sink, the kitchen was nothing short of breathtaking. One portion of the wall having been dug out to make shelving for numerous jars of spices, dried goods, and dishes. And opposite that, was an area for the pantry. The main feature being a countertop that started just below the window and spanned the entirety of half the room. Yet, if one looked at just the right angle, they could make out the fourth and final room within the hobbit hole. The fourth room being the bedroom. A more medium-sized space that appeared to have no windows, save for a hidden skylight.

Illuminated by the natural glow of the sun, the room was rich in both character and comfort. It sported a large bed with a down comforter and a beautifully hand-sewn quilt. As well as a dresser and mirror along the far wall. The singular chair within the space, adorned with stacks of well loved books and dried flowers. 

The home itself sporting wooden floors that matched the color of the rounded door and expert stonework appliances. Its walls a mix of bowed wooden beams and white clay plaster. And while it wasn’t the most colorful of homes, it was incredibly inviting with a cozy aura about it. Add to that, the large garden beds of fresh herbs, flowers, and vegetables, and the building appeared as if it had jumped off the pages of a storybook! It was stunning, to say the least. However, Marco didn’t have time to continue to admire the unique building in all its glory. He had more important matters to attend to with the owner of the building, wherever she may be at the moment. 

Though he hadn’t seen anyone inside, Marco took a chance on knocking to ensure the building was indeed empty. His efforts going unrewarded as the hollow sound seemed to echo unanswered through the caverns of the home. Sighing, he was about to take his leave when the door handle gave a jolt, and a young woman answered. Her (e/c) eyes glued to a book as she addressed him, or at least tried to. 

“I’m so sorry Mrs. Huxley! I know I said I would have that tonic ready for your son’s foot by this morning, but it seems my supply of worm-root is running low. I can probably have it to you by this evening if you don’t mind me stopping by later-” She faded, her eyes finally drifting up from her recipe to take in the stranger at her door. 

Blinking once, maybe twice, the woman stood frozen as she realized that the person she was addressing was not Mrs. Huxley. The person in front of her was, in fact, about as far from a hale old lady as one could get. His mature face and half-lidded eyes stealing her breath while she stared on for perhaps a moment longer than necessary. Yet with the realization of her mistake, came the rosy hue of embarrassment as she tried to backtrack. 

“Oh! Umm, I’m sorry...I thought you were-” You started, unsure of how to salvage the situation. 

Staring back at the woman, Marco felt something familiar stir in his chest as he took in the sight before him. While he hadn’t expected much from Mrs. Huxley’s description, he surely wasn’t expecting anything like the woman before him. You couldn’t have been much older than (y/a), and yet you seemed to wrap yourself in natural beauty. Between your (h/l) (h/c) hair and your shimmering (e/c) eyes, you were gorgeous. Everything about you radiated a balance of youth and life as Marco drank in your apperance. You might have been younger in years, but what you lacked in age you definitely made up for in curves and appeal. Still, as ravishing and tempting as you were, Marco tried to remind himself of why he had sought you out in the first place. 

“I’m afraid not, sorry to disappoint yoi. Although, I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to stop by later. I’m sure Mrs. Huxley could share your company, should you have a moment.” He grinned, his voice visibly causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. 

Feeling your blush grow, you cleared your throat as you tried to gather your composer. While this man was clearly quick on his feet and somewhat of a smooth talker, he was still a stranger. And despite his alluring appearance, it was impolite of you to keep gawking at him. 

“Hmm well. I’m afraid I may be taken for the evening, if this morning is a prelude to how the rest of my day will fall. However, my humblest apologies for greeting you in such a manner. I...I thought you were someone else.” You smiled, your body visibly relaxing as you properly addressed the man before you. 

“No worries. It’s not the strangest greeting I’ve had yoi.” Marco smirked. 

“Ah, that’s… unfortunate? Is there something I can help you with?” You inquired, doing your best to keep your eyes on the man’s face and not wondering over his impressive frame. Not that the task was too difficult given his facial aesthetics. I mean, who wouldn't want to stare into those eyes?

Feeling his face fall, Marco felt the weight of before return to his shoulders. His smile faltering and cerulean orbs almost pleading when he addressed you again. 

“I truly hope so.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 8 

Chapter Warnings: Language & Character Illness

(Y/n) = Your Name 

(E/c) = Eye Color 

(H/c) = Hair Color 

(H/l) = Hair Length 

Doing your best to piece together the story as you descended the mountain. You found yourself struggling to keep up with the man beside you. Marco's wide gate and urgent stride, making it difficult to focus not only on his words but the rocky terrain under your feet. 

Having stumbled over numerous exposed roots laying in the uneven pathway on your way to the beach, you were beginning to tire. If this kept up, it would be a miracle that you didn’t trip directly into the back of the man. Or worse, end up sliding down the rest of the mountain because of the mud still drying on the trail. 

Finally deciding enough was enough, you slowed your step and called out to the blonde in front of you. Your voice seeming to snap him out of his march while his blue eyes twisted back in an apologetically frown. 

“Okay, okay wait a moment!” You puffed, taking a minute to catch your breath. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. Your friend was the only one who got sick?”

“No, but he is the only one who remains sick.” Marco sighed, his gaze shifting down the path to where the trees started to thin. “A few of the crew ended up with similar cold-like symptoms. However, Thatch is the only one whose symptoms never eased yoi.” 

“Right, and that was a month ago?” You inquired, the blonde taking a moment to think back on the question. 

“A little over a month. It started with a cough that never seemed to get better. After three weeks, the fever kicked in, and then another two weeks later, the rash. It's been closer to eight days since then yoi.” Marco listed, his mind reaching back to double-check his math. “So about two months now.” He frowned. 

“Hmm, but the rest of the crew responded to the medication you gave?” You clarified, watching the man nod.

“Everyone but Thatch,” Marco answered sorrowfully. 

Taking a breath, you gave a slight frown as you put two and two together. If this man had tried as many different remedies as he claimed, then why hadn't his friend recovered? More troublesome yet was the fact that others with similar symptoms had responded to treatment.  So why not the cook? Was there an underlying condition preventing the man from getting better? Or was it possible he had caught something altogether different?

“If that's the case, I’m not sure there is anything I can do medicine-wise to help. Your friend should be getting better, and the fact that he isn't means that the problem runs deeper than any herb can fix.” You said mournfully, moving to place a hand on the blonde’s shoulder. “I know you’ve come a long way but-” you stared. 

“Please,” Marco tried, his eyes pleading back at you. “You’re our last hope.”

Feeling the air catch in your throat, you couldn’t help but let your heart go out to the poor man. While you hadn’t known him for longer than an hour, he had not once stopped trying to convince you to see his friend. Every second spent in agony as if it was he, and not Thatch, that was truly sick. The man’s cerulean gaze filled with hopeless exhaustion while he waited on your answer.

“Fine,” You sighed, a tired smile growing on the man’s face. “But I can’t promise you anything,” you stressed, watching as he nodded. 

“I understand yoi.”

“Good.” You grinned, your lips softening as he returned his worried eyes once more to the path ahead. Whoever this Thatch was, he was a lucky guy. Having such a devoted friend was a blessing and one you had yet to come by. 

Following after the blonde, you were surprised by the speed at which he moved. His adjusted gate slowing until you both found a more comfortable pace to travel by. The small jester, helping you to focus more on what he was saying instead of watching your step. Which further assisted you in understanding a little more about the person you were going to see. 

From what you could tell, Thatch had been a lifelong friend to the blonde and the crew’s chef. Marco doing his best to describe some of the more lighthearted and endearing sagas he and Thatch shared over their years together. His stories helping the time to quickly drift by as you both made it to the shore without further incidents. However, once you reached the beach, you frowned at the severity of the situation. 

Scattered along the sand lay pieces of their ship. The yards of rope and chunks of finely crafted wood, a sorry sight in the daylight. Even if the ship was nowhere to be seen, it was the state of the people that bothered you the most. 

Stretched across the waterfront as they worked, many of the crew sported deep cuts and darkening bruises. They're less than ideal physical conditions, overshadowed by the exhaustion that clung to every face you gazed upon. They looked like crap! 

You knew the storm had been rough, but this went well beyond typical seasickness. It was as if none of the crew had seen proper sleep in days! The dark circles under the blonde’s eyes were the worst, but not the least, by far. Storm or no storm, the injuries and obvious fatigue were more than a little bad weather was capable of. Not that a storm could have left bullet holes in the arms of humans if it tried. But if not the weather, then what else had happened on the group’s journey here? And why had it brought about the use of warfare?

Opening your mouth to start asking a series of questions, you were quickly cut off by the familiar voice of Mrs. Huxley. Her silver braided hair emerging from the ghastly crowd of people busily working on the beach as she waved the two of you over. The woman shifting her attention from giving orders, to blessing you with one of her famous all-knowing smiles.

“Ah, I see Marco was able to find you without too much trouble then.” She grinned, her hand coming to grip yours in greeting. 

“Marco?” You questioned, your gaze shifting back to the blonde as the realization sunk in. 

In his haste to get you to Thatch, Marco had completely forgotten to introduce himself. The now obvious fact, tinting his cheeks with a light blush as he rubbed the back of his neck. Oops. 

“Sorry about that yoi.” He smiled pleasantly. “I may have forgotten my manners in my rush.”

“Hmm, well better late than never I suppose.” you giggled, your (e/c) eyes shifting from Marco to Huxley as you refocused your attention. “How bad?” You asked, your question falling heavily between the three of you while Mrs.Huxley shook her head. 

“Bad.” She answered, her hand tightening around yours before she pointed back to her house. “I haven’t seen anything this dire since the time that woman washed up with pox.” she sighed bitterly. “He doesn’t have long (Y/n).”

“I'll see what I can do for him.” you nodded, an unspoken conversation being exchanged between the two of you as you turned to the house. Beside you, Huxley put a stop to Marco’s advance with a bittersweet smile. The action raising a few brows while you continue into the building.

“It's best if you wait here.” she pressed, Marco frowning back at her. “Trust me, sunny. There's nothing more you can do and for now, it's best to keep out of her way.”

“But-” 

Watching the elder shake her head, Marco let out a reluctant sigh as your figure vanished inside the door frame. His displeasure met with a patient smile while Mrs.Huxley redirected his attention away from the house so you could work in peace. Her efforts successfully giving you the space you would require to do whatever was needed.

Making your way through the home to the far back room, you felt the air around you shift with an uneasy weight. The heavy atmosphere settling deep within your chest the way it always had, when you knew someone was close to death. Which one would think, given the amount of death you had seen in your life, you would be used to by now. But as always, the invisible tension caused you to pause. 

You never knew what to expect when it came to situations like this. Would the person be coherent and agreeable? Or if this man was as sick as they say, would he become angry with you if you truly couldn't help him? It wasn’t uncommon after all for dying people to turn violent once the reality of their situations sunk in. Still, as the sound of a ragged cough drifted out from behind the door, you found yourself pushing forward into the room. The desire in your heart to try and help, far outweighing the caution in your mind. 

Opening the door, you let yourself into the room as the coughing came to an end and the man resting on the bed relaxed. His overall appearance interesting you while you set the small bag of herbs you had brought to the side. The man opening his eyes for the briefest of moments before laughing. 

“When Marco said he was going to try and find a fallen angel, I didn’t think he was serious.” Thatch chuckled, his voice catching you off guard with how weak and distant it sounded. “I have to say, I’m impressed.” 

“Hmm, I’m not sure what you heard, but I think you’ll find I’m far from an angel. Fallen or otherwise.” You smirked, moving to stand beside the bed. Your eyes drifting over the man’s pale face to further take in the scar on his right side. “You must be Thatch. Marco has been telling me good things about you all morning.”

“Ehh all lies,” Thatch huffed weakly, a glimmer of mischief dancing in his eyes as you placed a hand to his brow. The heat of his fever seeping warmly into your skin at the contact. 

“Is that so? Well, I suppose I’ll have to be on my toes then. How are you feeling?” You asked, pulling your hand back to take his pulse. 

While you knew he couldn’t be feeling well, it was still a habit to ask. The answer to your question often helped you to pinpoint symptoms and prescribe medications appropriately. Although, if your introduction to this man was a precursor to anything, appropriate might not be the correct word to use in this situation. 

“Tired, weak, and a little hot,” He coughed, the sound making you pause while the action violently ripped across his body. “... Though I suppose that last one isn’t any different than normal.” He winked.

Blinking at his poor attempt at flirting, you did your best to stifle a laugh. Marco had been right when he had called his friend a shameless tease. Even as he lay dying, Thatch seemed compelled to try his luck. His antics helping you both to momentarily overlook the profuse amount of pain he was enduring.

“I’ll take that into consideration.” You grinned, your brow furrowing when you caught sight of the rash Marco had mentioned. The small red bumps worrying you deeply as you started to undo his shirt for a better look. Your fears being confirmed when the extent of the rash was uncovered and appeared to burn angrily over most of his chest. 

“I’d usually ask for a name before getting to second base, but given the look on your face, I’ll assume I won't be around long enough for it to matter huh?” Thatch sighed, his smirk faltering at the strain of containing another round of coughing. 

Feeling at a loss, you gave Thatch a weak smile. 

“Nah, you’re going to be fine.” you tried, the man giving a choked-off laugh while he shook his head. 

“You’d suck at poker sweetness,” He wheezed, his chest heaving with the effort to breathe. “And besides, never lie to a dying man, it's bad luck.” 

“You’re not-” You started, his hand lifting to stop you. 

“We both know that isn’t true. I’ve seen that look enough times in my life to know what it means. Just never thought I’d be on the receiving end of it.” He smiled, his hand reaching out to gently grip yours. “But I appreciate the effort.”

Looking down into his eyes, you felt time slow. 

While you didn’t know this man, and you owned him nothing. It felt as if you had known Thatch for years with the way he looked at you. His tired expression and fever-ridden brow shimmering with a lifetime of stories, you would never hear. That bittersweet understanding, filling the temporary silence as Thatch’s body continued to tremble. It wouldn’t be long until his strength failed him, and he would succumb to the illness. His face displaying a level of peace with the knowledge that tore holes in your heart. 

“It's alright,” Thatch coughed, your grip tightening on his hand while the fit passed. “Just knowing you’re here is enough.” 

“How can you say that? You don’t know me.” You choked out, your emotions twisting painfully tight in your chest until tears started to prick at the side of your eyes. His lips turning up in a smile as he shook his head and took a few steady breaths. 

“That's true, but this isn’t my first trip across the sea and I’ve seen your type before,” Thatch smirked, his eyes shutting while he continued. “Kind, passionate, and always giving away more of yourself than you should. Just knowing someone like you will be here, to help my brothers when I’m gone, is enough.” 

“Brothers?” You questioned softly, the word catching your attention as it rolled warmly off the cook’s tongue.

“Ah, sorry.” He chuckled weakly. “Our captain treats us like family, and sometimes I forget not everyone is as lucky as I am. Not many can claim to have found such an accepting group… They’re a good bunch.” He grinned. “Gotten me through a fair share of my darkest days.” 

Listening to the tenderness of his words, you felt a fraction of your heart break under a wave of guilt. Had he been just one man, you wouldn’t have hesitated in saving Thatch’s life. But seeing as he hadn’t come to this place alone, the choice before you rested heavily in your mind. Did you save him and risk being exposed? Or leave him to his fate and keep your secret hidden? 

In your head, you knew the obvious answer, but in your heart? Well, that wasn’t as easily swayed. 

You knew the ‘smart’ thing to do would be to give him some pain meds and try to ease his suffering until he passed. Yet a part of you, the portion you kept secretly locked away, told you that saving him was the ‘correct’ thing to do. 

The faces of those who had come seeking help before now dancing across your mind as you wrestled internally with the decision. You had done it in the past. So why hold back now? You weren’t the same fragile kid that washed up here. You had grown in confidence and power. And even if things went astray, the villagers would be there to keep you safe. 

Taking a breath, you tried to weigh the options at hand before coming to a decision. Not that it overly mattered, seeing as your heart was pretty sure it knew the right answer. And as Thatch opened his tired eyes, you let the worry in your mind fade into the background. 

While you may not truly know this man, given everything you had seen and heard up to this point, you had no reason to doubt him. His eyes had remained gentle and inviting, despite the agonizing pain he was in. And even in his grim situation, Thatch had done his best to reassure you with his kindness. How could a person capable of such strength and warmth possibly be a threat? 

The chance was always there, but taking in everything he was in this moment, you allowed yourself to hope. To let optimism seep into your gaze as he continued to gently smile up at you. He was worth it, your heart whispered. 

Thatch was worth the gamble, no matter what came next. 

“Don’t give me that face sweetness, someone as beautiful as you, shouldn’t know a pain that deep.” He smiled, his hand squeezing yours as you wiped at your tears. 

“Sorry, I just don’t want to see such a genuine person die.” 

“We all have to go someday love. No one lives forever.” He coughed.

“I know.” you grinned, your hand giving his a firm squeeze before you let go. “But today isn’t your day. I refuse to let you die here,” you said sternly, moving to stand beside the bed. 

“Hmm, got some kind of herbal hoodoo my pineapple-headed brother hasn’t thought of yet?” he laughed, his eyes filling with skepticism. “Marco has tried everything under the moon and sun.”

“Humph, I’d believe it. He tried to give me a list of failed treatments on the way here,” you smirked, your hands falling to your hips while Thatch chuckled through another cough. “However, I doubt he’s ever tried anything like what I’m about to do.” 

“Hmm, well I applaud your confidence.” Thatch grinned, his chest heaving with a sigh as he accepted your decision. 

“Fair warning though,” you started, (e/c) eyes locking with brown ones. “You’ll probably be pretty tired after this. And it wouldn’t surprise me if you passed out for several hours.”

“If it doesn’t work, I’ll be sleeping for a lot longer.” He joked, his lips pulling up while you scuffed at his morbid humor. 

“Marco was right, you are a handful.”

“Ah, it's all a part of my charm sweetness,” he assured you. 

“I see.” you grinned, his façade causing a momentary smile to grace your features before you glanced worriedly down at him. “Can you promise me one thing before we start?” you asked.

“I can try.” he huffed, his hand once more reaching for yours. 

Gripping it you took a breath and released your bottom lip from between your teeth. 

“Whatever happens, whatever you see, promise me you won't change. That you’ll stay the kind-hearted man your brother tells me you are. I’d like to hear some of these stories from the other side...if you don’t mind.” 

“Couldn’t stop me if you tried. I’ve got to set the record straight after all. Knowing Marco, he glossed over the best parts.” Thatch grinned, his hand giving yours a final reassuring squeeze before he let go. “I promise.” 

Feeling your frown soften, you nodded your head and took a step back. It wasn’t much, but it was all the assurance you needed to follow through with what was to come. The knowledge of what you were about to do, what you were about to expose, causing a shiver of fear to wash over you. There would be no going back, and no way to deny what you truly were. 

“I recommend taking a few deep breaths, this might sting a little.” You smiled nervously, your body language changing as you put a few more feet of space between you. 

Raising a brow, Thatch gave you a shrug before doing what he was asked. The action mimicked by yourself while you focused your attention inward and began to center your energy.

Doing your best to tap into a hidden pool of magic, you allowed the flow of power to begin filling your frame. The warmth of the energy cascading through your veins and causing a chain reaction to overtake your body. 

Starting with a shimmering halo, Thatch watched as your body began to shift with light. Iridescent feathers sprouting from the ends of your (h/c) hair to the tips of your fingers while your arms seemed to vanish under the blanket of white. Your delicate light, illuminating the room like a shooting star until the change came to a sudden stop. 

Taking a breath, you dared to glance back to your patient. His mouth sitting a gap as he took in the beauty of your form. Where once a gorgeous healer had stood, now existed a breathtaking angel. Your tender hands hidden under a layer of sparkling feathers and your eyes. To the moon above, your eyes were the things of myth. If he wasn’t currently clutching his chest, Thatch would have almost been certain you had turned him to stone. 

“You...you’re an ah,” 

Shaking your head, you bit back a laugh at the man’s reaction. While it had been some time since your last shift, the shock factor never got old. No matter how many times you revealed yourself, the slack jaw and wide eyes were always humorous. 

“Deep breaths Thatch, keep breathing.” You grinned, allowing yourself to venture close now that the initial show was over. “I know this may seem strange, but I promise you I’m not some otherworldly being.”

“You’re it, the creature the town was talking about. I mean, you are the angel from the reports and the journal!” 

“I told you, I’m not an angel.” You laughed, his eyes continuing to scan over your body. 

“Then what are you?” Thatch asked, his hand reaching out for a moment before coming to a halt. 

Watching the indecisiveness of his actions, you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. His fingers almost seemed to vibrate as they hovered inches above yours. The cook silently waiting for you to close the distance as a sign of respect for your space. His actions reaffirming to you that you had made the right decision. It wasn’t often, but on occasion revealing yourself had gone sideways. 

“Just a human who ate a strange fruit and gained some strange powers.” You replied, obliging his unspoken request and allowing your hand to rest under his. The motion causing him to finally release the breathe he was holding in a quiet puff.

“Must have been one hell of a fruit.” He mused, his fingers gliding gently over the downy feathers under his hand. “Although, it shouldn't surprise me given some of the other devil fruits I've seen.”

“Devil fruits?” you inquired, your (e/c) eyes gleaming with interest. “Is that what they're called?" 

Feeling his brows knit together, Thatch put his amazement on hold in favor of flashing you an equivocal look. What kind of boulder did you live under to have never heard of a devil fruit? Everyone knew what a devil fruit was, or at least he had thought everyone. 

Opening his mouth to question your lack of knowledge, Thatch found himself hit by another coughing fit. His breath catching in his throat before violently ripping across his body in a torrent of pain. The action causing wave after wave of discomfort to flash over his features while he gritted through the burning sensation.

All further inquiries being put on hold as you took the man’s hand to help steady him. 

While you would have been more than happy to continue your conversation, it could wait for another day. Thatch’s condition wasn’t getting any better and if you continued to stall, there would be no guarantee of his recovery. With this in mind, you focused your attention on why you had come. Your hands giving him a reaffirming squeeze before you shifted to sit beside him on the bed. 

Once in a better position, you allowed your hands to travel up his arms and to his chest. The soft glow surrounding your skin causing a warm sensation to fill the chef’s body like the heat of a bath. His feverish skin vibrating with goosebumps as he felt the congestion in his chest ease with your touch.

Opening his eyes, Thatch took in the seriousness of your expression. Your eyes hyper-focused while the light emanating from your body intensified. The shimmering glow seeping deep into his core and alleviating the weight of his illness. 

Yet, as the drain of the illness started to vanish, the overwhelming exhaustion and numbing sting began to set in. The very last of his reserves being yanked from Thatch’s core while you stole his illness and brought it into your own body. The fever, aches, and rash, no longer plaguing the commander as the disease patterned your frame in his stead.

Shaking at the sheer relief he felt, Thatch placed one of his trembling hands on your forearm with a bitter frown. His breathing uneven from enduring your treatment, but nevertheless agitated as he tried to talk.

“N.no. Please,” He managed. “Now...you’ll-”

“Shhh,” you smiled, your hand brushing a few loose strands of hair away. “It's alright…” you coughed, the oppressive weight of Thatch’s illness kicking in. “This is what I do.” You reassured him. 

Doing his best to hold on, Thatch tried to convey his displeasure with your actions while fighting the urge to sleep. The darkness pricking at the corners of his eyes, while you pulled away from his grip. His hand weakly held out in your direction as you continued to smile back at him. 

If he had known what you would do, he never would have agreed to it. Having dealt with this sickness for close to two months, Thatch knew firsthand how much pain you were currently in. How delirious and sore everything now felt. 

While he had been hoping for a cure, Thatch never would have wished this pain on anyone. Let alone someone like you. You who had been nothing but kind and forthcoming with him. A sweet and honest person who still had so much left of life to see. Why throw that away for someone like him? 

Taking a breath, you tried to steady yourself against the fever. The waves of nausea and chills making it difficult to find your center of gravity as you swayed. Your hands bracing your knees until the world stopped spinning and you could focus again. 

Once you could make heads of the room around you, you let out a loud sigh. No matter how many times you took people’s diseases, it never made the process any easier. The amount of discomfort Thatch had been in, knocking you for a loop while you temporarily contained his illness within your body.

Glancing back at the half-unconscious man, you let your smile fill with warmth. Your body straightening as you stretched your arms and permitted your wings to fully extend. The halo around your body masking the change from your human to avian form. 

“I promise, it’ll be alright.” You cooed, the luminescent feathers now covering your body from head to toe as you took on the final form of your devil fruit. Your overall appearance being that of a snow-white bird. No larger than a swan, but more crane-like in shape. 

Blinking at the majesty before him, it finally made sense. You were the creature from the writing, yet you were far from the angel described. No, you were something entirely more special and rare. You were a caladrius. A mythical being known by few as an avian healer. A creature capable of taking the illnesses of others with a single touch, and then expelling it in a secondary location. Something with the ability to not only cure any sickness but the potential to infect others as well. A healer and a death sentence all wrapped up in the magnificence form of a glistening crane.

Felling comprehension tug at the edge of his mind, Thatch desperately tried to fight his battle with sleep. The alarm bells going off in his head as Bay’s warning surged to the surface. Her words about hiding their Jolly Rogers, docking the ship, keeping pops out of sight, all of it brilliantly focused in his head while you started to take flight. If you made it into the open and saw any of their duplicity, the fallout could be catastrophic. All it would take was one wrong move and you could infect the others. Marco, Ace, Pops, everyone! Everyone he cared for and loved. 

Reaching out, Thatch tried to force his body up. Pain ripping across his torso as his muscles knotted under the excursion. The fear pushing him until finally his body gave out and he collapsed back into the bed. Your worried gaze hovering over him for a moment before the darkness claimed his vision and sleep overtook him. Everything fading peacefully to black while you observed his breathing. 

Frowning, you felt worry prick at your heart. Why had he reacted in such a way? Was something wrong? Was he still in pain? 

He didn’t seem to be in too much discomfort, considering his relaxed expression. But given the almost frantic way Thatch had been trying to talk, you could conclude something was still troubling him. Not that you could overly puzzle through the numerous possibilities given your current fever-ridden state. 

Whatever was still ailing the cook, would have to wait until after you had expelled his illness. If you procrastinated much longer, you wouldn’t be any better than when he first arrived. The strength of his sickness increasing with every second you put off flying. 

Giving Thatch one last look, you swiftly flew to the closet opening and exited the building. Your wings easily catching the wind as you started to ascend through the skies and over the village. Below, dozens of eyes drifted upwards to marvel at your spectacular beauty. Their shock blurring as you finally reached a safe height at which to expel the dreaded illness. 

The sight of your illuminated form surrounded by a sudden cloud of mist, adding to the spectacle while you did your best to keep from looking down. 

Having flown only a handful of times in the last X amount of years, you were slightly ashamed to say that you still had a fear of flying. The distance between you and the ground always causing a spike of adrenaline to quiver up your spine. Yet as you gazed down to the shore below, for once, it wasn't the height that struck fear into your heart. No, this time, it was the distant outline of a ship that caught your attention. The whale-shaped bowsprit weighing down your wings and making your body tremble.

...Pirates.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9

Chapter Warnings: Language 

(Y/n) = Your Name 

(E/c) = Eye Color 

Pacing as he waited, Marco felt his eyes once more drift back to the doorway you had vanished within. His impatiences causing his crewmates to chuckle amongst themselves while they continued to endure their commander’s nervousness. But could anyone blame him? Whatever it was you were doing was taking entirely too long. You had been with Thatch for close to an hour and still, he hadn’t heard a single word from anyone about what was going on. 

As the minutes ticked by, Marco had to wonder exactly what kind of medicine you were using. What could you possibly be doing that would take this long and that he wasn’t permitted to witness? As Thatch’s primary doctor and comrade, one would think that whatever it was you were doing, that he would be allowed to be present for it. What if something went sideways and Thatch had an allergic reaction? What if…

Giving a quiet groan, Marco rubbed the palm of his hands over his face before putting an end to his pacing. This line of thinking wasn’t getting him anywhere. If he kept this up, he would be a nervous wreck. As such, he tossed another longing glance back to the doorway before scanning the busybodies on the beach. His crew and the villagers working in tangent to take account of their situation. 

Sitting next to pops, Mrs. Huxley was helping to coordinate the volunteers with some of the other commanders. Izo and Ace enjoying her sharp tongue as she went a few verbal rounds with their captain. The four a beam of comfort for Marco’s nerves while they chatted. 

Beside them, Abe was busy giving out instructions on which parts of the island were safe to gather wood from. The vast forest being home to many hidden dangers that may cause further problems if not properly navigated. As such, it was suggested that a few of the villagers act as guides to ensure the safety of everyone on the island. Haruta readily agreeing with the gentleman and helping to assign the guides to respective divisions. The groups put in place until enough lumber could be procured to start repairing the ship. After the lumber was gathered, they could work on chopping it to size on the beach using the villager’s donated equipment. Once it was usable, the volunteers would switch out with the next two sets to start preparations for gathering other supplies off the island. Necessities such as clean water, fresh fruits, and game being on the top of everyone's list before they even dared to think about heading back into the storm belt. If everything played out correctly, and with the help of the villagers, they could set sail again in a few weeks. That was...if Thatch’s treatment was a success. 

Feeling slightly more relaxed at the preparations taking place around him, Marco took a moment to enjoy the activity. The buzz of productivity coming to a sudden halt when a shadow appeared overhead. Its strange shape drawing the attention of everyone under it and putting a full stop to the movement on the beach. 

Squinting up at the object, Marco felt his breath hitch at the sight of the angelic bird soaring above him. Its glittering feathers giving off a halo effect that contrasted with the sun in a way that made the creature appear almost iridescent. The shimmering rainbow further displayed as the avian released a cloud of mist from its body. Rays from the sun catching the vapor and illuminating the porcelain bird in a haze of brilliant pigment. The cascade of colors outlining the creature as if it was something gifted to the world by the gods. 

It was the picture of beauty, and as it descended back to the earth, Marco felt like he was witnessing something holy. Every hair on his arms standing on end as goosebumps enveloped his body. The heavenly vision shifting inches above the sand until the glorious feathers faded into limbs, and before him stood the healer. His mouth hanging slightly agape, eyes fully opened in awe while you allowed your body to return to normal. Your (e/c) orbs lifting from under fluttering lashes until you could make heads of the world. 

Focusing on the ground, you did your best to steady yourself on the beach before lifting your gaze to the bodies around you. The sheer abundance of shock that washed over the faces gathered on the shore causing a shiver to run up your spine. Not that you minded the reaction, but with so many eyes on your frame, it was hard not to feel slightly overwhelmed by their attention. Still, taking a breath, you balanced yourself enough to zero in on the object of your affliction. His blonde tuft of hair sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the crowd. 

Feeling time slow, Marco continued to stare in amazement as you narrowed your gaze at him. His mind spinning with questions while you marched a warpath in his direction. The alarm bells misfiring until you stood several feet away and accusingly pointed at him. Every warning falling short as your body language radiated a dangerous aura. 

“You. You’re a-” Marco started, his voice failing him despite the obvious threat standing inches from his reach.

“-A fool,” You finished, the venom in your voice finally getting through to Marco. His eyes relaxing cautiously while he took in the tremble of your outstretched limb. “And you,” You spat viciously. “You are a deceitful bastard! But then, what would one expect from a pirate .” You growled, swiftly closing the distance between you and the blonde as you grabbed the collar of his shirt. The movement triggering several of his crew to jolt out of their daze. Bodies surging forward while you tightened your grip and ripped the man’s shirt open. Disgust growing across your beautiful features as his Jolly Roger proudly smiled up at you. 

Staggering back, Marco was surprised by the strength of your actions. Your body shaking with the adrenaline that coursed through your veins, despite your apparent anger. The fear, making you lash out in a bitterly familiar way to a cornered animal. Yet, as you dragged your gaze from his chest to his face, Marco could see the slight tremble in your lips. You were beyond being terrified, you were pissed.

Holding your gaze, Marco only had a few seconds to process the environment when time caught up with him. His eye’s twisting back as Ace entered his peripheral vision and ignited his flames. The raven’s actions causing your body to shift defensively while the shimmering light from before encased your body with a heavenly glow. Friction building until Marco lifted an arm to stop his brother’s advance. 

Glaring back at the two, Marco felt the power behind your eyes. Your gaze piercing through him like a bullet as the crowd held their breath. The tension continuing to grow while you took a few steps back. Everyone standing on eggshells while Ace extinguished his flame and also took a step back. The distance helping defuse the pressure while you regarded the group. Marco doing his best to further appease your anger by lowering his hands. 

“Easy, we didn’t come here to fight yoi.” He tried, his words carefully chosen to try and assure you. “We don’t want any trouble.”

“Pretty words from the mouth of a criminal, are still lies.” You snapped, allowing your glow to fade as Ace stepped back. Your eyes shifting from the raven to the blonde while he calmly held your gaze. His even tone helping you to relax your defensive stance and distract you from those around you. The gathered bodies shifting aside as Mrs.Huxley hobbled her way through the crowd. 

“That is quite enough (Y/n).” Mrs. Huxley frowned, her cane stamping the ground in front of you with a soft thud. 

“But-” You tried, her eyes narrowing at your tone. 

“No buts.” She scolded. 

“They’re pirates,” You continued, the elder’s face remaining unfazed. 

“I’m well aware of that. I’ve been cognizant of the matter since the moment I invited them to be guests on our island.” Huxley said firmly, her voice easily shaking your anger into confusion. 

“Guests! You can’t be serious.” You blinked, your eyes glancing between the blonde and your elder. 

“I wouldn’t joke about such matters. These kind-hearted people have come to our island seeking help for their sick brethren.” She stated. “Were you able to aid Thatch with his illness?” 

Taken aback, you felt the fire of your fury simmer at the mention of Thatch. His weak smile and gentle touch, flashing across your mind at the elder's question. Was this what he had tried so desperately to warn you of? Was he trying to protect you? Or perhaps, it was his crew he was trying to protect from you.

Lifting your eyes, you took in the expressions around you. The freckled raven and a few of the crew glaring at you distrustfully while Marco looked on worriedly. His half-lidded eyes, a hurricane of emotions that you couldn’t begin to understand. Although, given the circumstances, you couldn't blame him for the way his eyes seemed to follow you questioningly. Yet in the end, it was the expecting gaze of Mrs. Huxley that finally broke your reluctant silence. 

Nodding your head, you took a slow breath before speaking again. Your tone, easing with honor for your elder but remaining rigid given your company.

“I was able to safely take and dispel his illness. He is resting now, but he will require a few days to recover his strength...The sickness took a heavy toll on his body.” You frowned, guilt starting to rise in your chest at the thought of Thatch’s face before he had passed out. 

“Good, then as recompense for your discretion, I expect you to oversee his recovery alongside Marco. Perhaps you can atone for your actions and learn to put your stubborn fear aside.” Huxley instructed, her tone firm as your eyes widened.

Opening your mouth to protest, you quickly shut it at the pointed look the elder shot you. Her authoritative eyes filled with a furious disappointment that almost dared you to try and press the matter further.

“Fine.” You bit back, anger building in your gaze as you let the matter drop. 

While it was clear you weren’t fond of the idea, you respected your elder highly enough not to press the discussion further. Your hardened eyes, turning coldly to the blonde while he watched the exchange. 

“Your friend will be out for a while. Should he wake during the night, see to it that he gets the mixture of powders tied with a green string in the basket I left. It should be dissolved in a large glass of water before you give it to him, and see if he is up to eating.” You advised, Marco nodding his understanding before you turned to take your leave. Hostility clinging to your frame long after you vanished from sight in the direction of your home. 

Watching you go, Marco felt a hand on his forearm. Mrs. Huxley smiling up at him when you were out of earshot.  Her age-worn eyes no longer holding the intensity of the sun behind them, and her face now relaxed in an apologetic smile. 

“Please don’t think bad of her. (Y/n) carries many scars in her heart that time has yet to heal.” She grinned. 

“I suppose that was my fault as well yoi,” Marco smirked, his hand gently squeezing the elders as he sighed. “You did warn me she could be a spitfire. Guess I should have taken that a little more seriously.” 

Giving a scuff, Mrs. Huxley gave a dry cackle before shaking her head and turning back to the onlooking crowd. Their eyes filled with a range of emotions as they waited for an explanation of what had just conspired. The anger, worry, and frustration, making her smile while she started shooing people back to work. 

“Nothing more to see here. Daylight is wasting, and those trees won't cut themselves.” She chimed horsley, her weak attempt at waving her cane threateningly, helping to soothe the nerves of those gathered. Both the crew and the villagers returning to their tasks before the sun further ascended in the sky. If they were lucky, they would be able to get the timber cleared before the sun peaked for the noon hour. After which, they could work on bringing it down to the beach. 

Watching the gathering split, Marco felt a frown pull across his face. A bitter feeling etching itself in the back of his mind as he turned his cerulean gaze back up the mountain. Despite everything that had transpired, he had a sinking suspicion that it wasn’t over yet. Between your body language and volatile reactions, Marco had a feeling he would be taking a closer look at the journal Bay had given him. Something still didn’t add up, and he wasn’t going to give until he had the answer as to why. 

Staring into the flames of the fire, you felt the spin of the questions dancing in your head. After making it home and getting your frustrations out on grinding up herbs for your tonics, an uneasy gloom had settled in your bones. Your mind wandering down a million paths laid out by your anxiety while you worked late into the evening. The flavors of your meal spilling past your attention as you mindlessly sorted through endless possibilities. 

Why had Mrs. Huxley allowed such a group of people on the island? How could she trust pirates knowing the horrors they were capable of? And more importantly, why wouldn’t she have trusted you with the information?

Cringing at the memory of your actions, you let that last question die with the embers of the fire. The disappointed faces of your fellow villagers searing your heart with guilt at the recollection. And then there was Thatch, his face also plaguing your sanity with remorse. 

He seemed so genuine and kind. His smile and choked-off laughter ringing in your ears until you at last admitted defeat for the night. Your tired legs dragging you through your hobbit hole and into bed. The soft fabric of your quilt, a mild comfort to the shame you felt as you imagined it to be a thin wall. A flimsy barrier to temporarily alleviate the inner turmoil you felt. Yet, when sleep came, it brought little peace to your mind. Memories of chaotic flames and sneering faces tormenting the harmony of your rest. Their haunting laughter ripping at the scars you had long tried to bury. Phantom voices threatening to drown you in a hurricane of anguish.

However, just when the nightmares seemed to take control, a serene voice echoed through your dreams. A familiar face emerging from darkness to bring you light. The last remnant of a time long past but never truly forgotten. 

~

Squinting down at the yellow bloom, its name escaped you. You knew it was an important ingredient for your master’s tonic, but for the life of you, you couldn’t recall what it was called!

“Noel! I found it!” you called over your shoulder, the elderly healer giving a stretch in response to your shouting. 

“Wonderful! And what is it that you have found little one?” He inquired, his legs carrying him across the clearing and to your side. 

Bending down, the healer narrowed his eyes for a moment before smiling. A flood of wrinkles covering his face at the action as he plucked the blossom and handed it to you. 

“Ah, yes a very good find. Do you remember what I taught you about this one?” he asked, your brow furrowing with a slow nod. 

“You can dry or heat it, depending on if you want to make a powder or extract the oils.” 

“Excellent, and what does it do?” He prompted, your confidence growing with his praise.

“It's good for coughs and helps to ease pain caused by inflammation from infections or burns.” You grinned proudly, his eyes softening with pride at the light in your gaze. 

“And?” He encouraged, your smile faltering into a sheepish smirk while you blanked on the final question. 

“And it starts with an M?” you tried, Noel’s mouth lifting with laughter. 

“Well, you’re not wrong my dear one. But the name of the plant is Mullein, or Verbascum thapsus if you want to get technical.” He grinned, watching the realization wash over your face.

“Gah! I can’t believe I forgot that!” You huffed, your hand coming up to slap your palm across your forehead. “We went over this one last week when it first came into bloom. I feel so stupid.” You frowned, the healer gently taking the flower from your opposite hand before giving you a sideways hug. 

“Hey, go easy on yourself. This stuff isn’t always straightforward to learn. There are millions of different plants in the world and only one of you. It's alright if you forget a few, the material takes time to absorb.” He smiled, your eyes drifting to the side as you nodded.

“Yeah, I know. I just…” Fading out, you let out a quiet sigh. The frustration written on your face while Noel frowned. 

Feeling the elder move away, you continued to sulk over your failure until he returned with yet another flower for you to identify. 

“Here, this one is easy. Can you tell me what this herb is?” He asked, setting the vibrant flower in your hands. 

“It's a dandelion.” You scuffed, rolling your eyes when Noel nodded approvingly of your answer. 

“And what does it do?” He inquired. 

Frowning, you gave a shrug. 

“It doesn’t do anything, it's just a weed. I mean you can eat it so I guess it has some nutritional value.” You grimaced, the idea of the sticky white sap being in a salad putting you off eating.

“Hmm, it seems you do indeed have a lot yet to learn,” Noel smirked, his body shifting to lean down next to yours so you could both observe the flower closer. “While the dandelion may not seem important, it has a vast range of uses. For instance, you can use it to help treat acne, indigestion, improve metabolism and blood circulation. Some people even suggest using it to treat joint pain.” 

“Really? One little weed can do all that?” You asked in amazement, your eyes twisting to Noel’s as he nodded back to you. 

“Oh yes and more. But you know there is a saying about ‘weeds’ that almost every great herbalist knows. And it is ‘That the difference between a flower and a weed, is the judgment passed upon it.’” Noel grinned, your eyes glistening with wonder while you gazed back down at the bloom in your hands. 

“It's important to understand that while others may see a weed, we healers see opportunity. Some of the most potent herbs started as nothing more than obnoxious weeds. But when you approach things with an open mind, you’ll find that almost everything in this world has a unique purpose. And it's our job to figure out those wonderfully varied purposes.” He smirked, his words weighing thoughtfully on your mind. 

“...Like the village.” You chimed after a moment. “Each person is different, and yet like the plants, they all have a unique purpose!” You smiled, your epiphany suddenly being interrupted by the gently poking of Noel’s fingers into your sides. His actions causing a series of squealing laughter to fall from your lips as you attempted to swat away his hands. 

“Now you’ve got it! What a smart little pupil you’ve become!” He praised, his fingers tickling over your body until you both ended up kneeling on the ground. Well, him kneeling and you flat on your back. 

Still, allowing your laughter to fade into the occasional giggle, Noel gazed upon you in a way you had forgotten existed. His gentle eyes and loving aura, filling you with a sense of security and familiarity. It was the same way your parents had looked upon you when you were still a child. Their warmth, seeming to pour through the afterlife and into this moment. The world and its cruelty vanishing from your mind and giving you momentary bliss. 

Letting out a content sigh, you allowed your eyes to close while you took in the sounds of the forest. The shade helping to keep you cool while the salty sea breeze pulled at the canopy above. Perfection all around you as a thought came to your mind. 

“Noel?” You called, sitting up so you were eye level with the healer. 

“Yes, little one?” He answered patiently, his gaze encouraging you to voice the thought that ailed you. 

“What did you think of me when you first saw me? Was I a weed?” You inquired, the healer staring at you with wide eyes before smiling softly back at you. 

“I suppose yes, you were much like a weed when I first met you. Filled with overlooked potential and brimming with a secret purpose.” He grinned, your eyes helplessly looking back at him. “But just because you acted like a weed doesn’t mean that I couldn’t see you for the flower you were capable of being. Much like everything else in life, I kept an open mind. And it's a good thing I did. If I hadn’t, I might not have gotten to see the beautiful flower you have become.” 

Staring blankly at the man in front of you, you felt a wave of emotions flood your body. The majority of them overflowing in the form of tears from your eyes as Noel pulled you to his chest and wrapped his arms around you. 

Placing a single kiss to the top of your head, the healer proceeded to rub his thumb in comforting circles over your back while you cried. His chin coming to rest on the top of your head. 

“Oh, what a perfectly lovely blossom you are. No matter what the world may call you, be it weed, monster, or beast. You will always be my greatest treasure in life little one. The most beautiful flower the earth has ever seen.” 

~

Opening your eyes to sit up in bed, you felt tears run down your cheeks as the dream subsided. Noel’s voice fading from your mind as the bitter throb of longing stabbed through your body. The pain of loss gripping your chest until the final hour of darkness subsided, and the first silver of the sunrise broke through your home. 

Lifting your head from its spot nestled atop your knees, you felt emotionally raw at the memories of what once was. The happiness of that time only helping to further highlight the negative feelings from the night before. Yet, as you made your way out of bed and over to your window, you couldn’t shake the words drumming in your head. Their message hounding your resolve until finally, you grabbed the nearest jacket and started down the mountain. 

‘...just because you acted like a weed doesn’t mean that I couldn’t see you for the flower you were capable of being...I kept an open mind. And it's a good thing I did. If I hadn’t, I might not have gotten to see the beautiful flower you have become.’

The only difference after all, between a weed and a flower, is simply the judgment we pass upon it.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

Chapter Warnings: Language, General Crew Shenanigans.

(Y/n) = Your Name 

(E/c) = Eye Color 

(H/c) = Hair Color 

(H/l) = Hair Length 

Allowing a yawn to slip from his mouth, Marco did his best to stretch out his tired muscles. His arms reaching over his shoulders until the tension eased into a numbing buzz. The bottom hem of his shirt lifting to display his well-sculpted hip bones while he exited the living room to check in on Thatch.

Having slept for a handful of hours during the night, Marco felt the drag of yesterday’s events tugging on his energy levels. Between getting preparations for the ship set up, and his wandering questions, he was amazed by the few hours of rest he had managed. Thatch having faired better, as he slept peacefully through a majority of the evening and morning hours, with only a single bout of coughing to interrupt his slumber. Said hacking fit, resulting in an hour-long conversation where Marco attempted to catch his brother up on the day's events. Which then led to another thirty minutes of questioning by the cook that caused a borderline migraine for the blonde. Needless to say, it was a miracle he had slept at all. 

Walking into the back room, Marco felt a subtle shift in the tension of the air. His eyes lazily drifting over the space before settling on the recently opened window. The early morning light filtering through the threshold and bathing the chamber in the rich hues of the sunrise as you sat gazing out the open portal. Your (h/c) hair occasionally swaying over your face from the pull of the draft within the house. And your (e/c) eyes transfixed on the sunrise while your chin gently rested on your hand. Your chest rhythmically rising as you breathed in the tranquility of the hour. 

You were breathtaking to behold, and yet, Marco was cautious to make himself known. 

After yesterday’s altercation, he wasn’t certain how you would react to his presence. Your aggression fervently present in his mind as he allowed himself to linger by the doorway. His half-lidded eyes patiently waiting for you to take notice of him while he admired your beauty. It was strange to think someone as gorgeous as you could conceal such danger. And yet, the fact that you hid your true power didn’t surprise him. Given what he could guess of your past, he couldn’t blame your distrust for strangers. It was, after all, strangers who had taken you from your home and forced you into submission. That was if the journal was anything to go by. The few passages he had managed to read, tickling the back of his mind as you started to pick up on his presence. 

Shifting your eyes from the horizon, you nervously cast your gaze around the quiet room. Your (e/c) orbs landing on the blonde and drinking in the sight of the mark on his chest. The Jolly Roger, flashing painfully across your memories while you regarded the man. His calm but uncertain regard, feeding the guilt that swirled in your chest. Guilt that made it difficult to stare into his cerulean eyes and imprisoned your words under the pressure building in your chest. Your voice escaping you until Marco finally put you out of your awkward misery. 

“You’re up early. I didn’t think we’d see you till later yoi.” He scuffed softly, his tone just loud enough for you to hear. 

Glancing from the floor to the blonde, you felt yourself blink a few times before nodding. Your lips forming a thin line as you turned your gaze to the brunette sleeping in the bed beside you. The steady rise and fall of his chest causing you to smile while he rested. 

“I wanted to come to check in on him,” You said gently, your voice also hushed so as not to wake the sleeping cook. “His color is better, and his pulse seems steadier now,” you commented, Marco, nodding at your words before leaning against the door frame of the room. 

“Whatever was in that powder you mixed up seemed to help a lot,” Marco noted, his body language remaining mute of emotions. 

“I'm not surprised. It was a mix of concentrated vitamin C, ginger, and multiple electrolytes. Should have been the boost his immune system needed to kick any residual illness from his body.” You smiled, your gaze finally drifting back to the blondes. 

“Ah, that makes sense. He said it was like drinking a lemon yoi.” Marco grinned, his body relaxing with the conversation. 

“Was it? I could have sworn I added some cane sugar, but perhaps in my rush to get here-” You faded, your mind reaching back to try and remember what you had mixed together. While you were almost positive you had added the sugar, you might have missed the ingredient entirely in your hurry.

Shrugging, Marco waved it off. 

“Doesn’t matter now. He managed to get it down before passing out again.” Marco informed you, his figure more inviting even if the distrust remained. 

“Ah, well, the sleep should help as well.” You smirked. “If at all possible in the next few days, he should try and average at least ten hours. And since he got the first batch down, he should be moved to the mixture tied with the blue strings,” You instructed, Marco opening his mouth to answer before a groan cut him off. 

“Please tell me it tastes better than the last bunch. I’m not sure I can stomach another round of piss water.” Thatch complained, a single tired eye opening while he rubbed the other. His hand coming to comb through his hair as you bit back a laugh. 

“Seeing as it’s a mix of dried blueberries, almond powder, vanilla flowers, and crystalized honey, it should taste much better than the last.” You grinned playfully. “And this one is served hot, so it shouldn’t be as bitter.”

“Sounds doable.” Marco agreed as Thatch nodded and closed his eyes.

“It's my go-to in winter. Full of antioxidants and other important nutrients. Although I add in a few extras for flavor.” You admitted, Marco raising a brow while Thatch stretched.

“Well, as fascinating as this conversation has been. Do you two mind taking it elsewhere? I’m not sure I’ve met my ten-hour quota for the day just yet.” Thatch smirked, his eyes opening tiredly to stare up at the both of you. 

Smiling back at him, you gave him a good-natured eye roll before moving to stand. Your hands going to his forehead and wrist to double-check he was stable before finally agreeing to leave him in peace. 

“Sure, get some rest. I’ll be back to check on you tonight, alright?” You asked, Thatch’s hand reaching out to squeeze yours while he nodded. 

“It's a date sweetness.” He winked, Marco’s eyes rolling at his brother's behavior, but nonetheless coaxing a smile out of everyone in the room. 

“Pfft, you really are hopeless…now sleep.” You encouraged, the cook letting his eyes shut while a relaxed smile blossomed over his face. The sight causing you to smile in kind before following Marco out of the room. 

Gently closing the door behind you, you allowed your gaze to linger after the blonde as he moved back through the house. His demeanor was calm, but you could feel the tension from before. Without Thatch to redirect the focus, it became obvious that there was still very much left unresolved between the two of you. And as the guilt began to twist in your chest, you found yourself nervously filling the silence of the home. Marco coming to a full stop when you timidly tested the unstable waters. 

“I umm, I wanted to apologize for the way I acted yesterday.” You started, your eyes lifting from the floor in a sorrowful fashion. Every inch of your body radiating nervous energy as Marco tracked the anxious twitch in your fingers. “I was out of line.”

Giving a single nod to show he acknowledged your words, Marco took a step to continue on his way. His lack of communication pushing you to further plead your case while you attempted to catch up with his taller gate. 

“Please, wait.” You frowned, the blonde coming to a stop just shy of the main threshold of the house. His body shifting to lean on the open door frame in a relaxed manner as the world beyond the home bustled with life. 

Already awake for the day, a majority of the crew was busying themselves with their daily assignments along the beach. Their varied frames sporadically intertwined with members of the village who had also gotten up early to lend a helping hand. Even Mrs. Huxley seemed to be up and immersing herself in the cluster of individuals. Her silver hair easily spotted next to the infamous captain while the two worked on organizing the many groups with their tasks.  

Stalling a moment longer, you bit the inside of your cheek before pressing on. 

“Look, I’m not good at...this,” You sighed, your hands motioning to the blonde and his crew. “Confrontation isn’t something I do well.”

“The buttons on my shirt would beg to differ yoi.” Marco huffed, his arms coming to cross over his chest. 

Grimacing at the memory, you let out an awkward laugh. 

“Yeah, sorry about that. I can fix it if you like. I’m not the best at sewing, but I should be able to stitch it up.” You offered, the blonde raising his hand to wave off your suggestion. 

“It's fine. Nothing I can’t replace or repurpose.” He shrugged.

“Are you sure? I feel like it's not…” You frowned. 

“It's just a piece of cloth yoi. What you should be worried about is fixing the disorder you caused. A shirt is a shirt, but I wasn’t the only one you put off with your actions.” Marco furrowed, his brows knitting together as the guilt began to show on your features and the shame burned in a pink blush over your cheeks. 

Holding his gaze as best you could, you felt unsure of where to go from here. Maroc’s words cut deep, and as the memories played back in your mind for the hundredth time, you knew he was right. Your actions hadn’t just affected the blonde, but everyone he cared for as well. You had openly insulted not only him but his family and captain.  

“If you truly are sorry, prove it.” 

Watching him shift from the door frame, you were left speechless within the emptiness of the room. The quiet falling heavily at your feet as you gazed after the commander and considered his words. Stillness falling over you until your hands balled into fists with determination. You hadn’t come this far to back away from a challenge. While you never expected it to be easy, you had held out hope that it would be slightly more simple than having to prove yourself. 

“What did you think of me when you first saw me? Was I a weed?”

“I suppose yes, you were much like a weed when I first met you. Filled with overlooked potential and brimming with a secret purpose.”

Taking a breath, you narrowed your gaze on the shoreline beyond the doorway. As was often the case, cleaning up a mess was a more tricky task than making it. Yet, that wasn’t going to stop you from trying. While you may have your work cut out for you, you would give it your best. All you had to do was take the first step. After that, you could work on putting the pieces back together one by one. 

With that in mind, you stole the small amount of courage you had left and exited the elder’s home with your head held high. Your (e/c) orbs focused forward as you marched your way across the sand and stood in front of Whitebeard and Mrs. Huxley. The two pausing in their conversation when you respectfully bowed your head to address them. 

“(Y/n).” Mrs. Huxley greeted, her tone slightly wary as the two waited expectedly. 

“Ma’am, sir.” You nodded, the beach growing quiet while everyone paused to hold their breath. “I’ve come to formally apologize to both of you on behalf of my actions yesterday. I was disrespectful to not only our guests but your wishes as my elder.” You stated, your body straightening to hold their gazes.

Exchanging a glance, Newgate allowed Mrs. Huxley to speak first. Her eyes settling warmly upon your frame with a tired smile. 

“I appreciate your apology, dear one. While I know you still face many demons from your past, I ask that you have faith in my decisions for the future. I rely not only on your trust but the trust of everyone around us. When you so violently question my choices, you undermine the sanctity of our faith in one another.” She grinned, her love radiating deeply throughout her words. “Know I only have your best interests at heart. And if there had been any alternative, I would have sought a different path than the one that upset you.”

“I know.” You ducked, the smallest of smiles pulling at the corners of your lips. “I am sorry that I did not respect your decisions as I should have. I understand that you were only doing what you thought was right, and I should have trusted in your judgment. I am truly sorry.” You frowned, your head lifting sorrowfully to Whitebeard. “If you would allow, I would like to assist in helping you repair your ship. I may not be a wood smith, but I am good with my hands and have a young back. It would be my pleasure to atone for my transgressions against you and your family.” 

Raising a brow, Newgate held your gaze a moment longer before a rich grin spread across his face. The sight shocking you for a moment as he let out an approving laugh. 

“You’re a spirited brat, I’ll give you that.” He smirked, one of his hands motioning to a member of the crowd adorned in one of the most beautiful kimonos you had ever seen while he continued. “But if you’re so keen to be of use, we’ll put you to work. Izo, find and oversee a job for her. I expect the two of you to keep out of trouble.” He chuckled, the well-dressed man now moving to your side as you stared stunned for a moment. 

“I don’t need a babysit-” You started, only to bow your head at the sideways glance you received from Izo. “Thank you. I’ll be sure to work diligently on whatever task you two see fit for me.” 

Giving a huff, Izo rolled his eyes before taking his leave. His taller stature, much like Marco’s, making it difficult for you to keep up as he headed down the beach towards the ship. 

“Just what I needed, another head to keep track of.” 

Frowning up at the man, you did your best not to take the bait from his comment.

“I’ll do my best to keep out of your way. I just want to help, I promise.” You sighed, your eyes almost pleading while he stared back at you. 

Coming to a stop, you waited for the man to tell you off. His narrowed gaze digging through you as he searched your face for any ill intent. The seconds ticking by painfully slow until the man relaxed his eyes and let out an exhausted breath of air. One that spoke more to his worry than any anger or distrust he held for you. 

“...Hows Thatch?” He questioned, his ashen orbs softening with concern while you blinked back at him. 

“What?” You asked, your brain attempting to understand the sudden shift in the man's behavior.

“Thatch, you saw him this morning, correct? Marco said his breathing was better yesterday, but he didn’t give us any updates before heading out to help gather wood this morning.” He explained. “So, how is he?” 

“He’s good.” You said softly, your body relaxing as the commander nodded. “He was awake this morning, but given the tole the illness had on his body, he passed out again pretty quickly. Of course, not before attempting to flirt, that is.” You grinned, Izo smirking back at you as relief visibly washed over his body. 

“Sounds about right,” Izo commented, his feet finally moving to continue down the path to where the ship lay. “...Thank you. He may not look like much to everyone else, but to us…”

“I know…” You smiled, your shoulder gently bumping into the commander’s as he softly beamed back at you. “Anyways, he should be resting for a while. Which means you’ve got me for the better part of this morning and afternoon.”

Raising a brow, Izo let an almost predatory smirk crawl over his face at your words. The sudden uptick in his features sending a chill down your spine as you wondered if you had just dug your own grave. Whatever it was that the man had in mind, you had a feeling you would regret it later. 

“I’ve got just the task for you. Should keep you busy enough and out of the way.” He grinned, guiding you the rest of the way down the shore to the Moby. The whale-shaped bow smiling back at you while you took in the masses of bodies gliding over the sand. Everyone busily working on sorting through cargo, trimming wood, restringing rigging lines, and patching up the many holes/ dents scattered around the exterior of the ship. Their efforts periodically coming to a stop as people took notice of your presence or paused for a water break. The sheer amount of individuals present was astounding given the somewhat early hour of the morning. 

And yet, each one looked as if they belonged together. Their Jolly Rogers and easy-going conversation covering the beach with a sense of familiarity. As if they truly were of blood relation to one another. 

Stopping to take in the sight, your mouth sat slightly agape as you observed the warmth in the atmosphere. Your gaze shimmering with understanding as Izo allowed you a minute and moved to speak with one of the deckhands close by. The serenity of the moment coarsely shattered when you came eye to eye with the raven from yesterday. His brilliant freckles a dead giveaway, despite the way they crinkled with his narrowed gaze.

...Right.

Bracing for the argument to come, you were surprised when Izo firmly planted himself between you and the freckled raven. His arms folding sharply across his chest while the shirtless man pointed at you accusingly.

“What is ‘she’ doing here?” 

“Easy Ace, she’s only here to help.” Izo frowned, the raven scrunching his nose up at the idea. 

“Why would you let her help? She attacked Marco!” Ace retorted.

“Because she openly apologized for her actions this morning, and pops saw fit to leave her under my watch today. So no picking fights hot head, we’ve got a lot of work to get done without you starting crap.” 

Listening to the two, you felt the guilt from before starting to build. Ace had been the first one to try and come to Marco’s aid yesterday. And if not for the blonde’s quick interjection, you might have very easily found yourself in a fight with the man before you. 

“I know you don’t trust me, but I am sorry for what I did. I don’t want to cause any more trouble.” You promised, the raven shifting his narrowed gaze between you and Izo before tossing his hands up. 

“Fine, whatever. If the old man thinks it's worth the risk, then who am I to argue?” Ace puffed. “But I'll be keeping an eye on you.”

Watching him turn away, you let out a breath of air before turning to Izo. The commander shaking his head disapprovingly as Ace made his way back to his task. Honestly, what a hothead.

“Don’t pay him any mind. He’s just blowing out hot air.” Izo smirked, his hand moving to the small of your back to coax you forward towards the boat. Your eyes showing insecurity as the commander guided you to a mess of different boxes. Some neatly packed and labeled, while others lay empty with piles of halfway sorted goods next to them. 

“What’s all this?” 

“This,” Izo sighed. “Is what ended up shifting around below deck during the storm. When the haul became compromised, a lot of the supplies had to be brought above deck and resorted.” 

“Ah, I see.” you frowned, your eyes scanning the chaotic supplies and the few deckhands that were rifling through it. “So I’ll take it, you want me to help organize your stockpiles?”

“It would be a great help. We can’t onload anything apart from the food and medical supplies, given that the infirmary and kitchen were the only two sections left undamaged. However, if you could start packaging the arranged piles into the appropriate crates, we can see about storing them out of the way until the hull is repaired.” Izo explained, your head nodding along as you let out another breath. This wasn’t going to be easy, but at least the deckhands had already separated the supplies into related groups. Shouldn’t be too difficult to then just package everything, right?

Casting Izo a final smile, you rolled up your sleeves and got to work. The commander checking in from time to time as you worked with a few of the crewmembers to get everything packed up. The stacks of finished boxes then being taken from your piles, and further sorted by what level they belonged on. Which, after your first few crates, started to make sense. Once the ship was repaired it would be easier to bring everything back on board, starting with the lowest levels and ending with the upper deck.

Having worked diligently for the first two hours, you had been surprised when a few of the crew offered for you to take a break. Their sweat-covered brows, a mirror image of yours as you accepted a glass of water and found some shade to rest in. A handful of them following your lead before spending the next half hour opening up a line of conversation with you. Their extravagant stories helping you to pass the time until your break was up.

From what you could tell, the deckhands were a modge podge of individuals from across the planet. Each one had a unique story to tell and perspective on life. Yet, the one thing they all seemed to share in common was an undying loyalty to their captain. The topic of their captain, bringing about some of the most preposterous tales of the afternoon.

Still, it was heartwarming to hear each of them boast about how great Whitebeard was. Light shimmering through their eyes and filling you with a comfortable warmth as you continued to listen while you worked. The conversation lasting well into midday before you were drawn away by Izo to help carry the crates you had organized. Apparently packing them was only half of the deal, and now that they were sorted, a 'small' selection could be brought on board to be stored away. Which was all fine and dandy, except for the fact that there were dozens of them!

Stretching out your back, you tilted your head to the side as you approached the pile of boxes. The looming tower slowly being chipped away by the members of Juzo’s group. God, it was going to be nothing short of a miracle if you remembered more than a third of everyone’s names. 

Sucking in a deep breath, you picked up the first of the crates and fell into the conga line of bodies. Your eyes shifting over the box to ensure you didn’t bump into anyone while you walked. Even if, everyone was already tripping on the backs of each other's shoes. 

Lift with your knees, follow the line, cross the deck, and relinquish the box to the next able-bodied personnel. 

This was the pattern you followed until the majority of the boxes were packed away somewhere in the colossal ship. Each one carefully carried and passed off in between rounds of chatter and songs. The entire mountain of crates quickly vanishing as yet another hour slipped by on the horizon. And when it came down to the last bunch, you were more than willing to stack two of the lighter boxes on top of each other before falling back into line. Your attention focused more on a conversation you had stumbled into between Haruta and Ace than your pathway ahead. 

Sometime halfway through taking your first break and finishing up sorting the supplies, the freckled man had come to check on your work. Both him and Izo, approving of what you had accomplished before sending you off to help carry newly packed boxes. Which in turn, had led to the raven relaxing his guard around you. 

While it hadn’t been easy at the start, you had finally found your way in when the subject of siblings came up. Not having any, you had been fascinated by the idea of Ace having two brothers when he was younger. And with your eagerness to hear about them, the raven had begrudgingly lowered the chilly front from this morning. His attitude towards you slowly improving with every story he told and every laugh the two of you shared. Yet, just when things seemed to be looking up, you found yourself flat on your butt and face to face with an irritated lynx. The creature whirling on you after you had accidentally stepped on his tail. Your lack of concentration ultimately catching up with you as you raised a hand to protect your face from the cat's furious yowl. 

Shifting back, you tried to inch yourself away from the angry feline when you felt a hand at your side. Ace’s other arm putting a stop to the lynx’s advance while the cat stubbornly lashed its tail from side to side. Everything coming to a halt as people stopped to see what the ruckus was about. 

“Easy Kotatsu, it was an accident.” Ace reassured, the feline glaring past the raven to stare directly at you. 

Taking in the sight of the magnificent cat, you swallowed the lump in your throat as it pinned its ears and sat down. Its long fangs more than a little off-putting while it obediently listened to the freckled commander. 

“There, see.” Ace grinned, his head spinning to flash you a show-stopping smile. The sight causing a nervous laugh to bubble its way out of your mouth. 

“Sorry about that. Guess I should watch where I’m going.” You apologized, the feline seemingly appeased with your answer as it started to lean into your body. His large head inches from your frame to curiously take in your scent. 

Flinching back, Ace chuckled at your actions before gently taking your hand and guiding it out in front of Kotatsu. The lynx instantly raising his head to breathe over your skin while you watched on in amazement. His slightly coarse nose hair finding its way under your outstretched arm as Ace let your hand lax and observed the interaction. Your fingers gently rubbing under the feline’s chin until it let out a pleasure chuffing sound and pressed further into your frame. The big cat all but squishing you under his body in his attempt to give you better access to his chest and chin for scratches. 

Grinning widely, you didn’t hesitate to oblige Kotatsu and even went as far as to press your forehead into his when the opportunity presented itself. Both of you enjoying the interaction until the sounds of laughter drew your attention back to those around you. The many faces of the deckhands snicking at the sight of you pinned under the lynx while you cuddled the purring fluff ball. In all honesty, even Ace had to admit it was pretty adorable to see. Still, they had work to do. And as the raven and Haruta helped you out from under your new friend, you were quick to reach for the boxes you had dropped. 

“Here, allow me.” Ace grinned, shifting the crates from your grip and into his own. 

“Oh, thank you. You have a gorgeous feline, by the way.” You smirked, giving in to the lynx when he rubbed against your hip. Your hand finding its way between his shoulder blades with ease while he purred contently. 

“Yeah, he’s quite the lover, despite how intimidating he looks.” Ace beamed. “I rescued him from a circus awhile back, and he seemed to take a liking to me. Been by my side ever since.” he boasted proudly. 

“Awe, how sweet. Poor guy, cages are the worst.” You whined softly, your baby talk met with encouraging chuffs of agreement as Kotatsu leaned into your touch. The action causing you to bend down and place a small kiss on his head. 

“Yeah, he was in pretty rough shape from what some of the spades group told us.” Haruta frowned, his hand also coming to rub over his crewmate. His fingers gently scratching behind the cat’s ears until he relented in his begging to shake out his fur. “I’m glad he found his way to us.” 

“Me too. I know what it's like to feel trapped...I wouldn’t wish that fear on even my worst enemies.” You huffed, Haruta nodding his head in agreement. 

“Well, it's over now. He’s with us, and we’ll never let anyone hurt him again.” Haruta grinned, his gaze shifting from Kotatsu to you. “Hey if you’ve got a minute, think you could help me re-string one of the sails? I know Izo was planning on cutting you loose when you finished with the boxes, but I really could use a hand.” 

Blinking blankly back at the brunette, you quickly nodded your head. 

“Sure, I would be happy too. When I'm done though, I should get back to check in on Thatch. I have a feeling that bum slept the day away while we were working.” You teased. “Which means he’ll require something to eat and the next round of vitamins.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Haruta smirked. “I’ll get the rigging and meet you on the far front mast.”

Raising a brow, you let the commander’s words wash over you. When he said ‘on’ surely he didn’t mean up on top of the mast post, did he? 

Moving to the front of the ship you were surprised to find that yes, he had indeed meant ‘on’ the wooden beams. The shafts of wood having already been stripped bare of rope and in dire need of new tethers to attach the sails to. Sails that were suspended a good fifty feet or so off the ground… because of course, it had to be those sails. 

Following the brunette up the first fifteen feet, you found yourself wondering if life really got a kick out of pushing your comfort zones or if you had actually wracked up this much karma to answer for? Either way, nothing was stopping you from being encouraged further and further off the ground. Your hands shakily stringing the network of ropes through portions of the linen sails as you went. And your eyes solely focused on the skies above you instead of the shrinking ground below. 

All in all, you were doing great! 

That was, until you caught sight of an all too familiar tuft of blonde, and lost your footing...

Chapter Text

Chapter 11 

Chapter Warnings: Language. 

(Y/n)= Your Name

(E/c) = Eye Color

(H/c) = Hair Color 

(H/l) = Hair Length  

Feeling the sweat drip from his brow, Marco strained against the weight of the lumber in his arms. The timber having been cut last night and separated so that it could be carried to the beach for processing this morning. Once it arrived, it was further sectioned into thinner boards and set aside for shaping by Kingdew or dehydrating by Ace. However, neither option made carrying the wood through the forest any easier at the moment. And with the sun continuing to creep higher in the sky, Marco had to admit he was slowly starting to lose the enjoyment of his workout. Yet, the task did provide him enough space, and focus, to gather his thoughts. The scene from this morning, echoing through his mind as the image of your guilt-ridden eyes burned holes in his resolve. 

You had seemed so genuine with your words. The regret and shame blatantly etched in every nervous twitch and sideways glance, as if you truly lamented your actions. But if that was the case, then why committee them in the first place? You didn’t seem like a person who took pleasure in violence; at least, not as far as he could tell. Not that he could honestly claim to know you, given the short amount of time he had spent with you prior to the altercation. Still, the matter of the fact was that your actions, body language, and words seemed to be at war with each other. Your internal emotions written in riddles across your body. Riddles that twisted his mind for answers every time your face flashed across his memory. 

And then there was the matter of you being a mythical zoan type like him. The recollection of your beautiful wings and shimmering halo further confusing him.

From what he could tell after skimming the journal, you had possessed the devil fruit before being forced into your captor’s crew. So why hadn’t you used it against them, or tried to escape over the years? Why had it taken the ship wrecking for you to be free? And what had happened after that? There was a lot about you that didn’t appear to add up. Passages of your story that secretly hang in your mind and heart. Your untold narrative holding the answers to the behavior that troubled the first division commander. 

What was he missing?

Letting out a long sigh, Marco shifted the position of the cumbersome logs on his shoulders. His mind once again flashing back to this morning. Your beautiful (e/c) eyes and (h/l) (h/c) hair fluttering in the breeze of the beach as you apologize to your elder. 

While he hadn’t stuck around long enough to overhear your apology, he had been happy to see you earlier working alongside Izo on the beach. The geisha man, overseeing your labor as you diligently followed every order given. Your laughter, filtering through the trees and filling the blonde with a sense of contentment when he had dropped off the first few loads of timber. 

Having hung back for a few minutes, Marco had been happy to see you fervently keeping up with his brothers. Your quick wit and willingness to lend a hand, helping to rebuild the unstable bridges you had burned yesterday. All the while making progress towards getting their ship patched up. And with the inventory in good hands, Marco had found it easy to leave you in the company of the crew. His mind wandering back to the task of moving the large quantities of wood they would eventually need. Wood that was currently cutting off the circulation in his arms. 

Making his way once more to the beach, Marco set this load of timber aside before trying to roll the tension out of his shoulders. His iconic purple shirt tied loosely over his hips while he worked on the kinks forming in his neck and back. The sight of his actions easily tracked by a pair of curious (e/c) orbs as the sweat dripped sinfully slow down his broad chest. The person’s focus, shifting from the tilt of his head down to the prominent dip of the commander's hip bones. His muscles tensing and relaxing lazily while the blonde took his sweet time stretching out his stiff appendages.

The glorious spectacle completely distracting you from your task when your foot shifted against the grain, and you lost your balance. This slight miscalculation effortlessly leading to your current situation as you clung to the beam below you for dear life. Your legs helping to steady you while you straddle the mast with tightly shut eyes. Of all the jobs to get talked into, it just had to be the one that dealt with heights. 

Hearing the sudden commotion, Marco paused in his stretches to cast his gaze over the ship. The shrill yelp causing everyone to stop in their duties as they tried to identify the source of the distressing sound. Their concern only growing when someone, at last, spotted Haruta, trying and failing, to help you from where you hung off the mast like a koala. Your body starting to slip from the sweat forming on your limbs, making your already terrifying experience a hundred times worse. 

Clinging to the wood pillar, you managed to hook your ankles over one another before sliding any further. Your body pressing into the post as you tightened your bear hug on the rod and screwed your eyes shut. Everything around you fading away while the blood rushed deafeningly loud against your eardrums. Your heart, racing in your chest as painful memories played over in your mind. The world falling away until a gentle touch snapped you of the panic. Haruta’s words drawing you back into reality while he tried to get you to release your death grip on the mast. 

“(Y/n) you need to let go so I can pull you up.” He tried, his voice gentle with worry as you shook your head. 

“No! I’m going to fall!” You trembled, your body quivering at the mere idea of plummeting back to the earth. 

“If you don’t let go, I can’t help you.” He pressed, his tone becoming slightly more urgent when a gust of wind jolted the untied riggings around you. With the uptake of the afternoon breeze, the chances of the ropes coming loose and tying around you also began to increase. 

“It’s fine! Just give me a minute…” you huffed, your breathing slightly labored as you tried to process the adrenaline coursing through your veins. 

Below you, Marco finally managed to catch sight of your precarious position. His eyes narrowing at the way the riggings shifted dangerously close to you in the wind. The rope you had been carrying already tightly wrapped around your wrist as you attempted to calm yourself down and refrain from falling further. Its coarse fibers digging into your skin but nonetheless helping to hold you in place in the breeze.

Shielding his eyes from the sun, Marco let his arms fade into flames. His wings effortlessly lifting him over the ground and to the opposite side of the mast as Haruta.

“You have to let go!” Haruta pledged once again. “(Y/n) the wind is picking up, please.”

“I can’t!” you shivered, your eyes remaining shut as another gust of wind billowed over the sails. 

“If you don’t let go, you're going to be stuck up here all night, ” Marco called, his voice causing your (e/c) eyes to peak open. “Just reach out and let him free your hand, I promise you won't fall yoi.” 

Opening your eyes further, you shifted your gaze between the two commanders and your wrist. The bright red flesh glowing back at you while you tried to summon any courage you had left. You knew they were right, but that didn't make lifting your hand any easier of a task. Your trembling appendage, coming to firmly rest in the brunette's grip as he released the rope from its straggling hold on your skin and freed you from becoming further tangled in the rigging.

Yet just when you thought it was starting to get better, you felt the sway of the breeze under you and the slide of your legs against the wood. Your frame dropping for approximately two feet before landing against a solid and warm object with a thump. Said object being none other than Marco, who had managed to catch you in his wings when you started to lose your grip on the mast. Your limbs quickly securing themselves around his neck and torso while he reopened his arms to snag the next updraft and slow your fall. His powerful flames supporting both of your weights as he smiled almost smugly down at you. 

“Told you I wouldn't let you fall.” he grinned, your head shifting to look up at him in surprise. “I’ll get Vista to come up and help you finish Haruta, ” 

“Kay, see you on the ground. Don't drop her!” he called back, your grip tightening around the blonde as he started his descent. Both grinning at your response despite the fact you were obviously terrified. 

However, as the ground began to get slowly closer, you felt some of your initial anxiety wear off. Your eyes shifting between the earth and the blonde while he focused on finding a spot to land amongst the quickly gathering crowd. Everyone having either paused to watch to spectacle or moved to try and assist the two commanders. Marco’s eyes briefly catching yours before you, at last, felt the sand under your feet. The solid platform, melting even closer when you firmly planted your butt on the beach and let out a loud sigh.

Giving you a moment to breathe, Marco knelt beside you and allowed his flames to extinguish. His cerulean eyes carefully watching while your pulse became less erratic and your breathing stabilized. Your trembling hands quieting as the adrenaline eased out of your system and you relaxed. 

“I know you want to prove yourself, but maybe you should call it a day huh?... You alright yoi?” He asked after a few minutes, your head nodding in conjunction with his words. “Can you stand?”

“I think so,” You huffed, your hands going to brace your wobbly knees as you attempted to balance once more. Marco’s steady frame helping you to find your feet while a few of the crewmembers started to huddle around you. Their concern fading into laughter when it became more evident that you were alright. 

Not that they were worried or anything...

Taking a deep breath, you straighten your stance and took the water offered to you. Your nerves easing as the stress of the ordeal was replaced with the worry of others. Their apprehension quickly turning into questions about what had happened. The interrogation mostly handled by Izo while he tried to discern what had taken place. However, if you were honest, it wasn’t too hard to figure out what had transpired. 

In fact, if you hadn’t been standing on the ground or surrounded by a mass of other people, you were positive you would have swooned. Marco, in all his shirtless glistening glory, was still standing tantalizingly close to you. And if not for the near-death experience, you would have happily taken more time to admire the commander in his magnificent splendor. Not that he seemed to mind the occasional sideways glances you gave him.

“Honestly, if you had trouble with heights you should have said something. I never would have let you undertake something so trying.” Izo scolded, his arms crossing over his chest as you let your hands rise in surrender. 

“I didn’t think Haruta was serious about me going up, sorry.” You grinned sheepishly, Marco narrowing his eyes when he noticed the irritated ring of flesh on your wrist. The red outline glaring back at him while Izo continued to drill you about proper safety. 

“Humph, that’s no excuse for pushing your limits.” 

Rubbing the back of your neck, you guiltily shifted your gaze over the sand and back to Marco. The commander focused on the band of crimson wrapped around your arm as you tried to inch yourself a few feet away from Izo’s wrath. His cerulean orbs sliding from the injury to pierce through you with slight annoyance. Yeah, no way you were going to play that one off. 

“I know. I just wanted to make a good impression. Guess I messed even that up.” You admitted, the geisha shaking his head in irritation while the crowd laughed.

“Perhaps you should call it a day and head back to the village then? You’ve done enough here today, and Thatch should be awake by now.” Izo sighed, a good-natured smile falling over his face when you nodded your agreement. “You did well today, so thank you for your efforts. I'm not sure we would have gotten through that inventory quite as efficiently without you.”

Letting your eyes widen, you watched the group nod around you. Their faces turning up in bright smiles as the complement nestled itself warmly inside your chest and bubbled up into a charming pink blush.

“Still, do me a favor and give that no-good lazy cook of ours, our regards will yeh?” Izo smirked.

“Of course,” You grinned back eagerly, your frame already swaying between the bodies around you while to tried to make a break for the village. If you were lucky, you could get out of dodge before anything else happened, and they figured out the truth behind your mishap. Marco’s eyes digging into your back as you attempted to make a quick exit. The commander easily catching you just when you broke through the crowd of bodies to freedom.

“Hold it,” He huffed, his grip slipping from your forearm to your wrist where the rope burn bitterly continued to sting. Your eyes shifting from the injury to Marco while he frowned.

“It’s fine, I can put a salve on it when I get back-” you started, the blonde raising a brow while you attempted to reassure him. 

“No need, I can fix it.” He shrugged, confusion growing on your face as he skillfully let his flames run over your wrist. 

Your hand jolting in surprise before realization set in. The fire didn’t burn. In truth, it actually felt quite nice, as it healed the searing irritation the rope had caused. Its blue and yellow colors dancing across your widen eyes when the fear turned to fascination, and you leaned closer. 

Thinking back, you had noticed it before as well, the flames. His arms having been covered by the luminescent blaze when he helped you down from the mast. And just like then, you felt only the most comfortable of emotions emanating from the fire. As if a part of you was familiar with them, instinctually knowing that the flames couldn't, or more accurately wouldn't, hurt you. 

Which in hindsight, was strange considering your childhood dislike of unconfined fires. Still, despite the distrust you felt, it was like you were drawn to the blaze. It's light calling to a long-forgotten love of finding refuge and safety around the warmth of a campfire.

Watching you reposition yourself closer to his flames, Marco admired the way the colors swirled around your features. The blue reflecting sweetly in your (e/c) eyes as the pain faded from your wrist and the yellow highlighted your cheekbones. Strands of your (h/c) hair loosely gliding around the edge of your face while you looked on in awe. Your reaction, feeding into the knowing grin growing slowly over the blonde’s face. 

“There, how’s that yoi?” 

“Better, thank you.” You blushed, your eyes lifting from your wrist to the commander when you noticed just how close he was to you. “That's a pretty useful trick…” 

“Comes with the territory.” He smirked, his eyes tracing the flushed tint on your face as it deepened in hue at his voice. “It's not much use when it comes to illness, but it does have its perks yoi.” 

“I bet,” You smiled back, his words tickling across your arms in the form of goosebumps as you tried to keep your mind from wandering down a wonderfully dangerous path. “But I umm, I should be getting back to the village. Maybe sometime you could show me how it works?”

“Sure thing,” He smirked, his head giving a single nod before he gently relaxed his grip and allowed you to start on your way back down the beach again. Your eyes catching his when you nervously glanced over your shoulder a few yards away to see him grinning while he watched you. A bright smile growing on your face as you tried to ignore the butterflies brimming to life in your stomach.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12 

Chapter Warnings: Language & Fluff

(Y/n)= Your Name

(E/c) = Eye Color

(H/c) = Hair Color 

(H/l) = Hair Length

Making your way back to the village, you had scarcely managed to set three feet into Mrs. Huxley’s house before being attacked by a wave of overly excited energy. The exhilarated chatter steaming from the kitchen and flowing throughout the entirety of the home as several of the villagers bustled about with huge boxes of food. Their contents spread over every available surface while tables were set up in mass. Everyone busily dancing around one another with joyous vigor to set up for whatever was to come.

Pausing just inside the threshold, you observe the chaos as the extra bodies started to thin, and you found the outline of Abe in the living room. His eyes brimming with light while he laughed with one of the crew members helping to bring in some of the many boxes scattered around the building. The two waving you over when they noticed your bewildered, wide-eyed stare.

“(Y/n)! Just in time, a few of the cooks could use a hand in the kitchen if you have a second.” Abe called, his arm pulling you swiftly out of the way of the conga line of people entering and exiting the kitchen. The scent of yeast and sweet citrus wafting up to your nose as you were saved from being tripped over. 

“Uhh, sure… But what's going on here?” you inquired, the older man giving you a shrug. 

“A party, I guess. Our guest thought it would be a good idea to host one in exchange for our help repairing their ship, but unfortunately, with their star cook out of the picture, they could use all the help they can get.” Abe explained, his attention drawn back to the crew member he was talking to prior to your arrival. “Which reminds me, this is one of Thatch’s sue chefs. He was just asking about a few of the preparations for the banquet, and seeing as I can't make much more than porage myself. Why don't the two of you see what you can come up with while I help the others get the bonfire ready?” he grinned, your eyes still muddled with confusion as he took his leave. 

“Wait, Abe I-” Frowning for a second, you let a sigh escape your mouth while you shook your head. “I swear that man couldn't sit still if his life depended on it.” you puffed, the sue chef letting out a warm laugh before nodding his head in agreement.

“But credit where it is due, he does get quite a lot done for a man of his years.”

“You have no idea, ” you laughed, the two of you exchanging a look as the enthusiasm of the room continued to flourish. 

“So, what did you have in mind?” you inquired, your focus temporarily shifting from Thatch to the chef before you. The sandy-haired man in question, flashing you a grin before stealing you to help prepare the multitude of different dishes planned for the evening. Hours drifting by until the sun started to set over the horizon, and the beach was bathed in the rich hues of dusk. The reds and oranges creating an ambiance of serenity as the last of preparations were finished, and the remaining workforce wandered in from further down the coast.

Scanning the shoreline it was impossible not to be impressed by the amount of effort that had gone on in the last handful of hours. Every available table within the village seeming to have been dug out and set up with not only a plethora of different food but desserts. Each household contributing at least five or six dishes to the spread, if not more. And with the bonfire dutifully attended, to keep the meats warm, it was like walking into a scene from a book. Every person had an accomplished smile on their face and a cheerful laugh on their tongue. The whole atmosphere knocking Marco for a loop as he scanned the mass of bodies for a certain mess of (h/c) hair. After what had transpired earlier in the day, he was keen to check up on you. His search coming to an end when the sound of your laughter drew his gaze to the beautiful sight unfolding just outside of the main building. 

Doing your best to keep a tray of freshly baked bread steady, you let out a heart-melting giggle as two of Thatch’s sue chefs teasingly poked at your sides. Your (e/c) eyes half shut while you attempted to distance yourself from the attack without dropping the bread and still maintain your balance. The playful spectacle drawing a warm smile over Marco’s face before he moved to assist you. One hand swiftly taking the tray while the other helped to steady your squirming frame. 

“Hey! No fair Marco.” One of the cooks pouted, your giggles continuing to ring between the three of you as the commander took in the pale appearance of the men. “That brat got flour all over our station!”

“You threw an egg at me!” you retorted “It's not my fault you didn’t duck in time, you little weasels!” 

“You Brat!” the cooks grinned, reaching past Marco to try and grab at you, your form slipping inches from their grip while the blonde sighed. 

“Oi yoi! You’re going to make me drop the bread!” Marco smirked, his eyes drifting to where you hid behind him for cover from the two. “Alright enough, shouldn't you two be helping the others instead of picking fights?” he asked, a stern look washing over his face as the two ultimately relented in their attack. 

“Yeah, but-” they started.

“Then hop to it, and take this with you yoi.” He puffed, handing over the tray of bread before the two gave a bow and glared back at you. Your tongue sticking mockingly back at the two while you reveled in your triumph. To which, their faces brightened with smiles as they promised to get you back for your actions. The spirited threat bringing a grin to your face while you let out a chuckle and finally moved your body out from behind Marco's. A single one of his brows rising as he gave you a questioning look to your actions.  

“What? Obviously they started it!” you defended, the blonde shaking his head with an all too familiar smirk. 

“Do you ever not cause trouble?” he inquired, his eyes softening when you shook your head no in response. 

“It's part of the charm,” you smirked, your eyes following after the two cooks while you moved to return to whatever task you had been doing prior to your antics. “Besides, they had it coming. They shouldn’t start fights they can't win,” you said confidently, Marco keeping step behind you.

“I'll take it you're feeling better from this afternoon then yoi?” 

Pausing in your gate, you felt a subtle heat shift over your cheeks as the image of him standing on the beach flashed through your head. His half-lidded eyes, carefully tracking your steps while you headed back to the village. And the way his scent had clung to you for hours afterward? It had been utterly mortifying when one of the older villagers pointed out the earthy scent around your collar. Your face, burning as hot as the sun while you gently rubbed your fingers over the spot his flames had reached. Every hair, standing on end at the phantom feeling of his touch.

“Umm yeah, much thanks.” you blushed “Heights might not be my thing, but this, this I can do. Which reminds me, did Haruta manage to get the sails fixed? I didn't mean to cause him so much trouble earlier.” you frowned, the image of the young commander's worried face coming to mind. 

Shrugging, Marco did his best to think back on what had happened after you left the beach. 

“He and some of the others got it up, but it's nothing to worry about yoi. Everyone said you were a great help with inventory. Which seems to have shifted over here at some point?” he grinned, his eyes drifting over the tables of food. 

“Oh, yeah. Whitebeard decided to throw a banquet, so feel free to help yourself. The main meal started a little while ago when the first group came back from the ship. Not that you could tell by the amount of food there is, but the cooks assured us nothing would go to waste.” you commented, moving around the blonde to help one of the villagers carrying several platters of cut meats. 

“What about you? Stopped to eat yet?” he inquired, your head shaking in answer as you set out the platters on one of the few open spaces left on the many tables. 

“No, not yet. I wanted to make sure everyone else got something first.” you grinned, your conversation coming to a halt when a familiar arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you close. 

“Awesome! Then come eat with us (Y/n)!” Ace beamed, his smile reflected on the faces of a few of the crew members you had met earlier in the day. Their eyes brimming with excitement as you were dragged away without the courtesy of being able to answer first. Your eyes glancing back to Marco apologetically before you once again vanished into the waves of laughter. The sight of your good-natured smirk and gracious teasing a commonplace for the rest of the evening while the festivities took place. 

In fact, it was only after hours of joking and storytelling that you began to realize how at home you had been feeling since this afternoon. 

At first, it had been when Izo scolded Ace for scaring a few of the villagers with his sudden sleeping spell, and then later, it had been with Whitebeard. The captain capturing your focus with tall tales of faraway lands and his life adventure to find himself a family. His heartwarming stories and embarrassing doting helping to alter the previous harsh notion you had of him in your mind. The sentiment further softening when Abe joined the conversation and started up a round of mortifyingly cute baby stories. Many of which had crew members and villagers alike blushing with humble humiliation. 

Glancing around the room, you took note of the homely atmosphere. Every face pulled tight with laughter, and each heart filled with cheer. The peaceful aura, rich with the feeling of community and family as everyone came together to enjoy one another's company. The beach and main house, overflowing with a light and harmony that you hadn't seen since your last New Year with… 

Blinking through the sudden loss, you felt the edge of your smile soften at the memories. The fondness of this moment bringing you back to a time when your world was at its happiest. A time when every day was abundant in love and learning. Lazy days spent drying herbs in the shade of the trees and cold winter nights huddled around the fire reading books. Back when you felt truly safe and at home in the presence of another. 

Searching the crowd, you knew you wouldn't find him. You knew many years ago that you would never again feel the sense of ease that came with being able to pick his smile out of a gathering. Yet, when your eyes landed on the grinning face of a particular blonde, you couldn't help but feel that comfort once again wash over you. His blue eyes drawing you in, while his smile flashed you back to the moment you had opened your door to his surprised face. The last few days, bringing to life a familiar feeling in your chest. One you had known but was still somewhat new. And as if sensing your gaze, the commander let out a laugh that resonated vibrantly throughout the room. The sound settling comfortably over your heart before your focus was dragged away by a subtle movement at the back corner of the house. 

Taking note of the tired eyes gently gazing out of the backroom, you felt your smile soften. The commotion having finally awakened the one member of the party that was still missing. His scared face, watching peacefully from his bed where he listened to the joyous sounds of the family and chuckled at the stories he could overhear. 

Excusing yourself to make a small plate of food, you made your way through the crowd of people and back to where Thatch and been watching quietly from afar. His weary frame, shifting to sit up in greeting while Abe’s words faded into the background and you partially shut the door behind you. Your hand automatically going to his forehead to check his temp, before giving him the plate with a grin. 

“You seem to be doing better. How are you feeling?” You inquired, the cook flashing you a bright grin as he eyed the food. 

“Good, that extra sleep was just what the doctor ordered.” Thatch smirked. “And it doesn’t hurt that I’m being spoiled with dinner in bed served by a beautiful angel.” He teased, a single wink tossed in your direction while he took a bite and let out an approving hum. “Hmm, well worth the wait.” 

“Pfft, I’m glad you like it. Especially since I’ve been told, more than once tonight, that it's nothing compared to what you can make.” You chuckled, moving to sit at the side of the bed so you could check his pulse. 

“Oh? And who told you that?” Thatch huffed. “As far as I’ve seen, none of that lot could do any better. Besides, I have a few years on you when it comes to experience.” He smirked, his arm receiving a firm flick for his words. 

“Honestly! Do all of your conversations involve flirting with people, or am I the exception? I feel bad for all the broken hearts out there, seeing as your sweet nothings are wasted on me.” You grinned, your smile growing when the brunette let out a hearty laugh. His chest rising without fail as, for the first time in the last two days, he laughed without coughing. 

“Wasted? My dear las, nothing is ever wasted when it brings about a smile like that.” Thatch cooed, your head shaking despite the increasing tightness of your cheeks. If he kept this up, your face muscles were going to get sore. 

“You are impossible. Makes me wonder how they put up with you.” You shot back.

“It's a give and take,” Thatch mused, his eyes locking to yours until you were forced to duck away due to the change in color of your cheeks. 

“Ah, well… I should be going. You seem to be on the mend, but I wanted to check in since I got pulled away before.” You blushed. 

“It's alright, it seems like quite the party. Wish I could have helped you out with the preparations.” He grinned, your hand giving his a squeeze at the longing that reflected in his eyes when he turned his gaze to the door. 

“Maybe you can help with the next one.” You suggested. “That is, if you and your crazy bunch don’t mind having another one before you leave.”

“Hmm, I’m sure I could help squeeze one in before we take off. That is if you agree to lend a hand.” He proposed. 

“If I can find the time,” You laughed. “I know it may seem like you are my only patient, but I do have other people to tend to here. You won't always have my undivided attention.” 

“Darn, and here I was looking forward to being able to steal you away from my brothers for a bit. But I guess I should have known better, especially with the way a few of them look at you.” He teased, the flush on your face darkening in hue. 

“W.what!-” You stuttered. 

“Oh come on now sweetness, don’t tell me you didn’t notice?” Thatch grinned, his brows furrowing suggestively while he continued. “Just because I’m recovering my strength, doesn’t mean I can't see what is going on outside my door. Between the laughter and flirting, it’s a wonder our residential birdbrain hasn’t asked you to join us yet.” 

Blinking wildly at the cook, it felt like someone had lit a fire under your skin. The red of your blush easily reaching to your ears as your brain momentarily short-circuited. 

“I can assure you, I have no idea what you are talking about. Perhaps I was too quick to dismiss that there wouldn’t be any lasting effects from your fever.” You puffed, your head shaking in denial while the cook chuckled. 

“Deny it if you like, but I’ve been around long enough to recognize what a smile like that means. And while I don’t get to see it very often when it comes to Marco, I couldn’t be more approving of his pick.” Thatch smirked, his eyes meeting yours as you stared in disbelief. 

“I really don’t-” You started before Thatch cut in. 

“It's okay, you don’t have to believe me. But watching you out there, smiling with him, laughing at everyone’s jokes, and humoring Pop’s stories, it's like you belong with us… Tell me you can at least feel that? Because the warmth and the light that comes off you when you relax around them, it's like you are a part of our puzzle that even I didn’t know was missing… a part of the family. You just seem to fit.” He whispered, the softness of his tone filling your heart with a wave of emotion as you gazed widely into the warmth of his smile. Every hair on your arms standing on end when his hand gently tightened around your wrist. 

“I-” 

Pulling your hand back, you moved to stand while his words sunk in, and a bitter feeling rose in your chest. Conflict filling your eyes as Thatch shifted his plate and tossed his legs over the side of the bed. His hand, coming to grasp yours before you could make it too far from him to reach. 

“Hey, look I’m sorry (Y/n),” He started, your (e/c) orbs falling back to the commander as he effectively put a stop to your movements. “ I don’t mean to push.”

Taking a breath, you felt a small smile pull at the corners of your lips despite the chaos running in your mind. The sad expression on the cook’s face reminding you of a child who had just been scolded for running through the house in muddy shoes. It wasn’t so much the shame of making a mess that seemed to bother him, but the knowledge that he had made a mess, to begin with. The sentiment reaching you through the almost fragile way his hand clung to yours. 

“It's alright, I’d be lying if I said you were wrong.” You confessed, allowing yourself to be pulled back to the bed so that you could sit beside him. “It's been a long time since I’ve felt so at ease around a group of people. I umm, I forgot what that felt like.” 

“You really do shine sweetness, and not just when you turn into a magical bird.” He joked, the two of you laughing before he rubbed a few comforting circles over the back of your hand with his thumb. “I know it's not right of me to just dump all that on you, but I’d be a fool not to say something when you so obviously seem to flourish around those knuckleheads.” 

Feeling your gaze soften, you let out a gentle sigh as your eyes drifted from Thatch to the sound of the happy banter filtering in through the door, and then back to where his hand rested atop of yours. The fragileness of the moment delicately hanging in the stillness while the two of you exchanged a series of knowing looks. His fingers squeezing yours lightly before a yawn slipped from his lips. He might be on the mend, but that didn't mean that he still had a lot of strength to recover from his ordeal. And with that in mind, you let your smile grow into a good-natured grin. Your body moving to help lay the cook back on the bed so he could rest further. 

“Alright, that's enough excitement from you tonight. You should get some more rest,” you smirked, the light from the door reflecting warmly over the exhaustion seeping into the brunette's features. 

“Feels like all I've been doing is sleeping, ” he complained. “It's going to be rough getting back into the swing of things when this is over.” 

“Yeah, but at the very least, you'll have the support of the others. I'm sure your brothers will force you to take it easy at the start.” you chuckled “And besides, your body needs the rest. It's been fighting day and night for close to a month. Can you really blame it for wanting as many extra hours of sleep as it can get?” 

“I suppose not. Still, doesn't make it any easier, but when you put it like that. I guess I'll have to let it slide.” he smirked back, his hand giving yours another squeeze. On which you returned in kind before checking his temperature just to be sure. The cool skin, reassuring you that he would rest peacefully throughout the rest of the night. 

“Good, now get some sleep, I'll see you in the morning.” you smiled, reaching for the half-eaten plate of food while Thatch gazed up at you. 

“Sure thing sweetness, but (Y/n)...” he started, the shift in his tone grabbing your attention as you made your way for the door. “Please, think about it… If there is one thing I've learned, it's that life is too short not to take the jump. You’ll always have a place with our family regardless, but speaking on behalf of everyone you touch, we would love to have you.”

Blinking back at the cook, you felt the air catch in your throat at the notion he put forward. His words bringing to life a whirlwind of wistful hope inside your chest that battled heavily with a deeply seeded sense of duty. The conflict written bluntly across your face as you nodded your head with a bittersweet smile.

“I will, ” you promised, your eyes tracking the serenity in the commander’s eyes before you quietly shut his door and allowed him to rest. His words tightening the vice around your heart as you quickly made for the kitchen. The plate of food long forgotten while you made for the exit. Your hurried movements traced by a certain pair of cerulean eyes as you took your leave from the cheerful gathering and vanished up the mountain into the night. The glow of the moon, lighting the well-traveled path and allowing for the blonde to easily follow after your retreating form. His own body stopping once to drink in the happy faces around him before proceeding up the trail after you. 

Hearing Thatch’s words echo through your mind, you couldn't help but let your thoughts wander. Your feet carrying you silently over the moon-bathed earth until you came to a familiar clearing within the forest. The vegetation receding as the ground subsided into a sudden stop against the face of a cliff and the trees opened into a window that overlooked the shoreline below. Light from the moon reflecting across the water while you took a seat with your legs dangling just off the edge of the overhang. 

Letting out a sigh, you felt the swirl of the emotions running wild in your chest. The mixture of serenity and uncertainty drawing the majority of your focus to the far horizon as you attempted to puzzle through the conflict you felt. Pressure building behind your eyes until your lips dipped into a confused frown. 

...Why? 

Why was it that every time you felt some level of peace, something always came along to shatter it? How had Thatch told you such bitter-sweet things so easily!? What in the world were you supposed to do with the information now that you had it? He couldn't honestly think you were just going to pack up and abandon the only home you've ever known, did he? And for what? So that you could run away with a random group of pirates you had just met? Well no sir, not you! There was no way you were going to let that sweet-talking fool get under your skin with his ‘You are a piece of our puzzle I didn't even know was missing’ crap. It wasn't like you overly cared for the brutes anyway. So no way were you just going to sit by and let his words get to you! But then why, why did it feel like there was a vice squeezing around your heart? 

‘I've been around long enough to recognize what a smile like that means.’

Shaking your head, you tried to dislodge Thatch’s voice from your brain. A single tear slipping from your (e/c) orbs as the emotions started to overwhelm you. 

Why couldn't they have just been like every other cold-hearted jerk you had met in life? Why had they made it so easy to love them? … Why? 

Watching the reflection of the moon in the tear that slipped from your eyes, Marco felt his body moving of its own accord. The commander sliding from his spot leaning against one of the trees bordering the clearing and making his way into your peripheral sightline. Your body tensing and instinctively jolting away from the edge when his presence became known. Yet upon recognition of the blonde, your fear easily faded into a fake smile. The sight of it causing Marco to quirk a brow while he melted out of the shade cast by the treeline.

“You alright? Didn't mean to scare you yoi.” He greeted, the warm aura from dinner still surrounding him as he started to close the distance between you. 

“Yeah, I just didn't see you.” you smiled, your body shifting a few more inches from the edge as you turned so you were better facing the blonde. 

“You know for someone who turns into a bird, you don’t seem to do very well with heights,” Marco smirked, the phoenix making his way across the small clearing to join you in gazing over the cliff’s edge. 

“Humph, what gave it away?” You shot back, your body shifting to lean back as an invitation for him to join you. 

“The shaking, look of terror, that piercing yelp when you slipped from the-” He started, his leg receiving a firm nudge in retaliation while he moved to settle beside you on the overhang. 

“Okay! I get it!” You puffed, his smirk only growing as warmth spread over your cheeks in a rosy tint. “You don’t have to be so mean about it, you know.” 

“I know yoi, but where's the fun in that?” He grinned, his eyes shifting leisurely over your highlighted features before turning to gaze out at the starry horizon. His body dropping comfortably in the bed of grass while he reveled in his smugness. 

“Pfft, lousy pirate.” You mused, your (e/c) orbs also moving to count the constellations above you. “So what brings you out here? I figured you would have stayed behind to make sure that captain of yours didn't drink his weight in sake. Did you get bored or something?” you inquired. 

“Nah, just got a little loud, and when you took off after talking to Thatch I figured the bone head might have said something to upset you yoi,” Marco answered, his honesty deepening the color of your blush.

“So, you were worried about me?” you asked, your eyes shifting from the stars to the blonde.

“That's alright, isn't it yoi?” he questioned back, the red hue of your face captivating his attention while you nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and nodded. Every movement mesmerizing to the commander as the light of the moon continued to amplify the beauty of your features.

“Umm-hmm, ” you hummed, your gaze turning back to the stars as you attempted to hide the happiness that filtered over your face at his words. His cerulean orbs lingering on your frame a minute longer before also turning his focus back to the inky skies. 

Allowing the silence to comfortably drift between you, you watched the heavens glisten in the light of the full moon. Minutes coasting by until your voice broke the tranquility of the night. The small sound almost drowned out by the breeze, given how gentle it was. Yet, it settled comfortably within the blonde’s ears nonetheless. 

“...Thank you, by the way.” You mumbled softly, your gaze unmoving as you continued to observe the stars. Their light shimmering within your eyes before you plunged them into the abyss of the waves below. The melancholy shift in your body language reflected like a mirror within the darkness of the sea. 

“You’re welcome,” Marco hummed back, his cerulean orbs noting the subtle change while you frowned. 

“No, I mean for everything, today. I know I haven’t exactly been the easiest of people to get along with. But seeing you all there, eating and laughing at dinner...” You pined wistfully. “It… it felt like, family…” 

Shifting his elbows under him, Marco watched the emotions that toiled in the gloom of your (e/c) eyes. Longing, regret, and remembrance, clouding your vision while you pressed on. Your words fragile and unguarded as the walls around your heart lessened enough for him to glimpse the compassionate soul underneath. 

“I can’t remember the last time they-...that I've felt that safe and at home.” You confessed, the endearment of your words speaking well beyond the events of the evening. Every subtle shift in your gaze, and nervous twitch in your fingers, traced by the eyes of the blonde next to you. His calming aura reaching out to you as he sat up enough to meet your eyes and smile reassuringly back at you. Your own lips pulling comfortably into a timid grin while he gave you his full attention.

“...You’re welcome (Y/n).” He repeated, the phrase washing over you with tender warmth. 

Leaning ever so slightly into the comfort, you caught yourself being drawn into the moment as the moon bathed you in romantic silver hues. Marco mimicking your tenuous movements inch for inch until you let out a shy puff of air and ducked your head away. Your bottom lip being pulled between your teeth while you tried to nervously play off your actions. 

“Sorry… I think the moon is playing tricks with me.” You grinned, the blonde lifting a single brow before shrugging off your hesitance. His easy-going smile, reassuring you that you hadn’t just killed the serenity of the atmosphere. 

“Not at all yoi.” He smirked, allowing you to reclaim your space with ease. “The night often plays dangerous games on the unexpected, but that’s half the fun.”

Tilting your head, you opened your mouth to inquire as to what he meant, when you found yourself faced with Marco’s outstretched hand. His half-lidded eyes gazing down at you expectantly while you paused. 

What was he up to? 

Watching as you held yourself back, Marco surveyed the curiosity in your (e/c) orbs. Your hand hovering just out of reach as you tried to decided on what to do. Did you trust him to follow through with whatever it was he was planning, or would you reject his invitation? 

Yet as he stood waiting, your hand eventually made its way into his while he helped you to stand. The two of you locking eyes before he turned to the overhang and smirked. His intentions becoming clear as he stood with his back to the sky. The light from the moon surrounding him in a brilliant silver halo. 

“What are you doing?” 

“What do you think I’m doing yoi?” 

Chuckling, you shook your head and took a step back. A single finger rising to try and wave off the notion sitting between the two of you. 

“Oh no, once was enough for me.” You stated, leaning back when he stretched his hand closer. 

“Come on (Y/n), trust me. Let me show you what flying really is.” He tried, his voice gentle and encouraging as you regarded him. Your eyes shifting between him and the skies before your arms smugly crossed your chest. 

“I know what flying is, thank you. And the answer is still no.” You said firmly, Marco’s smile turning ever so slightly impish in reply. 

“Okay, suit yourself. Probably better if we don’t and just call it a night yoi. I’m not sure I would want to be upstaged either.” He goated, his smirk growing when you narrowed your eyes back at him. 

“You wouldn’t upstage me! But you are wrong in thinking I’m going to pick up that weak bait.” You defended, Marco lifting his hands in surrender. 

“Not trying to bait you. Just saying that with your fear, it’s unlikely that you would be able to keep up yoi.” He corrected, your mouth sitting agape as you huffed back at him. 

“For your information, I happen to be a great flyer!” You retorted, Marco narrowing his gaze tauntingly as he took a step back towards the edge of the cliff. 

“Well, if you’re so certain that I wouldn’t fly circles around you, prove it.” He grinned, your body language teetering between playful and fearful. “...I won’t let you fall yoi.” He promised, waiting a moment longer before allowing his body to shift into flames. 

Large wings spreading over the clearing as you gazed on in wonder. The beauty of his phoenix form both captivating your attention and enticing you to follow his lead. Your breath catching when he lifted into the air and teasingly spun for you. Every fiber of your being begging to take flight after the commander as if instinct itself was pulling you to him. 

'...life is too short not to take the jump.'

Watching Marco all but dance in the sky, you noticed the glow of your devil fruit before you felt it. Your light drawing the phoenix in as he once more extended a talon to you. An open invitation to cast your fears aside, and join him…

Chapter Text

Chapter 13

Chapter Warnings: Language & Fluff

(Y/n)= Your Name

(E/c) = Eye Color

(H/c) = Hair Color 

(H/l) = Hair Length

It was so soft and warm, like the mist blowing off the ocean on a summer's day. The air similar to the feeling of silk under your feathers as your wings caught the next updraft and brought you higher into the sky. Miles of earth falling away under you while you gave a couple of steady flaps to help balance yourself in the evening breeze. 

Around you, the nighttime sparked to life with the glow of the moon. Its ebony shadows playfully drawing one's attention and further highlighting the hue of the canopy you now drifted over. While below you, the azure glow of a certain commander rivaled against the beauty of the evening’s elegance. His wings bringing him to your side as he watched the breathtaking display of your devil fruit. The shimmering glow of your ivory feathers and illuminated (e/c) eyes far out-competing the magnificence of even the moon. 

Closing your eyes, you did your best to adjust to the feeling of the air without looking down. The small tendril of fear quickly replaced with curiosity when a wave of warmth washed over your side. Your gaze shifting to Marco while his flames licked at the feathers of your wings. His eyes lazily meeting yours before he gave a powerful flap and ascended over you with a mischievous wink. The speed of his strength allowing him to weave left and right as the moon’s light danced over his form. His wings sturdy and resilient with the years of practice he no doubtably had, while each subtle movement fed elegantly into his aerial display.

Blinking at the sight, you felt the equivalent of a smile pull over your features as you quickly gave chase after the cheeky commander. The flames of his head crest falling prey to your rebuttal when you put on a burst of speed to match his. His wings dipping to roll away while you followed suit in an attempt to keep pace. Feathers fluttering in the breeze until the phoenix had the audacity to flip on his back and grab your talons. His added weight easily pulling you down a few feet with an alarmed squeak. 

Releasing his hold, Marco marveled at the way you ruffled your feather and corrected your flight pattern. The anger of your narrowed gaze letting him know that he had succeeded in throwing you off guard despite the fact you effortlessly caught yourself. For someone with issues dealing with heights, you truly did fly like you had been doing it for years. Yet, he had to wonder just how good you really were. 

Shaking your feathers flat again, you were about to give the commander a piece of your mind when, to your amazement, he started to ascend again. His powerful wings carrying him higher before he dipped and picked up enough speed to circle your body. The man actually flying rings around you while you slowed your flapping to keep from flying into him. His face filled with content and smugness as he showed off his skills with ease. The aviary display ending with him at your side with a look that could only be akin to that of the cat who had caught the canary. Pride radiating through his wingtips while you rolled your eyes at his extravagant splendor. Really, what was with this man? At this rate, he would give Thatch a good run for his money. 

Yet, not one to back down from a challenge, you scooped your feathers and let gravity take you. Your body dropping in a spiral as you tucked your wings close and then loosed them on a powerful updraft. The sudden uptick of the wind helping your lightweight frame torpedo past the commander before you fully extended your appendages in front of the moon. Silver light enhancing the glory of your heavenly glow while the stars sparkled around you in a way that would have made even the angels jealous. Your graceful dance and natural beauty captivating the blonde until you, at last, drifted back to his side with your own smug look. Satisfaction glistening in your eyes while the commander stared fondly back at you. The unexpected warmth of his emotions causing heat to rise in your cheeks as you ducked your head to break his gaze. Not that he could see the blush given your feathers, thank the gods. But despite that fact, the admiration you had seen in his eyes still felt good in your chest. Your poor heart working double-time with a single look. 

Allowing a moment of stillness, Marco took comfort in simply flying next to you. Your wings flapping in time with his, while he watched you duck your head from his gaze. Only to timidly glance back to see if he was still looking, which he was. Not that the night wasn't beautiful or that he should probably be watching where he was going. It was just that nothing else compared at the moment to seeing you in your element. Your composure and elegance, speaking to your comfort with flying despite your fear of heights. A fact that still puzzled him, given the amount of control you had over your fully transformed form. The relaxation in your features and blissful expressions at feeling the air glide under your wings more than enough evidence for him to conclude you at least felt safe flying. So then why the fear of being high up? 

Focusing his eyes, Marco at last noticed the slight notch in your feathers over your shoulder as you flapped. The small gap being home to a peculiar scar with ragged edges and a smooth surface. As if at some point, you had managed to impale yourself on a tiny spear. The rims being far too rough to have been from a bullet and yet not big enough for him to think it may have come from some sort of sword. So then, what was it? And why did it bother him? 

Then again, why did everything about you seem to run wild in his mind? The list of questions only seeming to grow with every moment he spent around you. Your endless mystery drawing him closer than he would like to admit. Still, perhaps that was all a part of the journey of getting to know the paradox that was you. 

Lost in his thoughts, Marco allowed his mind to venture through the different hypotheses behind your scar for a moment longer before turning his attention back to the source of his focus. Your eyes concentrating over the horizon as you took in the beauty of the nighttime, and enjoyed the warmth of your company. The blonde easily keeping pace when you both descended over an opening in the canopy to the shoreline below. His eyes sparkling with a new wave of mischief as you weaved through the fading treeline and out over the vast stretch of sand that circled the island. Your gaze easily picking up on the subtle change moments prior to the phoenix shifting his flight pattern to take him over the water. The drafts caused by the waves crashing along the shore, providing him with a small burst of wind on which he could dance.

His body twirling between the coils of the water like a flag in the breeze. Every flap perfectly timed to ensure he kept just far enough away from the ocean’s surface that he didn't have to worry about nullifying his devil fruit. His expert execution, liting a fire of excitement in your chest as you quickly followed suit. Your body coming to mirror his while the two of you played tag between the waves. Both of you swerving just close enough to tap the wingtips of the other before pulling apart and rising over the top curl of the next wave. Joy emitting from every feather when you finally pulled up and let out a happy cooing sound. The light of your devil fruit multiplying like a beacon while you gained altitude beside the blonde. Marco following every movement with wonder-struck eyes. Gods, you were beautiful. 

Coming to hover over the ocean, you let your eyes fall to the man beside you. His blue flames matching yours while you both took a second to catch your breath. Not that Marco was tired exactly, but he could see that the extended midnight flight was starting to take its toll on you. After helping the crew, cooking with the sue chefs, and entertaining his antics, Marco could respect the energy it took to keep pushing on late into the evening. The adorable squint of your eyes shutting while you reluctantly let out a yawn, further melting his heart. 

Doing your best to shake the tiredness from your feathers, you once again found yourself face to face with soft blue eyes. Your (e/c) gaze meeting his before shifting behind Marco to the far horizon. The movement of the ever-present fog bank over the surrounding barrier reef, capturing your focus as you tried to peer through it. Its layers of low-hanging clouds sending a quiver through your feathers with the way it slid ominously over the waves below. 

Yet looking to the stars and the moon, you felt the feeling fade in favor of the warmth you felt under you. Marco’s flames tickling at your belly as he skillfully moved to perch you on his shoulders and let you rest your wings. His head twisting back with a smile when you folded your wings and settled in gratefully. Every inch of his fire encasing you in security while he started to glide through the air again. The Phoenix dipping lower so that he could fly you around the island without fighting the headwinds of the higher altitudes. His wings evening out a few meters over the surface of the water. 

Leaning close to the blonde, you let your devil fruit fade until you could gently wrap your arms around the commander’s neck. The feeling of his flames even smoother against your skin than under your feathers. Not that both didn't feel amazingly calming and reassuring. Almost like the sensation of being wrapped in a blanket on a cold night. 

Feeling your weight change, Marco reviled in the sensation of your fingers resting just above his jolly roger. Your arms having come to lay around his neck while he carried you through the moonlight. Every inch of the contact sending sparks through his chest as he tried to focus more on the flight path ahead, and not the way your chest pressed against his back when you breathed. The heat from your body igniting a fever in his mind with each exhale and content sigh. Your scent wafting to his nose when you nestled your head between his shoulder blades and listened to the steady flap of his wings. The seconds ticking by wondrously slow while you enjoyed the hush of the night. Both blissfully unaware of the ill-intentioned gaze that trailed after your retreating forms. The Vice-Admiral lowering his scope with a determined grin. 

Watching from the safety of the fog bank, Doberman let out a low chuckle at the sight of the two of you. Your unforgettable display, replying in the back of his mind with twisted glee at having finally having found such a lost treasure. After so many years, who would have thought such a highly sought-after target would reappear? And in such a place as this? It was almost too easy. 

Turning to the lieutenant at his side, Doberman wasted no time in putting his plans into action. His original quarry now explaining to accommodate the change in agendas. 

“Make a call to HQ… Tell them I've managed to once again locate Whitebeard and his crew. Oh, and inform them I finally found the Caladrius.” 

“The what sir?” the lieutenant inquired, his eyes scanning the shoreline in confusion. 

“That white bird… She’s been on our watch list for a while.” Doberman smirked, his eyes narrowing menacingly as both you and Marco vanished around the natural bend of the island. “She was presumed dead some years ago, but it seems our reports will need adjusting.” 

Frowning, the man glanced to those around him, a few shrugging before he found himself lifted off the deck by the collar of his shirt. The admiral glaring down at the man in anger. 

“Do as you are told sailor!”

“Y.yes, sir! Right away sir!” he stammered, Doberman releasing the man as he scrambled off the upper deck and into the galley to relay the information to HQ. One of the deckhands coming to stand beside the admiral as he continued to glare out at the water. 

“Sir, if you don't mind me asking. Why is this Caladrius so important? Shouldn't reprimanding Whitebeard take priority?” 

“Humph, one would think. However, unlike the rest of you, I can recall a time when that nightmare ran wild on the seas. She might not look like much, but that monster has a death toll behind her that rivals even that of the Donquixote group.” Doberman sneered, the man beside him paling at the thought. 

“B.but she's just one person.”

“Doesn't matter...that devil fruit of hers. It once brought about the suffering and slow devastation of whole villages. Entire convoys of ships succumbed to her ruthlessness when she ran free…”

Turning their eyes to the island beyond the fog, an eerie silence fell over the vessel. Each marine feeling a ghostly chill race over their spins while they stood unmoving. Dread seeping into their bones at the mere idea of what once was. 

Lifting further into the air, Marco allowed his wings to carry him higher as he shifted to fly over the island instead of around it. His eyes scanning the canopy for the familiar trail that led back to your hobbit hole of a home. Your own eyes fluttering open at the sudden change in his flight pattern. 

“Hmm, it's a little more to the left.” you yawned, one of your hands loosening its grip to help correct his path. The phoenix dipping his wings enough to follow your instructions before he felt you nuzzle back into the comfort of his flames. His half-lidded gaze, momentarily drifting back to your peaceful features as you once more made yourself comfortable. What he wouldn't give to keep you there just a moment longer. But alas, all good things came to an end at some point, and as your home came into view, Marco knew this was one of those ends. 

Slowing his pace, the blonde effortlessly came to a stop atop the patch of grass that made up the roof of your house. Your body lazily sliding from its spot on his back when the world finally came to a standstill underneath your feet, and you could give a long overdue stretch without the fear of falling into the ocean. The hem of your shirt lifting just high enough for the blonde to capture a glimpse of your tempting curves before you gave him your full attention. His body melting back into its human form to match your own with a good-natured smile.

“How are you feeling yoi?” 

“Hmm, pretty good. Those flames of yours really are something, so relaxing.” you mumbled, finishing your stretch with a soft grin. 

“Told you they have their perks,” he smirked, rolling his shoulders a few times to work out any remaining tension. 

“God, you weren't kidding! I wouldn't mind having something like that around more often. I can't imagine how great that feels on bad joints or stiff muscles.” you praised, the blonde smiling at your words with mischief.

“I've been told I give killer massages, but you know, if you want me around more, all you need to do is ask yoi.” he teased, your face flushing as he turned your words against you. 

“Haha, you know what I meant.” you puffed. “Still, thank you for tonight. I figured you could fly well, but I didn't think that you would be that good. I can't remember the last time I met someone who could match my skills.” you confessed. “Even if you were mostly just showing off.”

“Showing off?” Marco smirked. “I was simply demonstrating my abilities, it's not my fault you couldn’t keep up yoi.” 

“Couldn’t keep- Oh, okay you know what?! No, I take it all back, you show pony.” You scuffed, the blonde letting out a laugh while you playful pouted back at him. 

“Ouch, name-calling now are we? You wound me.” He grinned, moving closer as you half-heartedly glared at him. “And here I thought we were having such a lovely evening. Or is it that you can’t handle the truth, yoi?” he joked, his hands coming to poke gently at your sides as you swatted back at him.

“You pompous peacock!”

“Ooof, another one. Is there no end to your mistreatment?” He smirked. “To think I carried you halfway around the island, only to be insulted.” 

“Marco!” you laughed, finally managing to capture his tickling hands in yours with a fierce determination. The air between you, heavy with good-hearted intentions and thrilling anticipation.

Putting an end to his antics, you smiled gently back at the warm look on the commander’s face. His half-lidded eyes inviting you once more to dance with him. The temptation almost daring you to take another jump and give into the flow of the night. Yet, this time when the speckles of moonlight filtered through the trees you didn't hesitate in pulling back. His lips softly melding to yours as you let his arms wrap around your waist in a tender embrace. One of his hands coming to comfortably rest against your cheek and keep you in place. The heat of his kiss gushing brightly across your face when he pulled back so you could let out the breath you were holding. 

“…you were right.” you puffed lightly, the frantic beat of your heart making the hairs on your arms stand on end. 

“Oh yoi?” Maro inquired, his eyes drifting between your flushed gaze and enticing lips. 

“That is a very dangerous game for the moon to play.” 

“Dangerous, indeed.” He smirked, leaning closer for a moment before you turned your head and took a step back. “Hmm, still worth the risk in the end though yoi.” 

Feeling your blush spread, you couldn’t help rolling your eyes at his words. Every ounce of your willpower wanting to shatter, if only to feel the jolt of lightning from his lips once more. 

“So worth it…but I'm afraid if I play anymore tonight, I may find myself in hazardous waters. Besides, if anything, this evening has shown me that I still have a lot to learn when it comes to you.” You grinned, taking your chance to put some distance between you and the blonde as you moved towards your door. 

“I’d be happy to teach you anything you want to know yoi.” He said softly, his words sending a shiver through your core at the implications. 

“Careful, teach me too well and I’ll be the one flying circles around you next time.” you teased, your body turning to face his once you reached your door. 

Tensing at the look in his eyes, you felt your breath hitch as Marco stooped into the doorway and blocked your exit. One hand resting on the door behind you and the other coming to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Everything coming to a sudden stop as he hovered just inches away from your touch. 

“I think we both know you’re already flying rings around me in the ways that count beautiful.” He mused, his lips once more igniting your veins as he placed a single kiss to your burning forehead. Your eyes squinting shut before opening halfway to longingly match his hooded gaze. The two of you regarding one another before you let out a giggle at his actions. Honestly, what was this? Some kind of cheesy romance story?

Pulling back, Marco lovingly listened to the happiness that sang from your mouth. Your laughter making him scuff playfully while you waved him off in good nature. His smile mirroring yours when you got the chuckle out of your system and lifted a hand to his cheek. Your body moving to return his teasing by placing your own kiss on his cheek with uncharacteristic charm and grace. 

“You really are something else…” 

“I try.” he joked, adoring the way your (e/c) eyes shimmered back at him. 

“Pfft, are all pirates this hopeless?” you grinned, your lips softening into a smile as you opened your door and gazed back at the man behind you. Everything about him challenging what you had always known, and effortlessly winning. 

“Pretty much, but that’s part of the charm yoi,” Marco answered, taking a step back while you paused in the entryway of your home. 

“Hmm, well at least you can admit it. Good night Marco, and again, thank you,” you said gently. 

“Good night, (Y/n).” 

Watching the warmth of the smile that spread over your face at hearing him say your name, Marco felt something tighten in his chest as you closed the door. The feeling familiar in many ways, and yet completely new while your smile replayed in his mind. 

…Yeah, he was so screwed…

Chapter Text

Chapter 14 

Chapter Warnings: None.

(Y/n)= Your Name

(E/c) = Eye Color

(H/c) = Hair Color 

(H/l) = Hair Length

Today was the day! And as he watched you and Ace fight to keep Thatch balanced, Marco had to admit he was impressed by your determination. All week you had been working with the cook to try and rebuild the muscle he lost during his month-long battle with illness. Your efforts finally seeming to pay off as the commander took his first steps out of Mrs. Huxley’s house and onto the sandy ground of the beach. Ace struggling to set a steady pace for his brother on the uneven earth while your arms held strong and kept the brunette upright. 

Observing your troubles, Marco momentarily forgot about the reports sitting on the desk below him in favor of seeing you toiling over his sibling. Thatch at last appearing to get his feet under him before leaning on the edge of the house and releasing you from his weight. His legs giving an uncertain shake as he attempted to take the next few steps on his own.

Ace also bowing out from holding the cook in favor of spouting some comment that had the three of you laughing warmly while Marco took in the sight. The picture before him, one he never thought he would get to see again, especially when it came to Thatch. 

They had gotten lucky when it came to you, so incredibly lucky indeed. 

Feeling his lips soften into a smile, Marco couldn't help the images that came to mind as he watched the three of you interact. Every giggle and playful jest filling his heart with the familiar tenderness of family while you assisted the cook. Thatch’s eyes locking with Marco’s for the briefest of moments with a knowing grin. The fourth division commander easily reading into the starry-eyed look his brother got whenever it came to you, despite Marco’s best efforts to convince him otherwise.

Ever since that night he had asked you to join them, it seemed like both you and Marco were dancing with light in your steps. The timid glances when you mixed up herbs and the slightly nervous smiles you gave one another, all the more indication the brunette needed to know something had transpired between the two of you. And while Thatch wasn't yet positive as to what exactly had happened, he was confident his brother had stolen away any chance he, or anyone else, had at winning over your heart. Not that he would have tried, considering the way you gazed after the blonde. The sheer amount of longing in your (e/c) eyes, proof enough of your affections for the first division commander. However, no matter how obvious it was, you still refused his offer to join them. 

The conversation having been a repeat when Marco himself asked if you would come with them once Thatch recovered. Only to receive the same bittersweet smile and sorrowful answer you had given the chef. Your words spinning in the back of more than just the cook's mind, if Marco’s wistful expression was anything to go by. 

Yep, the poor old sap had it bad. Then again, when it came to you, it was difficult not to find something to admire. Even Thatch could admit to appreciating you and your unique spirit. You were kind, tough, and secretly funny when the time called for it. How could he not come to care for you when you could patiently hold your own against even Pop’s nonsense? You just fit so perfectly within the folds of their family, and the idea of having to leave you behind honestly pained the brunette more than the backlash of his illness. Nothing was ever going to feel fully complete again without you. You belonged with them, didn't you? 

Pulling his eyes away from Marco, Thatch let his gaze fall back to you. Your smile motivating him as you praised his progress and encouraged him to keep going. Every step, earning him another gushing approval while you stood by his side in case of any missteps. Your unwavering support of his efforts further deepening the knowing ache of what would inevitably come to pass. As much as he needed to get better, Thatch knew he would be lying if he said there wasn't a part of him that didn't want to. If only so that he could prolong the happiness that emitted from his brother each time the two of you locked eyes. If only, if only...

“Are you sure yoi?”

“You’d always be welcome with us.” Thatch pressed again, his eyes carefully tracking the way you slowly set down the bundle of herbs. Your body facing away from the two while you let out a long sigh and let your shoulders slump. 

“It's not like I don't want to.” you smiled bitterly, your (e/c) eyes turning round to face the commanders. “But what happens when I go? Who would be here to take care of the villagers? And after everything they've done for me, it just doesn't feel right to leave them.”

“You could always train someone to take your place, you know.” Marco frowned, your gaze dropping away from his as you shook your head.

“No, that would take too long. It's not as if you will be here for much longer. Not with the way Thatch is improving. And it would be wrong of me to ask for you to wait.” you reasoned. 

“One of you could always break my leg.” Thatch joked, both you and Marco staring wide-eyed for a moment before letting out a rich cascade of laughter. 

“Oh, please!” you chuckled. “We both know that would never work. Not with Marco and his ever-impressive skills. It would just be a lot of pain for nothing.”

“Would hurt less than not being able to see you.” Thatch countered, your smile flattering as the room fell silent. 

Taking a few steps, you easily closed the distance between yourself and the cook. Your hand coming to grip his in the familiar way it always did. 

“I'm going to miss you too,” you said softly, your face shifting to place a kiss on the brunette's cheek before pulling back to stare at him. “But we both know this is for the best. There is a whole world out there for you knuckleheads to terrorize, and I am needed here.” 

“We need you, ” Thatch frowned, Marco narrowing his eyes while his brother continued to press on. 

“Thatch, I can't, ” you started, tears starting to pull at the corners of your eyes.

“You can (Y/n), you need only be brave enough to do so.” 

“Thatch,” Marco warned, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder as you looked up at him. “As much as we would enjoy having you join us, we can't make you do anything you don't want to. If your heart is here then we won't pressure you to leave yoi.”

Nodding your understanding, you pulled away from the two and wiped at the water in your gaze.

“If things had been different, I wouldn't hesitate. But I can't turn my back on all of those who depend on me. And no amount of desperate wishing on any of our parts is going to change that.” you mumbled sorrowfully. “It is pretty crazy though, just how at home I feel with all of you. I would be lying if I said there wasn't a huge part of me that doesn't want to just throw it all away and set sail with you to the farthest horizons. But my duty to my people has to come first. What kind of healer would I be if I just abandoned everyone?”

“So that's it then? We really can't convince you?” Thatch tried, his eyes soft with emotions while you nodded. 

“I'm afraid not, but I do appreciate the effort,” you smirked. “It's good to know you all care for me, just as much as I have come to care for you.”

“Care doesn't even begin to cover it yoi, ” Marco said gently, his hand resting softly on your cheek as you smiled back at him. 

What you wouldn't give to spend the rest of your days finding ways to keep those cerulean eyes trained on you the way they were in this moment. If it took crossing the vastness of the grand line, you were pretty sure you wouldn't even blink. 

Feeling his eyes soften at the sound of your laughter, Marco couldn’t help but stare at the smile growing on your face. Your aura, warm and alluring as you drew his focus with the simplest of gestures. Every inch of your body aglow with light while you helped Thatch and joked with his brothers. And despite the roll in your eyes, it was clear to see the happiness that radiated from your frame; you were stunning. Yet, as his eyes started to wander over the tempting flow of your curves, a voice brought him back to reality. 

“You should be careful staring like that, someone may get the wrong idea young man.” 

Turning his attention to the village elder, Marco was amazed that he hadn’t noticed her approach. His haki usually alerting him to others when they neared. However, given that his focus had been elsewhere, it wasn’t all that surprising.

“Ah, sorry about that. Seems I’ve been caught red-handed yoi.” He smirked, his hand coming to rub the back of his neck sheepishly, while he tried to hide his guilt by alining the papers and books under his hands.

“Nah, don’t be. You certainly aren’t the first.” Mrs. Huxley grinned, moving to stand next to him. “And besides, it’s hard not to stare when she’s like that. She has one of the most contagious smiles I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. It really is a shame we don’t get to see it very often.”

“She’s not much of a smiler?” Marco ventured, his tone light with good intent.

“No, I'm afraid not. On occasion, you can catch a glimpse of it when she is playing with the children or lost in thought in a field of flowers. Yet, the weight of her past always manages to pull the corners of that smile down, until it’s just an empty shell.” Mrs.Huxley sighed, her eyes drifting to Ace and Thatch as the two continued their antics with you. “Although I have to say, your group does seem to have a particular talent for teasing them out of her. I haven’t seen her this happy and content with herself in a long time.”

“Hmm, years of practice I suppose.” Marco grinned, his eyes still fixed on the sight before him despite his efforts to avoid staring. “Pops is known for his bad habit of picking up the strays in life. At some point, you get used to the wide range of personalities yoi.” 

“Ah, but it’s more than that.” Mrs. Huxley laughed, her statement finally drawing Marco’s eyes back to the conversation as the elder continued. “Your group has managed to do something very few others have, you’ve made her feel safe. Instead of constantly looking over her shoulders, or checking around every corner, she’s enjoying her life again.” 

“Again? So you mean to say she wasn’t always a stick in the mud then?” Marco teased, the village elder fixing him with a pointed smile as she chuckled.

“I’m afraid not. At some point after she settled in, it was everything we could do to just keep her contained; her curiosity was insatiable. Always climbing up trees and venturing out to the reefs at low tide.” she scoffed. “I can’t tell you how many times we had to fish that girl out of the water because she wanted to learn about aquatic plants. Devil fruit or not, she never let anything stand in her way.”

Smiling at the elder’s words, Marco could feel the warmth of the memories as she talked. The images of the stories, similar to the feeling of half-burning embers in a fire after midnight, or the gentle steam that rose off a fresh cup of coffee in the morning. Her words drawing a comfortable familiarity over the conversation, despite the question now lingering in the back of his mind. 

“What changed?” He asked, unable to connect the pictures of the past to the image in front of him.

“...Oh a few things I suppose. It started when the old healer, Noel, died. Having lived with the doctor since she arrived, (Y/n) took it upon herself to follow in his footsteps. And after losing the person she relied on the most, coupled with the new stress of caring for the village, it isn’t a wonder why she doesn’t smile as often. Which is why it will be so devastating for her when you leave.” Mrs. Huxley frowned, her eyes filling with a painful understanding. “While she may never admit it out loud… you aren’t the only one with that longing gaze Sunny. If you watch long enough, her eyes always seem to fall back to you and your brothers.”

“Be that as it may, we already offered her to join us, and she refused.” Marco sighed, his mind backtracking to the previous conversation. “She said her place is here looking after the village. And given everything she does for you, I’m not sure anyone would have a clear conscience taking her away-”

“Oh, poppycock!” The woman spat, her shift in tone causing Marco’s eyes to widen. “Don’t you go listening to that bull she spews.” 

Blinking away his surprise, Marco did his best to interject. 

“She does have a point though yoi. Who are we to take your only healer? It wouldn’t be right to leave you without a doctor after everything you’ve done for her.” He grinned, Mrs. Huxley shaking her head in response.

“Look, I’m not sure what lies (Y/n) has been feeding you lot, but if she ever were to leave, we would fare just fine on our own.” She assured him. “If you’ve ever seen her house, then you would know she has been writing down every recipe and cure she has ever come across since the day she started her training. Every herb, its use, and where to find it, all carefully documented for the day her past catches up to her.”

“So all those papers and books?” Marco inquired.

“Filled to the brim with step-by-step instructions on how to fix all kinds of ailments.” She smirked. “That girl has been writing down everything she’s learned for the past however many years she’s been here. All in preparation for the day that she may have to leave us suddenly. Always fearful of something or someone catching up with her.” 

“Everything she’s inevitably told you about ‘her duty to stay here’ is just her own fear holding her back. We’ve known from the start that we may lose her or that someone might come looking for her. And we’ve all sworn to do our best to protect her for everything she has done for us. But at some point, it becomes hard to watch her throw her life away because she is too scared to make the jump.” Mrs. Huxley explained. “I mean, is there anything more tragic than something as free-spirited as a bird, being trapped in a gilded cage that it makes for itself? Too afraid of getting its wings clipped again to even try flying, despite the way it so obviously daydreams about the clouds under its feathers.”

Pausing at her words, Marco felt his brows pull together. It was mentioned before that you had a distaste for pirates, but given how busy he had been with everything, he hadn’t stopped beyond a few lingering questions to wonder why. Why someone as confident as you would feel so unsettled by such a thing. His concern on the matter only growing as the elder further explained.

“That journal you were reading the first few nights after you arrived,” she frowned, gesturing to the book carefully hidden out of sight under one of the many stacks of paper beneath Marco’s hands. “It was one of the few things that washed ashore with her and her captors when they wracked just off the edge of the reef. I must say I'm surprised to see it returned after so many years. Last we saw of it, it was on its way back to the mainland along with those that survived the wreck.”

“You can thank the sheer persistence of one Whity Bay for that. No stone was left unturned when it came to finding help for Thatch yoi.” Marco said uneasily. “We never meant any harm by bringing it here. I can't imagine it's easy to see it again.”

“I know, ” Huxley grinned warmly, her weary eyes drifting from the blonde to the smile on your face as you tried to once again steady the cook. Your eyes squinting shut when the raven-haired boy teased another laugh from your frame. 

“Although even after reading it, I can't fully claim to understand much beyond what was written. I could guess but-” Marco started, only to be cut off by the elder as she smirked back at him.

“The important thing to know is that she survived, ” she smiled “After everything she went through and the horrors that befell her, (Y/n) made it. If you take any meaning away from that book, take that. She's tougher than she looks, so don't be afraid to push her a little more next time.”

“Ma’am?” Marco asked his evident confusion at her words causing the elder to chuckle. 

“There's still some time before you leave to make things work if you want them to.” she winked. “Believe it or not, this old hen gets tired of waiting for her chicks to leave the nest. And after that show the two of you put on the other night, I'm almost certain you birds of a feather would flock fairly well together.”

Blinking widely at the old woman as she grinned back at him, Marco felt a subtle heat sweep over his face. The weak blush further feeding the elder’s knowing smirk as she moved to leave Marco with his thoughts. His mind racing with the information given to him. Sure he wasn't oblivious to the way you acted with him, but it still surprised him that the woman had been quick enough to pick up on it. Not that he was, by any means, trying to hide it. He was comfortable enough with himself and his intentions that the notion of others knowing didn't overly bother him. However, he had to wonder, if you had been in a state of preparation for so many years...just who or what was it that you were so immensely fearful of? Who could possibly fill your heart with such dread that the terror of discovery would push you to the ultimatum of abandoning the place you called home? 

Feeling his eyes drift back to the blissful smile on your face while you helped Thatch, Marco couldn't fight the frown that overtook his features. His gaze landing on the small scar hidden just out of sight under your shirt as you kept the cook balanced. Its mysterious meaning whispering dark secrets like the passages of the journal he kept concealed. As if this time of peace was the true calm before the storm and the real implications of the mark’s significance were the hurricane he had yet to face. While a part of him wanted to ask, something deep within the phoenix’s mind told him the answers may be just as tormented, as the questions themselves.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15 

Chapter Warnings: None

(Y/n)= Your Name

(E/c) = Eye Color

(H/c) = Hair Color 

(H/l) = Hair Length

Frowning out at the waves as they mocked you, you felt the sweat drip from your brow and onto the burning sand. The heat of the day easily drenching you and every other person helping to finalize the repairs on the Moby Dick in a less than comfortable sheen of perspiration. Yet, as the last of the pillars was attached, you couldn’t help but let out a loud sigh of relief. Every panel was now in place, and with the inventory properly stored, the hull was once again strong enough to be seaworthy. Which sadly meant that with the coming morning, you would finally have to say your goodbyes to your new friends. Their cheerful faces, easing the sorrowful pain that stung across your heart at the sight of their ship fully repaired. Rounds of joyous shouting filling the air while you made your way across the deck to overlook the spectacle.

Leaning against the railing, you had only a moment to yourself before the familiar feeling of your new favorite trouble makers invaded your space. Their undeniable chatter, pulling your eyes from the sand below as they patted you on the shoulder. Both Thatch and Ace, more than excited about finally being able to set sail again. 

“I can’t believe it! I thought we were never going to get this done!” Ace grinned, Thatch rolling his eyes as he settled in beside you. 

“It's only been a few weeks since we got here, not even a full two months brat.” Thatch reminded him, the raven dramatically leaning on your opposite side.

“But it feels like forever! We never stay in one place for this long.” Ace countered. 

“Well, it's not like you could have left if you wanted to, and Thatch did need time to recover.” You piped in. “Besides, it hasn’t been all that bad. You seem like you’ve been having fun.” 

“The food has been good at least…” Ace admitted.

“Just the food? Wow, gee thanks, chop liver over here.” You teased, quickly regretting your joke as the sweaty pirate wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the deck. “Gah! No! Wait, Ace! Put me down! You Stink!” 

“Awe! You’ve been pretty great too!” He cheered, swinging you around while Thatch laughed. 

“Easy freckles, don’t drop her.” He mused, enjoying your situation as Marco also found his way onto the deck after his final walk around below deck.

“If you have so much extra energy pyro, why don't you go help Vista reload the last of the cannons yoi.” The blonde suggested lightly, a good-humored smile growing over his features when Ace let out a loud groan in your ear. Your world finally coming to a stop as the raven put you down, and you could use the railing for support. 

“Can’t Haruta do it? Or Izo? I just finished coating the inside cabins!” Ace whined, both his brothers raising a brow at his antics before shaking their heads.

“Is that why you smell worse than normal?” You questioned, the onyx-haired man shooting you an incredulous look.

“I beg your pardon?! I never smell!” Ace huffed, the entirety of the deck becoming silent as he puffed out his cheeks before falling in a round of laughter. “Fine, whatever, I’ll go help stupid Vista…some friends you are.” He mumbled, taking his leave. 

Shaking your head with a chuckle, you couldn’t help the tender glow of warmth that seeped into your features every time you were around the raven. He just had a way of making everything humorous and lite. Even when he was pouting, it was almost too cute to take seriously. Perhaps that was why Thatch and the others so easily gave into him. The cook letting out a sigh before shifting away from the railing. 

“I’ll go help him…good work today sweetness,” He grinned with a wink, making his way after the raven and leaving you alone with the blonde as you tried to stifle a giggle. Honestly, what were you going to do without those two to brighten your day?

Glancing to the phoenix, you couldn’t help but motion over your shoulder at the two as the commander settled in Thatch’s vacant spot beside you.

“And you've put up with them for how many years now?” You inquired, Marco raising a brow while he gazed after the loud duo.

“Thatch? Too many to count.” He mused. “Ace on the other hand? I've only had to deal with for the last 874 days since he joined...well 875 if you count today, yoi.”

“Oh, B.S, there is no way you know that.” You puffed, waving off the blonde's answer as nothing more than his normal level of nonsense.

“Yeah? And how would you know?” Marco grinned, enjoying how easily you rose to the occasion of calling him out on his general bull.

“Cause that would have made him what, 17, when he joined? Isn't that a little young?” You countered matter of factly. 

“Hmm, not overly, no. I was younger than Ace when I was taken in by Whitebeard. In honesty, you might be surprised by the range in the ages each of us joined. For me, it's hard to remember a time when I wasn't at pop’s side yoi.” He smiled, his eyes softening as memories you could only guess at danced through his mind. 

“Really?” You asked thoughtfully. 

“Yep, ” the blonde grinned, his gaze returning to you.

“Hmm, poor pops. I can't imagine the trouble you caused the old man at Ace’s age.” you teased, a glorious smirk blossoming across your face while Marco raised a brow to your words. His own knowing smirk, growing as you continued your slight. “So many,  many  years of unspoken torment...no wonder his hair has gone white. Mine might too if I had t- Eeep!”

Feeling yourself being pulled by the waist, you lovingly looked up to the blonde while he furrowed down at you. His eyes digging into yours playfully as you smiled kioly back up at him. Every inch of your body feeling a lite while he ever so gently started to rub little circles over your hips where his hands trapped you against him. 

“You find it fun to poke at a man's age?” He grinned, leaning down to lessen the distance between you in his grasp. 

“Of course not!” You feigned. “A man’s age is a matter of the utmost respect and importance…unless it's you, then yes. I do so very much enjoy poking fun at your age.” You quipped, shifting your feet to close the last of the space with a chaste kiss. “But can you blame me when you wear it so well? Plus, Thatch told me it was the fastest way to get your goat. Which it seems, he was right.” 

Letting out a huff of air, Marco pulled back with a slight shake of his head. Of course, it had something to do with Thatch. The cook had been sticking his nose into every interaction he could between the two of you. So in all honesty, it shouldn't have come as any surprise that this was partially his doing. 

“Should have guessed it had something to do with him yoi,” Marco smirked, allowing his lips to smoothly drift back over yours. Your eyes fluttering shut at the bliss that flowed from him to you before pulling away with a longing sigh. 

“I’m going to miss this. Seems like just yesterday you washed up on our shore.” you frowned softly, Marco lifting a hand to teasingly poke at your puffed-out bottom lip.

“This doesn’t have to be the last.” He grinned, watching you roll your eyes.

“We’ve been over this, I can’t-” You began, stopping partway when he shook his head.

“I mean, Pops is throwing one last get-together tonight in celebration of our commitment as allies yoi. And if you would be so inclined as to join us, I’m positive we could find some more time for  ourselves .” He grinned, his voice lowering ever so slightly as he purred the end of his sentence. The sound, vibrating through your body while he continued to gaze lovingly down at you. 

“I suppose I could clear my schedule for the evening…that is if you promise to wait for me till then. I still have some rounds to make before I'm finished for the day.” You hummed back. Your (e/c) eyes batting up at him sweetly while he considered your counter-proposal. 

“Sunset, that's all the later I’m giving you yoi.” He agreed, at last allowing air between your bodies for them to breathe. 

“And not a moment longer.” You concurred, your eyes drifting from his when the sound of someone gagging drew your attention back to the audience the two of you had acquired. Haruta, pointing his finger into his mouth as he pretended to upchuck at the sight of you both. Marco narrowing his half-lidded gaze at the young commander while Kingdew and Juzo encouraged his antics with laughter. 

“Brat…” he scuffed, his slight scowl easily chased away by the touch of your lips on his cheeks as you started to take your leave.

“Try not to kill them before I get back, okay?” you giggled, feeling the blonde wrap an arm around your waist to return your kiss before letting go.

“No promises yoi.” 

Rolling your eyes, you took one last glance over your shoulder while you made your way off the ship. The sight of Marco pulling Haruta into a headlock causing a rich smile to spread over your features as you took your leave.

The hours passing quickly while you raced the sun across the sky until it painted the far horizon in brilliant shades of pink and orange. 

The world around you alight with wonder as you finished your rounds and ran your fingers through your (h/c) hair. The (h/l) strands, smooth to touch and soft under your efforts while you fixed it just right in the mirror. Your (e/c) eyes shimmering more than normal, and contrasting beautifully with the (f/c) fabric of your outfit. While it wasn’t anything overly fancy or extravagant, you had made a point to clean yourself up before heading over to the Moby Dick. Where, even now, you could already hear the warming ring of laughter and the thrilling promise of music. The auditory bliss complementing the delicious scent of Thatch hard at work doing what he loved as you took one final look in the mirror and made your way across the beach to the massive vessel. 

Above you, the merriment of final goodbyes swept radiantly through the early evening hours and settled heavily in your chest. This was it. After tonight, you would be saying your goodbyes. And when you awoke in the morning, you would have to face the bitter sight of their ship vanishing between the reefs, into the endless banks of fog. The image in your mind of the ship's glory against the dawn of a new day, filling you with a hurricane of conflicting emotions. 

Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady the sorrow rising in your thoughts before a familiar sound caught you off guard. 

“If you’re waiting for an invitation, I’m fairly certain you can go up.” Abe grinned, his mother's hand wrapped over his arm as he helped to guide her over the uneven earth. 

“Oh, ha I suppose so.” You chuckled back, allowing the uncertainty in your eyes to be masked by your smile. “I was actually just stealing my nerves for the evening. I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I think this bunch would give even you and your men a run for their money when it comes to drinking Abe.” You teased lightly. 

“Pish Posh,” Mrs.Huxley smirked “You young folks wouldn’t know a true drink if it was spilled in your laps. I’d like to see any of you contend with a seasoned connoisseur like myself.” She bosted, her words coming as somewhat of a shock given her more mature nature.  

Exchanging a wide-eyed glance with Abe, the three of you let a moment of quiet shift over you before you burst into laughter. The sound, drawing the attention of those above as the three of you were ushered aboard the ship and given your first round of drinks. You, of course, picking your favorite beverage on stock and then maneuvering your way through the crowds towards the kitchen. The rich scents of seasoned slices of bread and savory broths pulling you like a moth to a flame. Your figure, finding its way into the galley, where you were meet by one of the most beautiful sights you had ever seen. 

Scattered all along the deep oak table, lay platter after platter of delicious dishes. Each one more alluring than the next and dotted in between with playful colors of decadent pastries. While around the plates sat the many hands that had helped to create such a masterful display. Their faces pulled tight with peaceful smiles and throats filled with rumbling laughter that harmonized perfectly with the overall atmosphere of the gathering. Ace and Haruta, fawning over Kotatsu, while Thatch and Izo appeared to be bickering playfully back and forth with each other. Kingdew, Curiel, Blamenco, and Atmos all wrapped up in some form of poker as their division members mindfully watched the commanders strategize. And mixed up in the middle stood Vista and Jiro, who appeared to be hassling poor Deuce over something or another. 

All of them emitting such an aura of contentedness and familiarity, that without your noticing, you felt the drip of a single tear roll down your cheek. 

This, this moment, this image was one you knew you would dream about for a lifetime to come. It was the epitome of perfection, and despite what courage you had managed to gather during the day, you felt your resolve start to shatter. The shards of the walls you had built so very long ago, now cutting deeply against your desires, and causing an overflow of longing to flood your features with crystalline tears. You loved this, loved them. And in this fleeting passage of time, you felt your heart sing with a word it hadn’t since that summer day with Noel under the shade of the towering trees;  home .

“I figured I would find you here yoi.”

Feeling a familiar touch around your waist, you smiled up at the blonde as you wiped your eyes and leaned into him.

“Hmm, with an aroma like that, can you blame me? It's beautiful.” you mused back, Marco shifting his cerulean gaze from you to the room. His eyes, lingering for a moment on his brothers before returning to your (e/c) orbs with full focus. 

“Well, none of this could have been possible without you.” He smirked, inching his face closer to yours while you rolled your eyes and gave into a quick kiss. His affection lingering as the taste of the sake he had been drinking ghosted over your tongue. 

“I'm just happy you got here in time. Having seen what your crew is with Thatch as a part of it, I can't imagine him not continuing to be a part of your family.” You said thoughtfully, turning your attention from the blonde to the brunette while he tossed whatever dish he was working on masterfully into the air and caught it again within the pan. The ease at which he moved through the preparation of the dishes was truly a sight to behold. 

“I agree, nothing would be complete without every person in this room yoi.” he grinned warmly, noting the way you shifted at his words. Their hidden message, digging at your already crumbling resolve as you observed the festivity around you. 

“It will be so quiet without all of you. Just thinking that when I wake up tomorrow that you’ll be-” you started, the sudden increase of pressure on your hip cutting you short when Marco shook his head. 

“Then don’t think about it, not tonight at least. If this truly is our farewell, then let it be nothing but happy. There are many days ahead for sorrow, but tonight, let there be peace in your mind.” He grinned.

“Oh? Wise words. Tell me, did you learn that from experience, old man, or is that another one of the stories someone has yet to share?” you teased, watching his grin melt into a smirk as he brought his lips closer to yours. 

“Why don’t you find out,” He invited, his actions coming to a halt when Ace inserted himself between the two of you with bright eyes. 

“(Y/N)! It's about time! Where have you been? The party started over an hour ago!” He cheered, his cheeks filled with must have been part of the mountain of food on his plate.

“Humph, well unlike the rest of you, I actually have a job. I don’t get to stop helping people just because I put in my hours.” you joked, the raven blinking at you wide-eyed before you leaned over and grabbed one of the many treats off his plate to take a bite. The room around you exploding into laughter as the freckled commander blushed redder than his necklace. 

“No fair! I was going to eat that!” He whined.

“Pfft, is there anything you don’t plan on eating?” You joked, already moving to grab yourself a plate. “And besides, I almost lost my lunch today because of you and all that spinning. So you owed me.” You smiled, watching as Ace ducked his head and then proceeded to pass out. His plate of food grabbed just in the knick of time by Marco as the blonde skillfully held the dish from a messy splatter. 

“Tsk, what a pain. You better go ahead. This should only take a minute or two yoi,” he smirked, watching you shake your head at the commotion the raven caused. Honestly, you pitted the poor sap that got stuck with him in life. They were going to need some cat-like reflexes to keep up at mealtimes. Might even have to tape a pillow to the guy's head to stop him from getting a concussion. 

Letting out a good-natured sigh, you knelt down and ruffled the goof’s hair before making your way down the long table of delicious smelling food. Your plate easily filling with a multitude of different items as you made your way back to the kitchen to thank the chef responsible. Thatch flashing you a brilliant smile while he continued his impressive display of cooking. 

“Hey sweetness, glad to see you could make it. How’s everything tasting?” He asked.

“Well, I haven’t gotten the chance thanks to Ace, but it all smells amazing! They weren’t kidding when they said you really can cook.” You grinned, watching Thatch raise a brow. 

“Such praise, but I wasn’t talking about the food sugar.” he winked, his head motioning back to Marco as the blonde poked at the passed-out commander on the floor. 

Feeling your face tint with crimson, you let out a cough before lifting your embarrassed gaze back to the chef. 

“Whatever sake you have on hand tonight is a good selection,” you confessed, the brunette chuckling at your response. 

“Knowing him, it was the pineapple one.” He smirked, your deepening blush confirming his guess while he finished the next dish and passed it off to one of the sue chefs to plate. “Lucky man, but while I’d love to chat more on this topic, perhaps I could catch you later in the evening once I finish here, yeah?” 

“That sounds wonderful. Keep up the tasty work!” you smiled, readily take the chance to collect your nerves once more as the cook called out over his shoulder to you.

“And enjoy yourself!”

Flashing him a playful grin, he tossed another wink your way before returning to his efforts. His laughter, bouncing off the walls throughout the night while you drifted from person to person with ease. Your belly full and your heart overflowing as the sun made way for the moon and everyone moved onto the upper deck to partake in drinks. Where once again, you found your conversations interrupted by the comforting touch of a familiar hand. This time the blonde settling it over your shoulders as you leaned against one of the rails to keep out of the chaotic flow of the main crowd. Abe’s wife, taking the subtle hint with a knowing smirk before giving the two of you some space to converse under the moonlight. 

All around you, the people of the town seemed to be fully integrated amongst the pirates. Their faces mirrors of similar smiles and beer flushed cheeks. Each enjoying the merriment while you peacefully sat in your little slice of quiet. 

“How are you enjoying the party? I heard you beat Vista at cards? I didn’t even know you played yoi.” He smiled, his hip leaning against yours as you let yourself be pulled flush to his body. The action more or less done to help you avoid one of the drunken crew members, but nonetheless appreciated now that the evening was beginning to lose the heat of the day.  

“It’s wonderful, and I don’t.” You chuckled. “Haruta helped direct me, and I luckily pulled a good hand. Call it dumb luck, but the look on Vista’s face was priceless when he saw those aces I laid down.” 

“I bet it was, I’m sorry I missed it. I was busy with pops, and by then, you vanished.” He grinned. “But good, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I am,” You mused back at him, lowering yourself further and lifting your chin. Marco mimicking the action to place a kiss on your lips before the jolt of a loud violin made you shrink back. 

The sudden burst of noise unnerving you just long enough for someone to link their arm with yours and pull you away from the blonde as if the two of you hadn't just been in the middle of a much-desired intimate moment. Your bewildered eyes desperately flashing back to him for help as he gave you one of the cockiest smirks you had ever seen. The phoenix clearly enjoying the panic that swept over you at once more being swept into the fray of the party you were trying to get away from. Not that watching you get passed from person to person over the next hour or so while you danced was any less entertaining. However, when the music slowed, and you were finally able to catch your breath, he made his move to capture your attention once again. 

Waving to Thatch as he relinquished his hold on your waist, you turned just in time for Marco’s arms to wrap around you in one fluid motion. The air encircling you shifting as the violins softened and the mood of the ship lightened. Your feet, moving in time with the blonde’s while he swayed with you to the soft rocking of the romantic melody now playing over the deck. All eyes falling to the two of you as you let out a sigh and relaxed into his warmth. 

“Looked like you could use a break. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Thatch dance before.” he teased, your (e/c) orbs rolling while you shot him a pointed look.

“He is a credit to his gender.” you joked back, loosening one hand so that you could spin before being pulled back in by the phoenix. “Not that you’re too bad yourself.” You purred softly, the confidence in the blonde’s features only growing with your praise while he glided across the floor. The silver light of the moon reflecting in his gaze as his eyes remained glued to your smile. 

“Years of practice yoi.” He smirked. 

“Oh? Because from what Izo told me, you were a hopeless clutz when he first started teaching you. So tell me, just how much practice did I miss out on? Are there broken hearts all along the grand line?” You teased, your eyes widening as the blonde lifted you by the waist in a half-turn before setting you back down in an effortless display of skill.

“I don’t know about hearts, but there may be a fair amount of bruised toes.” He grinned back. 

“Hmm, well to be this good. I’m sure there are at least a few…” You sighed, taking a half step closer to lay your head in the crook of his chest and shoulder. “Before too long, I’m positive mine will be joining those ranks. That is if it hasn’t already.”

“Is that so?” He hummed, feeling your head give the slightest of nods against his skin while he continued to drift with you. Every step and movement, bringing you both that much closer to the edge of the joyful gathering. “It doesn’t have to, you know yoi.” 

Coming to a stop just shy of the railing, you pulled back and looked up at him. His normally half-lidded eyes, soft with a longing you knew all too well. The emotions in his gaze, a mirror reflection of the turmoil that had been swirling in your chest for the majority of the evening.

“Marco I-”

“Please (Y/n). There’s still time to change your mind.” He smiled, his bittersweet expression digging harshly against the last ounce of resolve you had managed to hold on to. “I’ve watched you all night charm the hearts of everyone here. Thatch was right, you belong with us yoi. And I don’t want to give this up.”

Feeling tears pull at the corners of your eyes, you let your forehead rest against the blonde’s when he leaned in to wipe at the crystalline drops.

“Neither do I, but-”

“Come with us…come with me.” he pressed, his mind flashing back to the words he shared with Mrs.Huxley on the beach. Her voice, echoing in his head as he did his best to convince you. And while normally, he wouldn’t have pushed to this point, he couldn’t deny it. He wanted you, wanted to wake up to that smile, to hear your laughter and watch you effortlessly melt the hearts of everyone you touched. 

In what little time he was given to know you, he could no longer deny that you had become his most favorite of treasures. A gem far too precious to simply leave to the uncertainty of the world. Besides, He was a pirate after all, and what kind of pirate would pass up the chance of winning over something as rare as you? And maybe that was why he now found himself unable to hold back. The idea of not being able to see you, far more painful than continuing to hold his tongue. 

“(Y/n)…”

Feeling your breath hitch, it was as if time itself had slowed with his approach. The centimeters of space ebbing away while the world held its breath in anticipation of your answer; this was it. His eyes, and the eyes of those around you, glued to your features while they waited for your response. Each of their gazes only adding to the pressure in your chest as your eyes flickered from the depth of the cerulean orbs in front of you, to the horizon beyond. The seemingly never-ending bank of fog whispering darkly to you when the mist cleared just enough for you to peer a few meters further. 

Pulling back, you narrowed your gaze at the spot where the heavy clouds met the open water within the reef and waited. Everything else put on pause as the hair along your neck started to prickle with unease. Something was there, you could feel it. And as you stared out at the open water, Marco could feel it too. Your subtle shift in attention bringing his eyes to also peer across the waves while the sounds of the party faded in intention. Voices turning to whispers when at last the object within your sightline shifted against the current and the flag of an all too familiar vessel glared back at you. The symbolic bird lashing fear through your eyes as it ripped the ever fervent pain of your past back into the present. 

Taking a step away from the railing, you felt your world come to a sudden halt. The sound of your heartbeat deafening the noises of laughter to nothing more than rapid pounding thumps as you forced yourself away from the blonde’s side and back into the fray of the party. Everyone too engrossed in their own enjoyment to take notice until you physically back into the side of Thatch and lost your footing. Ace thankfully enough, managing to catch you before you found yourself giving the floor a full-body hug.

“Hey, wow there, where’s the fire (Y/n)?” Ace grinned, Thatch also moving to your side with a bright smile.

“You alright sweetness? You look like you’ve seen a ghost? Marco’s not being too rough with you now is he?” He teased, the bodies of those immediately around you turning to see what all the fuss was about. One of which belonged to Abe as he did his best to keep his mother and Whitebeard from trying to outdrink one another. 

“NO!” Flinching back, you ripped your arm from the raven’s grip and turned your panic-stricken eyes to his darker ones. Your tone silencing those within earshot as it became evident something was wrong. 

“Hey (Y/n) sorry, I didn’t mean any-“ he began, suddenly hyper-aware of the havoc radiating from your frame as Abe made his way to your side. The familiar feeling of his touch helping to dull the screams of your nightmare as you were grounded back in reality. 

“What's going on?” Abe inquired, his calloused hands helping to keep you steady when Marco’s voice carried over the quickly quieting deck. 

“Marines…”

Chapter Text

Chapter 16

Chapter Warnings: Language, Talk of Death

(Y/n)= Your Name

(L/n)= Your Last Name

(E/c) = Eye Color

(H/c) = Hair Color 

(H/l) = Hair Length

Helping one of the women with her young kids, you paused as you handed off the child to their father. Your eyes locking on to the tremors that ripped through your fingers as fear bubbled in your veins and people raced to evacuate the potential battle zone. All around you, you could see flashes of the past replaying in the present. The worried cries of terrified children coupled with the hushed whispers of their panicked parents, mirroring your most haunting nightmares. Smoke temporarily clouding your vision while the faces of those long gone flashed through your eyes. Newgate and his sons, already bracing for combat as the Marines cleared the barrier reefs surrounding your island and started their warpath towards the shore. Minutes slipping through your fingers while you, and a few others, tried to usher the numerous innocent lives present at tonight's party away from the incoming danger. 

Beside Newgate at the helm stood Mrs. Huxley and Abe, their solid frames helping to oversee the retreat of many of the families as they discussed a plan of action. Their voices distant in your mind while you tried to focus on getting those you loved to the safety of the treeline. Several of the older villagers, remaining firm alongside their new pirate friends in a show of force and support while they set up defenses across the shore. And within this fray stood Marco and his brothers. Each one more than prepared to face the odds and defend the lives around them. 

“What should we do?” Izo frowned, his brow knitted together in worry as Ace pushed his way forward. 

“Obviously we fight! What else is there to do?” He questioned.

“So, I’ll take it that you’ll be helping to dig graves for those caught in the crossfire then?” Izo snapped back. “Not everything is settled with a show of force hothead!”

“Enough!” Mrs. Huxley huffed, her cane stamping the deck with irritation as the gathering turned their attention to the elder. “My people are more than capable of fending for themselves. The question isn't if you should fight or not. it's if you can maneuver away from the beach in time to minimize the damages.”

“She's right.” Juzo frowned. “With the tide on their side, it's not a point of if we should fight, but if we can manage to move the ship enough to keep the cannon fire broadside instead of concentrated along the beach.” 

“We can best minimize the harm if we centralize their fire within the bay and away from the homes,” Haruta added, his eyes met with a warm smile from the elder. 

“Hmm, you should move with your people as far into the forest as possible,” Whitebeard suggested, Huxley shaking her head with a knowing grin. 

“I think you’ll find that impossible. Already those along the shore are lining up to do battle with your men. I’m not sure I could sway them even if I wanted to. And even then, I share their empathy. I will not abandon you to the wolves just because they dare to bear their fangs. You are our guests, and we will stand with you in this hour of need.” She huffed back. “For now, see to your own and know you can fall back to us, should you need to. The forest will help to provide cover if the worst is to come.”

“And your people?” Marco inquired, “You’re sure you will be able to handle the navy should they stick around once we’re gone yoi?” 

“This will not be our first time dealing with the likes of them,” Abe reassured, Huxley nodding her agreement. 

“We will be fine, and moreover so will (Y/n).” She smirked, the blonde smiling back as the elder effortlessly read between the lines of his questions. “Just be sure to watch your own backsides before you worry about ours, Sunny.”

Nodding his understanding, Newgate let his eyes drift over his many children. The fight in their eyes feeding the grin that grew over his face. 

“Seems we are in for some midnight training my boys.” He mused. “Let's not let our new friends down.” 

Hearing the round of cheers, you shifted your eyes from the line of bodies exiting the beach, to the crew strung along the deck of the Moby. (E/c) orbs scanning until they found that familiar tuft of blonde amongst the crowd. 

This was it. It was really happening. 

After years of concealing yourself, of denying your irrational fears, every nightmare you had ever dreamed was mere moments away from crashing in on you. The people you loved, those you had come to care for, and those who were still so new and precious to you, all of them now lay within danger's wake, and for once, it was not in the way you ever could have imagined. 

After the initial shock had worn off and Abe had managed to calm you down, it had become known that the Marines may have followed the group here. The crew having had an altercation with the convoy some days prior to arriving at your shore. Which, now that you thought about it, made sense as to why the crew had sported such a wide range of injuries when they first appeared. Everything adding up as the last of their adventure returned to haunt them. And now, they would have to face their enemies once more if they stood a chance at making it back to the protected waters of their home. A thought that still plagued you, despite the oppressing danger that loomed just overhead. 

You were going to lose them. 

What was supposed to be one last night of blissful longing was now an endless hurricane of agony and fear. Your final fleeting moments, tainted with a bittersweet reminder of why you should have never let it get this far. What had you expected? They were pirates. And while they were different from any other pirate you had ever come across, that did not stop the world from still seeing them as criminals. 

It had been foolish to think, to hope, that for one night, you could ignore the cruelty that roamed beyond your sheltered shores. I mean, for god's sake, you had been preparing for something like this to happen for years. Ever since you had decided to stay by Noel’s side, you had been in a state of readiness for when some part of your past finally caught back up to you. Yet never in all those years did you dare to think that it would be coming back to haunt those you loved instead of yourself.

Then again, you had never once prepared yourself for the potential of loving others or learning to let people into your heart. Not one time considering the possibility that the life you had left behind could someday hurt the people around you because you never wanted to let another person that close again. And yet, without your knowledge, the villagers had so effortlessly wormed their way into your life. Each of them filling your every day with love and laughter, their warmth washing away the bitter cold of what once was. While their light guided your recovery to the point that now, as you stood before one of your greatest fears, all you could think about was trying to keep them and your new friends safe.

“So what's the plan then?” Thatch asked, the commander returning with Blamenco after helping to offload the last villagers from the ship. 

“We’ll draw their fire into the bay and concentrate on losing them through the reef. Ace will draw up some steam for cover and-” Pausing in his explanation as Atomas raised a finger to the horizon, Haruta and the others turned their attention to the growing number of ships twisting through the gauntlet of sea spires. 

“It appears those cowards didn’t come alone yoi.” Marco frowned, Namur grunting in agreement at his side. 

“We need to keep this fight away from shore. If we leave, they should follow us. They shouldn't have any reason to quarrel with the villager since we are gone.” Deuce glowered, his eyes glued to the two main vessels that manage to break through the ring of exposed coral and into the open water. 

“Hmmm,” Whitebeard agreed, his eyes lowering to Huxley as she leaned her head with a respectful smile. 

“We will be ready, should you need us.” She bowed, Newgate kneeling at her side in a show of admiration as they regarded one another. 

“Thank you for your kindness. If not for you and your village-” He started.

“Think nothing of it…Whether or not you remember me, I remember you and the day your captain stepped foot on this island all those years ago. You were a friend to us then, and I will continue to uphold the memories from that time. You’ve come a long way from when I was young. And to this day, I remain in your debt Edward. May the wind fill your sails…”

“…and may the waters before you be fair.” He finished, a soft and knowing smile growing over the captain’s face as Abe collected his mother, and the two were ushered off the ship. Memories from a distant time dancing between the two elders as Huxley exchanged a final gracious bow and exited to join her people along the sand. Her face, holding the warmth and understanding of a secret only she and Whitebeard would ever know. 

Taking one last glance at the determined smirks amongst those on the shore, Whitebeard set his sons to work casting off. The gentle rocking of the water a familiar feeling under his feet, as the crew was once more returned to where they felt most at home. Miles of ocean singing through their veins while they loaded the cannons and readied the ship for battle. 

Along the beach, Huxley and the others mimicked the crew’s actions as defenses began to fall into place to aid their comrades should the two vessels attempt to barricade the Moby. Your frame easily singled out as Abe and his mother pulled you to the side. 

“There is no need for you to stay here. Go and join the others.” She instructed. 

“But what about you and the-”

“We shall be fine.” She reassured you, Abe nodding his head.

“Take cover. We can handle whatever those brutes have to throw at us.” He instructed, your eyes drifting from his to Mrs. Huxley’s before nodding your understanding and turning for the forest. Your legs coming to a stop just ahead of the treeline as you turned back in time to catch the cerulean gaze glued to your outline. Marco, Thatch, Ace, Izo, and so many others, standing firm in their determination to protect you and those you loved. Their unwavering confidence reaching you even as the shadows of the forest swallowed your figure in darkness. 

It would be alright. They were going to be fine… 

...they had to be, right?

Watching your frame vanish into the tree line, Marco turned his eyes to the all too familiar gauntlet in front of him. The overbearing crest of the Marines, a sight he had grown accustomed to seeing over his many years sailing the Grand Line. However this time, instead of having the freedom to put these pests in their place, he would be doing his best to defend those caught up in the crossfire. Would it be easy to let loose and destroy the threat in the blink of an eye? Yes. But with so many innocents in the vicinity, it wasn't unlikely that some of them would inevitably get caught up in the back lack of an all-out brawl. The tricky situation, calling for a level of restraint and tact in place of the typical show of force. A fact which the Marines seemed to be keen on exploiting as the two massive vessels shifted to block the prominent exits out of the bay. 

Frowning out across the water, the crew squinted at the sight of the two Admirals as they made their way to the head of the ships to confront them. The recognizable scar pattern of Doberman easily picked out from the more predominant vessel. While in contrast, the second Admiral was somewhat of a surprise. 

Standing tall on the adjacent bowsprit, Marco and the others took in the sight of none other than Vice-Admiral Momonga. The man’s mohawk, giving him away as he maneuvered his ship into an offensive position alongside his fellow Admiral. Both facing down the Moby while Doberman once again opened a line of communication between the three vessels with his den-den mushi. The conversation broadcasted over the waters and to the shore below. 

“Seems I’ve finally managed to track you down again, Whitebeard.”

“Indeed,” Newgate muse back. “I must say I am impressed you managed to get past those sea kings. Perhaps there is some promise for you yet brat, Gahaha.”

“It will take more than a few sea serpents to faze the likes of us. But I must say Whitebeard, I am also impressed.” He grinned, the aura around him bursting with overconfidence. “Here I was coming to hunt you down, and you end up leading me to an island of runaway castaways! I really do have to thank you for your efforts in the matter.”

“You have no quarrel with them, Doberman. Your battle is with me,”

“Oh, but you see, I do,” Dobermen leered, his eyes drifting to where Mrs. Huxley and Abe stood along the shore with some of the others. “That forgotten group of outcasts have been harboring the one and only Caladrius. Who up until recently was a long thought deceased enemy of the navy for nearly a decade! So imagine my surprise that when I finally manage to find you, you are practically waving this trophy in my face.” he laughed, his cold gaze simmering back at the anger growing across the faces of the crew.

“That commander of yours and her do make quite the skeptical to behold together. And I must say that I truly enjoyed the performance you two put on.” he complimented. The admiral drinking in Marco’s narrowed glare with satisfaction as he continued to pick at the apparent weakness. Newgate's crew all too predictable when it came to those they cared for. And as always, it would be their one natural downfall. “However, while the great Whitebeard is a prize worth pursuing, I’m afraid you will have to share your spotlight this time around.” 

Turning his attention to those gathered along the beach, Dobermen addressed the crowd directly. Your body coming to a standstill the second his voice stretched over the distance and reached your ears. Every hair on your neck standing on end as violent memories of gunshots and muzzle flashes danced across your vision. Your eyes, turning from those around you to the earth under your feet in shame. 

“Good people, let this not come to bloodshed. Hand over the Caladrius, and we will leave you in peace. We will even overlook your transgression of lending aid to such a group of lowlife pirates.” He promised, Huxley narrowing her weathered gaze before taking another step forward on the sand. 

“Sing all the songs you want siren. We know your kind and how shallow the sweet promises are that fall from your lips. We wish not to fight, but if you step one foot on this beach with ill intent towards our healer, know you will be met with resistance.” Huxley frowned, Abe and the others standing firm beside her. 

“Healer?! Hahaha, madam please, do not be fooled by that witch's charm. She is nothing but a mindless monster, trained by a ruthless bunch of cowards to infiltrate and destroy villages like yours. Ask any of the hundreds of families stretched across the Grand Line, and they will tell you the nightmares caused by that thing you call a ‘healer’.” He smirked, his eyes lifting from the sand to the trees beyond. “In fact, why not come out and play (L/n)? Come, tell these people of the countless lives you’ve destroyed. Tell them how you would insert yourself into village after village, town after town, and wait for them to let their guard down before striking. Regale them with tales of how you would release your foul illnesses upon the innocent so that your bastard of a captain could plunder with ease and then slaughter those who didn’t succumb to your deadly mists. Don’t be shy, come admit to your crimes…or shall I slaughter every foolish soul that stands between us Caladrius? Shouldn’t be any large feat to destroy the fantasy you seem to have naively built on this forgotten spit of land.” 

Feeling your hands ball into fists, shame washed over you like the violent waves that crashed upon the beach during thunderous storms. His words pulling tears from your eyes as you squinted them shut and let the pain of past wounds drown you in remorse. He was right you were a monster. A lost soul that had once been chained to the will of those who only saw greed. Nothing more than a child who fell prey to those who sought to abuse your strength, and harness your potential against the purity of the world. His words, drawing the agonizing memories of those you couldn’t save back to the surface. Their wailing voices swirling in your mind and clashing with your hold on reality until a feather-light touch on your shoulder drew your guilt-filled gaze from the ground. The forgiving smile of Abe’s wife shattering through the panic as she and the others moved to stand by your side. Her hand lifting to tenderly wipe the droplets that dared to race down your cheeks. Their presence, chasing away the visions of disease-ridden faces and replacing them with the calmness that came from being surrounded by family. 

“(Y/n)…” She whispered. The warmth emanating from her understanding gaze and from those around you helping to ground you back in the present. Effortlessly reminding you that you weren't alone anymore, that you were no longer helplessly lost in a never-ending game of suffering. Reaffirming that no matter what the world said of you, they would continue to remain by your side. Their acceptance of who you are and not who you were, flooding the earth below you with crystalline tears. 

They had known, from that very first day when you washed up on their shore, and yet here they stood. Their faces bright with understanding while they openly acknowledged all that you were to stand beside you in this moment of fear. Determination filling your heart with resolution as they surrounded you in a love you had once only dreamed of. Their love igniting a fire that burned through the downpour of turmoil in your mind to give you the clarity you needed. 

You had tried to hide from your past. Pushing everyone around you away so that you would never have to feel the guilt of seeing them leave you. But in the end, you had failed. 

Lifting your hand to the one gently pressed to your cheek, you gazed back at the faces enveloping you. Their fear a mirror of yours as you shared this moment with them. While once you might have tried to cut your losses and get out of dodge, this time was different; you were different. You were no longer some wayward teen or tragically trapped child. No, this time you were free. And knowing that those who cared for you would continue to stand by your side, you felt the anger that secretly seethed under your skin begin to rise. 

The world took everything from you once. It’s cruelty claiming your home, your family, your sense of peace, and your loved ones. But never again, were you going to stand idly by and watch your world fall apart. No, this time things were going to be different. Because if the world thought it was going to shake you to your core, it had another goddamn thing coming. 

Turning away from the soft touch, you took a step back with a bittersweet smile. 

“I will not ask for you to pay for my mistakes…” You started, the gathering continuing to lovingly gaze back at you. Abe’s wife flashing you that all too familiar knowing smile. As if she had already known the choice you would choose and had been waiting for you to realize it yourself. 

“You don’t have to ask. You’re family (Y/n), and you don’t leave family.” She said firmly, her eyes turning back to those around her. “You go, I’ll get them to safety… you take such good care of yourself out there.” She murmured, her lip shaking as the others nodded their understanding of your actions. 

Feeling your eyes widen, you were pulled into a tight hug before Abe’s wife turned to the gathering and urged them further from the shore. Her familiar frame, vanishing within the concerned faces of those you had grown to love. She knew you would never allow any of them to be in harm's way for something you had done. You were a healer, a protector to all those around you. Which meant that when someone threatened your family, they threatened you. And you’d be damned if you let some puffed-up Admiral think he could point his cannons at your family without consequences. 

Back on the beach, Huxley bravely stood her ground as the massive vessels continued to vie for position. 

“You even try to lay a hand on any of the members within this village, and we will redefine the meaning of pain Doberman!” Haruta shouted, Juzo backing him up. 

“Your fight is with us and us alone!”

“Bring it on you mangy mutt!”

“Doberman,” Newgate called, the Admiral shifting his gaze to the Yonko with disgust. “A true warrior does not bring innocents into the middle of a battle. Leave the people alone.” 

“Innocent? Not one of those villagers is innocent if they are helping to hide a murderous coward! That monster-” He started, all eyes snapping back to the shore when your voice cut through the stillness and successfully put an end to the Admiral's rant.

“Who said I’m hiding!?” You glared, standing a few yards away from the others. “If you’ve got a bone to pick with me, then fine! But don’t you dare bring my people into it! They’ve done nothing wrong!” 

“Nothing wrong? They aided in concealing a known enemy of the navy and assisting one of the world's Yonkos! Your people are far from being free of retribution.” He sneered back, your gaze hardening at his words. 

“If you want me, here I am, and I’ll go without a fight. But you and your men so much as aim another gun at Newgate or my family, and I won't hesitate to personally see to it that you never see the light of morning!” you all but snarled at the man, your eyes remaining fixed while those around you stood stunned. Mrs. Huxley the first to try and intervene.

“(Y/n)! Stand down!” Huxley ordered, your eyes unmoving as you addressed the convoy. 

“Listen to your elder, brat!” Newgate barked, backing up Huxley while his sons stood momentarily shocked at your words. Their voices a symphony of worry as they quickly recovered and tried to persuade you.

“(Y/n)!” 

“Deal?” You spat, the Admiral exchanging a look with Momanga before nodding his head. All eyes glued to your form as you stood at the lion’s gate. The massive vessel coming to anchor just shy of the shallows.

.

.

.

“… Deal.”

Chapter Text

Chapter preview 

Chapter 17

Chapter Warnings: Language, Written Depictions of Violence, Trauma  

(Y/n) = Your Name

(L/n) = Last Name

(E/c) = Eye Color

(H/c) = Hair Color 

(H/l) = Hair Length

Using your wings to lift you over the sand and to the bowsprit of the marine vessel, you let your glimmering frame rest gracefully just beyond the reach of the crew. Their bewildered and awestruck gazes transfixed to your luminescence feathers as the familiar face of the Admiral melted out from between the bodies on the deck. Doberman’s smug grin greeting the determined glare you shot back at him.

“It's been quite some time, Caladrius.” He smirked, your face remaining firm before an equally smug look graced your features. 

“Indeed. If I recall correctly, the last time we met, you were still a lieutenant… although I have to say, those scars are quite a nice touch to your oh so warm personality.” You sneered. Doberman's smirk swiftly twisting into a scowl while you smiled on. 

“Humph, laugh while you can. Each one of those marks was earned by putting scum like you behind bars.” He snarled, your eyes narrowing mischievously as you continued to press the man’s buttons. 

“Hmm, well guess you wouldn’t mind if I give you a few more then.” You threatened sweetly, your honey-soft voice sending chills through the gathered men while a few of them found their courage inching a few feet further from your still shimmering frame. 

“Perhaps another time. We had a deal, witch. The act is cute, but it ends here… stand down.” He ordered, his voice carrying over the quiet of the night. 

Frowning back at the man, you continued to glare a moment longer before straightening your posture and allowing your wings to fade. Your hands coming to rest beside you as you let your gaze fall to the deck in surrender. Reluctance holding your frame just out of reach of the Admiral and his men while he nodded his approval. 

“It’s been a long run, but your struggle ends here. Time to answer for your crimes (L/n).” 

Lifting your (e/c) eyes from the wooden planks below you, you watched memories morph through the open space around the Admiral. The faces of those who haunted your dreams and brought panic to the nightmares that plagued your sleep, cascading around him like a collage. Pain filling your features as anger boiled under the surface of your distrustful gaze. 

You didn’t want to return to chains. 

The phantom sting from where the metal had rested upon your wrist day after day, still bitterly fervent in your mind. But as you took in the position of the other vessel blocking the exit out of the bay, you felt the conflict in your chest tame your fear. The pictures dancing in front of your eyes, shifting to tender kisses and joyful laughter while you flashed back through the events of the last few weeks. Their light and warmth solidifying your resolve even as the voices from the beach desperately cried out to you. 

For them, for each and every one of the people on that beach and those sailing alongside you, this was for them. 

“And you swear on your honor as an Admiral, that you won't lay a hand on Whitebeard or his sons?” You inquired, Doberman giving a single nod in response to your question. 

“You have my word.” He reaffirmed, a single hand held out to you as he waited for you to abandon yourself to your fate. Hesitance etched in every inch of your haunting frame while you forced yourself to seize what courage you could. 

Taking in a long deep breath, you took a step forward. Your body stilling for the briefest of moments when a voice called to you amongst the waves. The sweet familiar sound shaking your determination while Marco glared over the distance to where you stood beyond his reach. Your confidence visually wavering as the sound of your name on his tongue twisted your resolve with desire. 

This was never how you had wanted to say goodbye, but as you shut your eyes to drown out your selfish wants, this was the goodbye you resigned yourself to. If you didn't, what was the alternative? Could you live with the crushing weight of knowing your selfish desires had caused the pain of those you loved? Or god’s forbid, the death of those you cared for? 

Thinking back to those long days spent learning, you reflected on the many hours you had poured over every little interaction, desperately trying to rediscover what trust was. The endless tears that came with the trauma you had been through, and the gentle hand that had been there to guide you through it. His endless patience and adoration helping you to remain strong, while the fleeting image of Noel’s smiling face encouraged you to take another step. 

For the sake of those you loved, this was the only way. 

Back on the Moby, Marco watched on with the others as you made your way across the deck and into the clutches of the Vice-Admiral. Your actions, while not surprising, stung amongst the many hearts observing the interaction. You were laying down your freedom in exchange for their own. Freedom, they all knew you had fought to obtain through years of captivity amongst men who sailed under similar colors. And yet, even after all they had put you through, here you were throwing everything you had struggled for a way for a group of people you could scarcely claim to know!

Sure, it felt as if you were a part of the family. A piece of the puzzle that fit so perfectly within their lives, that it was as if you had always been there. But this was crazy! You had no right to just toss your life away for them! And looking to Whitebeard, it was obvious that the Yonko wasn’t about to let this matter slide either. The captain taking up a position behind the wheel and moving to change the course of the ship while you surrendered yourself to the Admiral. His actions only coming to a halt when Momonga shifted the gate of his cannons. 

“Stand aside brat.” 

“Unfortunately, we both know I’m not under obligation to do so.” Momonga frowned, his gaze holding firm while you twisted your worried eyes from Doberman to your friends. 

“We had a deal!” You snapped, distress edging your voice as the two Vice Admirals let their attention waver to where you stood on the deck. Your emotions causing light to shimmer radiantly out of your body in a hauntingly beautiful display of concern. “You said you’d let them be…please.” 

Lifting a brow, Doberman let a wickedly teasing grin cross his features at the shift in your voice. 

“Hmm, seems those cretins have managed to do something none others have…Tell me, how is it that the likes of those bastards have come to tame a spirit as wild as yours? To take such a feral beast and repress you enough that you would actually come to genuinely care for lowlifes like them?” He mused dangerously, his imposing frame moving to close the distance while you stood frozen. 

“Lay one hand on that girl, and you won't live to see the dawn Doberman.” Whitebeard threatened, the captain still glaring down Momonga as the exchange took place. 

“Is that so? Then perhaps I have this situation backward. Is it possible that instead of subduing a wild beast, this demon may be the one who has tamed the ferocious Whitebeard? You both seem to care an awful lot for one another, considering the short time you’ve had to become acquainted. Or is it that you likewise foul mongrels just can't help but find comfort in your disgusting familiarity?” He pressed, his hand coming to painfully grip your wrist. The action instantly backfiring when a huge wave crashed against the side of the vessel and sent the majority of the crew scattering across the deck. 

Steading yourself, you lifted your gaze just enough to see the piercing intensity in Newgate's eyes. His massive weapon lifted skyward in the ship's general direction. 

“Keep your hands off my daughter,” He snarled, eyes locking with Doberman as the Admiral found his footing amongst the rocking wave and sneered back to the captain.

“Worthless old-”

“PLEASE!” You cried, tears streaming down your face as the three powers braced for battle. The tension only growing while you tried to keep the peace for those around you. “I don’t want to see anyone else get hurt! Just let me do this for you! Let me repay your kindness and acceptance! I can’t take watching you bleed for me!” You pleaded, your voice carrying over the waves to your new beloved friends. Everyone remaining motionless, until one by one, an endless sea of warm smiles flashed back to you. Their bright faces and smug expressions sending the turmoil in your frame spiraling. How could they be smiling? How could they just…

“You’re in no position to barter missy,” Whitebeard smirked, his son’s all moving to the railing to show their backing of their father’s words.

“Do you honestly think we would just stand aside and let you have all the fun Sweetness?” Thatch grinned, Ace going to his brother’s side as the two leaned against the railing and gleamed back at you. 

“No way! You take on one of us, you take on all of us!” The raven cheered, more and more of the commanders and crew moving to show you their support. 

“All for one!” Haruta called, Izo nodding his agreement. 

“Like hell would we ever let those entitled seagulls have their way. Ha!” 

Feeling the waterfall of tears stream from your face, you couldn’t even begin to explain the emotions rising in your chest. 

“We got you (Y/n)…” Marco smirked, his half-lidded gaze stealing every ounce of uncertainty from your body while you gazed over the water to where your heart lay. Love illuminating your soul as the beach also erupted with cheers of agreement from the villagers you had come to know. Their multitude of voices and adoration quelling the flames of guilt within your chest while Doberman sneered at the exchange. 

Disgusting. 

Feeling your world shift, you managed to scarcely block the incoming assault as your wrist once again became trapped by the man beside you. His anger burning like a flame while he glared back at you. 

“Deal or no deal, you’re not going anywhere, you witch!” He spat, his hand tightening its grip until your skin turned pale from the pressure. The pain barely registering as you tried to twist your limb free and regain the space you now desperately needed. 

“I am free to go where I please! You ill-mannered tub of guts!” You snarled back, wrenching your wrist from the vice of his hold before taking a step to steady yourself. The action feeling strange as you tried to brace against a sudden wave of weariness that washed over you and dragged you to your knees. Your eyes widening in panic at the sight of the heavy stone bracelet now clasped around your wrist. The drain of the sea stone, an all too familiar feeling as the Admiral leaned over your fallen form. 

“Free is for the righteous.” He smirked, the action drawing attention while the others jumped into motion. 

Feeling himself jolt forward, Marco managed two feet before Thatch grabbed his shoulder. The cook stopping his brother as he motioned to where the cannons of the navy vessel were directed. A single miss-step on their part and the shoreline would be blown sky-high. The sight causing the commander to grit his teeth and look back helplessly to where your frame had vanished behind the railing. Something wasn’t right, and he didn’t have time to waste on hesitating. 

“Thatch we can’t-“ He started, only to see the brunette shake his head. Ace surprisingly, coming to back up his brother while they stopped Marco from jumping headfirst into battle. 

“And we won't. Let Ace and I worry about (Y/n). You and Juzo need to cover the beach while pops and the others deal with Momonga. We have more to lose than just her, given your own susceptibility to sea stone. You keep her village safe-“ Thatch smirked, allowing Ace to finish as the two beamed back at their brother. 

“-And we’ll focus on getting your little birdy.” Ace chimed, Haruta and Kingdew also moving to join the rescue team. 

Blinking at the four, Marco wanted to protest, but even he could see the strategy in what they suggested. With Ace’s abilities to provide cover, the three would be more than capable of making it to the ship and clearing a safe path for the other divisions to follow. All while minimizing the deprivation of force needed to defend their own ship. And with Juzo, Vista, and Belmanco stepping up to assist him on the shore, they would be able to deflect the majority of the incoming cannon fire from the homes. If they lost the village, they lost you. Whether you were unharmed or not, there was more at play than just one ball. No, if this was going to work, they would need to split into thirds to cover all the bases. Nothing could be left to chance.

Nodding his understanding, Marco let his general easy-going smile return to his features. With the four of them playing offensive and both Juzo and Belmanco to back him up, defense would be more than covered. Save perhaps, for the odd cannonball. Which just left Pops and the others. But with one look to Izo as he stood stubbornly beside the old man, Marco knew his family was in good hands. Then again, was there ever any doubt when it came to the goofballs he called brothers? Nah, this would work… it had to.

“Hmm fine, just don’t burn the ship before everyone gets off this time, alright pyro?” Marco smirked, the blonde ruffling the raven's hair as the gathering of crew members let out a laugh. 

Despite the severity of the situation, their experience and trust in one another spoke volumes through their faith in each other's abilities. Where one lacked, another stood strong to assist. Everyone working to raise each other up, instead of tearing themselves apart. This was the heart of their family, this was the core of their shared being, and together they were going to show these overconfident lapdogs just who they were messing with. Vice Admirals or not, the Marines were in over their heads, and each one of the crew was going to take great pleasure in proving how far the soldiers were out of the depth. Together as one, they would hold strong as they always have and always will. 

“Come, let's show these fools who they’re messing with.” Belmanco laughed, the groups exchanging a series of familiar looks before turning to the chuckle that slipped from their captain’s lips. Whitebeard shaking his head at the bunch before lifting his massive weapon towards the oncoming ship. 

“Honestly boys, you’re pirates, not butterflies. Now shape up and get to work, we’ve got a show to put on.” Newgate grinned, his signal triggering a chain reaction as the commanders started to rapidly shout orders and scatter the massive crew to their battle stations. The three groups getting to work as they started to make their way to where they were needed. Marco taking to the beach, while Thatch led the way for the rescue group across the water. Each one arriving just as the first of the cannons rang through the air. The sound echoing in the hollow of your chest while you tried to find your footing amongst the rocking of the ship. 

Across from you, Doberman scowled at the diffusion of bodies over the battlefield. His voice bellowing through the air as he spat orders to his men. Momonga mirroring his actions while the two began to cover their bases with a massive show of force. Your eyes glued to where the initial cannonball exploded along the shoreline. Panic rising in your tears before Vista took to slicing the next cannonball in half. The resounding halves easily deflected by Juzo as the group of four began to divert the oncoming assault with practiced ease. Marco’s azure flames sparking a happy sob to tremble from your shaking lips… stupid show-offs. 

Yet, your relief was short-lived as the elegant ringing of a sword being drawn from its sheath brought you back to the man before you. His merciless eyes piercing straight through your joy while he lifted his blade to your wavering frame. Every hair along your arms standing on end as the image before you took you back to the face that haunted your dreams. The bitter cold of the heartlessness that lay in those eyes, contrasting with the heat of the memories bathed in fire. He was the same as the man you once called authority, and in those war-torn orbs, you knew you would find no sanctity. This wasn’t a game, if you took a single wrong move, you would be run through. Playtime was over. 

Reaching the ship, Ace and Haruta were the first over the sides. The raven’s flames licking through the air while Thatch and Kingdew also made their entrance and dove into the fray of battle. Ace doing his best to keep his fire from burning the whole of the ship as the others fought through the crowds of soldiers. Their appearance causing a wave of irritation to wash over Doberman’s face while he once again tried to snare you. Your frame ducking centimeters out of reach while you resisted the urge to faint from the sea stone. Every movement putting a strain on your body as you did your best to buy enough time for the rescue party to reach you. Your eyes desperately flashing between the Admiral and the others while they slowly began to make headway against the masses of bodies. The slight division in your focus being enough of an opening for the marine to finally succeed in landing a blow. Steal stinging brightly across your bicep as the deck once again caught your weakening frame. 

Screwing your eyes shut with a hiss, you pulled your hand back from the wound far enough to register the crimson that dripped from the cut. The sword having found its mark, yet slicing just shy of any major blood vessels. Enough to hurt, but not deep enough to do any lasting damage…Because you know, it wasn’t like this was already hard enough!

Glaring up at the man, Doberman let a wide grin blossom over his features.

“Had enough Caladrius?” He smirked, his blade shifting to rest at his side while you scowled up at him. “I can’t imagine that running around with that band on feels very good.”

“You wish, low life.” You panted, the exertion of trying to dodge the man’s attacks quickly catching up to you as the two of you spat at one another. The sea stone effectively sapping every ounce of energy from your body while you tried to remain in control of your exhausted legs. Your muscles shuddering at the effort it took simply to stand, let alone keep ducking the oncoming sword. 

“Hmm, still have some fire left in you? I’m impressed. Even the most masterful of Devil fruit users generally succumb to the stones' effects within minutes.” Doberman laughed, the man taking another stab in your direction as you rolled out of the way and leaned against the railing. Using the sturdy object to help steady yourself enough to attempt standing. 

“Yeah well…” You panted, gritting your teeth and straining your core until your feet were once again under you. Your eyes narrowing darkly at the Admiral as he watched your struggle in humor. “… I’m not like most Devil fruit users. But, then again… you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” You sneered, lunging forward and away from the next slash of the blade. 

Lifting your gaze from the planks, you glanced over your shoulder to where the sword lay embedded in the thick railing. Your arms trembling like a glass of water in an earthquake as you pushed your body up again. Every life-sucking action pulling you closer to the darkness beginning to edge your vision. Your time running short to finish this. 

“You don’t know me, witch. You don’t know the anguish I endured burying the countless bodies that lay in the wake of you and your master's path! The never-ending tears of the families I consoled because of your selfish and deadly actions!” He growled, your eyes rising to meet his as you stood firm at his next advance. 

“You’re right, I don’t…” you huffed, the Admiral pausing while you remained unmoving towards his raised sword. “But you are wrong if you think you were the only one to mourn the lives lost…” 

Feeling his eyes widen, Doberman quickly let his gaze harden as he plunged his blade in your direction. Your own eyes growing in size as you twisted to avoid the shot. Only to then find yourself tipping enough to miss the staircase behind you. Your body drifting through the air towards the main deck, where the primary scuffle was raging. Everything moving in slow motion as bodies lunged in your direction and the pull of the abyss lay claim to your conscious mind. 

Skidding just in time to catch your falling figure, Ace felt the pressure of your body against his as he was flung back at the force. His eyes quickly scanning for life before he let out a relieved sigh at the sight of your chest steadily rising. You were still alive. Yet, feeling the drain of the sea stone against his flesh, Ace was quick to lay you flat on the deck. His flames skillfully clearing a big enough radius around you for Thatch and Haruta to rush in beside him. 

“Come on (Y/n)!” Ace panted, the raven gently shaking your shoulders before ducking away from a stray flying bullet. “Crap, I can’t get her up!” He panicked, Thatch quickly moving him aside to look over your still frame. 

“Not surprising. Sea stone is some pretty powerful stuff. Stand back.” He growled, Kingdew diverting a wave of oncoming soldiers with Haruta as the two exchanged worried glances with one another. 

“Hurry up Thatch! We can’t keep them back forever!” Kingdew grunted, physically flinging one of the soldiers into the line of bodies surrounding them. 

“Working on it!” The cook snapped, lifting his blade and taking aim as he took a swing at the cuff on your wrist. The metal ringing out with a pitiful wail before it snapped open and dropped to the wooden planks of the deck. Your body letting out a long breath in response but remaining still against the rock of the cannons. 

“Now what!?” Ace frowned, watching while Thatch kicked the bracelet over the edge and leaned back down to your frame. His hands tracing your face as he tried to figure out how to get you up. 

“Come on Sweetness, get up…come on-” Pausing in his actions, Thatch took note of the red staining through your shirt. His eyes narrowing on the cut while he grimaced up at the raven. “Think you could cauterize the wound?” He asked, Ace hissing at the idea before nodding his head and moving to your injured arm. His onyx eyes filling with unease as he exchanged a single anxious look with Thatch. Either of them enjoying the idea of the pain this was about to cause you. But what other choice did they have? You needed to get up, if you didn’t you would be a sitting duck.

“Sorry (Y/n),” Ace withered, turning his gaze to the side as his hand made contact with your skin, and the distorted smell of burning flesh forced your eyes open. Your agonizing scream bathing the ship in a second of piercing silence as it shattered the rhythm of battle and ripped violently across the gathering’s eardrums. Everything pausing for the briefest of moments while you clutched at the sensitive wound and tried to breathe through the waves of scorching pain. Your eyes having quickly shut after opening, and your mind desperately trying to grip the situation at hand. Flashes of reality twisting with memories until a gentle touch at your shoulder pulled your tear-filled gaze to soft brown eyes. Thatch by your side as the intense agony began to numb into bitter understanding. 

“…Thatch?” You whimpered, Ace also entering your vision while the two smiled back at you and helped you to stand. 

“Yeah, sorry about that Sweetness, but this isn’t the time for sleeping… you alright?” He asked, Ace shying away from reaching out as you whined at the still blazing irritation that burned fervently around your cut. 

“I. I think so.” You gritted, your (e/c) gaze shifting from the wound to where Ace stood nervously watching you. Your eyes softening with warmth as you quickly pulled him into a tight hug. The interaction abruptly ending when Haruta and Thatch blocked a series of well-aimed attacks. 

“Could you two maybe save it for later?” Haruta scowled, his blade cutting back against the enemy as Thatch laughed. “You know, for when we aren’t fighting for our lives?” 

“So Tuesday then?” Ace teased back, the two grinning at one another before the freckled commander let his flames engulf his arms. The heat effortlessly warming your body at how close he stood beside you. 

Feeling your smile grow, you couldn’t believe they had the gull to joke at a time like this. Your eyes scanning over the battle-torn ship to take in the numerous bodies that lay scattered across the main deck. Each of them reminding you of a time when you had faced down the Marines before. Except unlike now, the bodies had rested perfectly still with unmoving chests. While the group was doing their best to rescue you, you felt reassured by the sight that they had only used the force necessary to obtain you instead of just cutting down everyone in their path like your old master would have. 

You had, in fact, escaped once before and sought help from a group of soldiers much like this. The resulting battle had left you more than emotionally raw as your captain had slaughtered and slowly tortured every member of the crew. Even going as far as to cut them down while you watched on in horror, pinned to the deck by a sea stone net. His actions engraved in your mind and shattering your spirit as you, at last, came to terms with the dark power you were surrounded by. No matter where you went or who you found to help you, he would slay them all to reinforce his claim over you. If you truly wanted to keep people alive, you had to completely submit to his control…and so you did. 

That day had been the day when all of your hope had died, and you surrendered to your fate. The memory being one of many you had of the man and his cruelness. His heartlessness now mirrored in the eyes of the Admiral that pushed through the crowd towards your figure. Much like your old master, Doberman was not of the forgiving nature. They were two men cut from the same personality that stood on opposite sides of the line between right and wrong. Perhaps that was why you stood ready to face him. Your body moving to meet the man halfway as the battle surged in the background. You had let a man like him control your life once before, but never again would you let the likes of this cruelty govern your being. Your actions were your own, and you were free to face your demons with glowing retribution for the hell they put you through. 

Slipping under the blade, you let your body twist skillfully out of the way of the gleaming weapon. Your movements much more fluid now that you no longer carried the weight of the sea stone on your wrist. Energy once again flowing freely through your veins in the form of your hauntingly alluring glow while you rapidly dipped and swayed between the surging bodies. Bullets skimming past your frame as your eyes remained focused on your opponent, and you used your agility to keep just out of reach. This wasn’t over yet, not by a long shot. 

“You may have dropped your band, but do not think that will give you enough leverage to escape me.” Doberman snarled, his voice brimming with anger while he took another missed stab in your direction. Your arms already having morphed into wings as you used the lighter bone structure of your half-shifted form to give you extra speed in avoiding his attacks. 

“I’m not trying to escape you.” You snapped back, ducking low before rolling to stand again. Your wings glittering like stars against the darkness of battle. “Unlike you, I don’t run from a fight…” 

Letting his lip curl, the man rushed you. The two of you weaving in a deadly dance of dexterity while Thatch and the others worked on clearing a path back towards the Moby. Muzzle flashes decorating the far horizon and harmonizing with the other sections of the war being waged between Newgate, Momanga, and the villagers. The sight of your beautiful glow fueling the war around you with new energy as Marco and the others looked to your light with hope. This fight was just getting started, and neither side was about to give in. 

“You can not continue to deny your actions!” He spat, his sword coming to cut inches from your side as you twirled out of reach. “You will answer for what you have done and the lives you ruined! And if it's the last thing I do, I will see you rot behind bars for your crimes!”

“I never wanted to hurt anyone!” You countered, dodging the next attack before letting the glow of your devil fruit fade and your arms to return to normal.

“Hurt? You killed hundreds of innocent people! Dozens of my men! Entire towns and convoys fell to the plagues you spread! Women, children, elderly, all of them perishing to the nameless illnesses you brought!” Doberman snarled, lunging forward as you skillfully picked up a blade to defend yourself. The sound of the clashing steel ringing loudly across the battle-ridden ship. 

“I didn’t have a choice!” You shouted, the anger and guilt starting to form tears at the corners of your eyes as you once again remembered the faces of the countless villagers who had tried to help you before. 

“We all have choices, and you made yours.” He growled, your gaze hardening as you locked blades with the Marine. Behind you, Ace and the others did their best to make headway. Marco and Juzo diverting as much of the cannon fire as they could while the villagers provided cover fire along the beach. Their distant voices fading to the white noise of battle. Each side, pushing hard to outmaneuver the other.

“Yeah? Well, I challenge you to find any seven-year-old, that when faced with the promise of being beaten and starved to death, doesn’t fall into line! It was kill or be killed, I didn’t have any other options! I did what I had to, to survive!” You cried, your hands trembling as the man leaned forward and knocked the sword from your hands. 

“Then I guess you should have died…” He glowered, the tip of his blade rising to your chest while you stared back at him. “Game over…” 

Lowering your gaze down the blade, you felt the world around you fall silent. Time standing still as the rhythmic beating of your heart filled your ears, and you found yourself in the peace of limbo. The battle a distant notion while you watched the turmoil of your mind flash helplessly between the glint of the cannon fire. Long lost faces, foreign laughter, and shame shimmering down the end of the sword to where you stood. The years of sacrifice bringing to life the depth of your emotions while you confronted the reflection of your tears in the polish of the blade. 

It felt hopeless. No matter what you tried, you couldn’t take back what you did. You couldn’t bring them back,  nor could you change what was beyond your grasp and control. But scanning the memories in your mirrored (e/c) gaze, you felt sanctity in knowing you could choose to make a difference now. You weren’t the same as you were, you weren't a monster, and you sure as hell weren’t helpless anymore. No, you had a voice, you had a choice, and it mattered! You mattered! And you were not about to just sit here and be reminded of how much suffering you went through as if it was nothing! You were not nothing, and you would never again allow yourself to base who you were on what others thought! 

Letting your eyes shut, you felt the weight of your past lift from your shoulders. Acceptance clearing the turmoil in your mind as the air around you shifted in intention. The shame and guilt giving way to the fire of your soul as it began to boil under the surface. Everything fading in perspective while determination filled your frame and your gaze, at last, lifted to meet the Admirals.

“I can not tell you of the suffering I too endured, through countless sleepless nights over my actions.” You frowned, your eyes heavy with regret and sadness. “I will not deny what I have done, but I won't run from it either.” You stated firmly. 

Taking a step, you felt the sting of the blade against your hand as you forced the sword away from your face. The bitter sorrow of your features shifting with anger as memories continued to plague your mind. “Eight years…They took eight years of my life from me! My family! My people! My ability to feel safe and trust others! They Took Everything!” You screamed, your voice shaking at the rage that still burned inside you. “…I didn’t perish at their hands, and I sure as hell won't fall to the likes of yours! Whether you accept it or not, we both cried the same tears of sorrow over those we lost and the things I did!” 

Veering back another foot, Doberman tried to read through the rapid changes in your personality. Where once he saw a fragile flower, now stood a stubborn and radiant woman. Your behavior dragging his mind back to that day on the ship when he had first seen your mournful sunken in eyes through the haze. The bruises and chains that littered not only your body but your mind, contrasting greatly with the carnage scattered around you. You had done so much damage and in his blindness, never once had anyone tried to reach you. Your lost appearance, equally as fueled by the fire back then as it was now. That wicked blaze once again reminding him of the anguish trapped within while your words settled in his mind.

“So do your worst, I can take it.” You sneered, the glow of your devil fruit resurfacing like a halo of holy fire around your frame as Doberman took several steadying steps. Your determination shocking the Admiral while the two of you replayed the turmoil you shared. 

Blinking at your reaction, Doberman watched the resolve in your eyes harden. His own strength rising to meet the ferocity of your gaze as he let the memories fade to the graves he had helped tend. 

“I intend to…”

Chapter Text

Chapter 18

Chapter Warnings: Language, Blood, Fighting

(Y/n)= Your Name

(E/c) = Eye Color

(H/c) = Hair Color 

(H/l) = Hair Length

Letting his talons slice through yet another of the loose cannons, Marco felt the drain of his powers. The energy it was taking to block the endless waves of projectiles was more than even his devil fruit could keep up with. However, looking to where Abe and Huxley stood barking orders to return fire, the blonde could not deny the pride he took in his exhaustion. Around him, people cheered and encouraged not only him, but his brothers, in their efforts. The sound of their voices spurring his wings to carry him higher as he once again diverted another stray aimed cannonball. Everything on the line while Vista and Belmanco continued to assist in protecting those scattered along the beach. The numerous holes in the sand, proof of their accomplishment at redirecting every one of the cannonballs aimed in their direction. 

Still, glancing over the war-ridden horizon, Marco found his eyes drawn to where the distant glow of your devil fruit lay. Thatch and the others, doing their best to secure your return to the Moby as you faced your demons. A single piercing scream enough to distract the commander from a fatally aimed cannon. The shot skillfully blocked by Juzo while the diamond man snapped up to where his brother sat floating. 

“Head in the game Marco!” 

Allowing his eyes to drift back to where the cannon had exploded against the defenses, Marco nodded his understanding. He would simply have to trust that at this moment, his brothers would be able to handle whatever was happening out of his reach. He was needed here to protect what you would sacrifice your life for. And if he let the village fall, he would have not only let his family down but all those he cared for. They were his allies now, and as much as he wished to sweep in and save you. Safeguarding this portion of your heart was just as vital to saving you, as clearing your path to freedom. A freedom he knew would no longer matter if you lost your home in the process. 

Ducking back, you let your feathers act as a shield against the oncoming attack. The fury and force of Doberman’s swings pressing you further into the fray of the battle around you. All the while Thatch and Haruta were both busily weaving between Ace and Kingdew’s powerful onslaughts. The Raven’s flames licking through the crowd in untamed bursts of energy. His abilities limited to a more defensive side as he tried to keep the masses from surging in on his family. The sanctity of his actions growing further from your reach while Doberman forcibly separated you from the others. Understanding coming seconds too late when the Admiral, at last, managed to isolate you by firmly gripping one of your wings and shoving you against the deck. Your head, smacking painfully on the planks while you let out a sharp yelp. 

“(Y/n)!” Thatch tried, his movement blocked by a new surge of bodies. “Shit…”

Feeling your vision spin, you tried to shake the sudden blur in your eyes. Your wings rising just in time to block another swing of the Admiral’s blade before you rolled safely away from the man. His blows quickly following your movements while Thatch pushed through the crowd to your defense. The next blow of the Marine’s blade ringing loudly against the steal of the commander's own saber. Unseen energy surging between the two as they stood evenly matched against one another.

“Stand aside scum. That monster isn’t worth protecting!”

“Sorry Admiral, no can do.” Thatch grinned, the cook lifting his cutlass to counter the man’s assault. “This one’s with us, and we don’t plan on letting you take her. Besides, she’s worth protecting to me… I owe her my life, and that's a debt I hope to repay someday.” 

“…Very well…than you and all the others shall lay with her in death.” Doberman scuffed, the Admiral readjusting his posture to take a more formal stance against the commander. Thatch mimicking the motion as the two faced each other down before beginning a type of deadly dance. Their sabers stabbing in quick, direct slashes across the air with wailing rings in a way that made the movements seem almost rehearsed. The rhythmic clang of their parry and ripostes echoing in your ears while you forced the world around you back into focus. Darkness giving way to clarity in time for you to watch the flash of red spill from Thatch’s side. The sight flooding your veins with adrenaline as light poured from your frame, and the deck was engulfed in an overpowering glow. 

Feeling the strength of your wings against the steel of the blade, you let your fully transformed silhouette fling the sword from the Admiral’s hands. Your (e/c) eyes glaring dangerously back at the man while he took in the picture of your outstretched wings. Ivory feathers spread wide to fully shield Thatch behind you while anger blazed brightly in the halo encasing your body. 

Taking a step back, Doberman narrowed his gaze as you continued to scowl in his direction. The glory of your power blinding those around you while the battle came to a sudden halt and all sheltered their gaze from your light. Enough was enough. It was one thing for the Admiral to raise his blade against you, but it was an entirely different matter to threaten those you loved. If it was the last thing you did, you were going to make this man regret the day he dared to harm your family. 

Rolling out from under your next dive, Doberman watched as your talons claimed another of his soldiers and tossed them overboard. Your actions having led to more than a dozen men being ripped from battle and left to the mercy of the waves below the ship. Those souls coming to include two lieutenants before you gave a wistful twist and dove on the deck once more. The Admiral watching as this time you flung your victim into a small cluster of men and sent all four to try their luck in the swells between the three massive vessels. His brow furrowing while you continued to dispatch any person that dared to venture too close to those you protected. Ace and Haruta helping Thatch to his feet while Kingdew proceeded to clear a path towards the opposite end of the ship where the Moby sat at war with Momonga. Your piercing gaze next fixed to the Admiral as his face was illuminated by cannon fire. 

Using the draft from the sea, you let your wings carry you higher. Your glowing form glittering through the skies as you plunged on the masses and dropped your talons low. The sharp spikes digging into their intended target while Doberman braced against the attack and swung at your core. Pain radiating through both of you before you split apart and swirled away from his next blow. Your dance with the Admiral lasting until the man was able to firmly catch one of your outstretched claws and slam you to the deck. At which point you felt the wind leave your frame and your devil fruit falter. Your wings shifting to limbs while you weakly tried to lift your chest from the planks you landed on and glared back at the Marine. 

“Had enough witch?…” He huffed, his breathing labored as you hoisted your head from between your arms and scowled. 

“…have you?” You countered, eyes flickering to the deep cuts dripping crimson across his uniform. Your talons having found their mark more than once when it came to the destructive promenade. 

“If you think this is enough to stop me…think again.” He sneered, hand striking out to grip the collar of your shirt and lift you from the ground. Your toes hanging loosely over the deck while you gripped the man's arm to keep from being choked by the fabric covering your torso. Everything seeming to slow before a familiar sound rang through the air. 

“How about ‘this’ then?” Thatch smirked, the cook standing with the others on the opposite end of the vessel where they had managed to clear a path for reinforcements to board. The faces of the many souls who you had spent long hours working alongside under the sun staring back at you with determination and eagerness. Each one itching for a fight while Momonga’s ship continued to fall under assault by Whitebeard’s powerful attacks. 

With the distance finally closed, it had only been a matter of time before the pirates were able to overrun and overpower both vessels. The Moby at last sailing near enough to safely allot for her crew to jump ship to your aid while still maintaining enough distance for Whitebeard’s assaults to be effective. Momonga doing his best to redirect the blows as his crew was sent flying across the deck and over the opposite railing. The water below the three ships a whirlpool of commotion and struggling bodies. 

Turning his angry scowl in Thatch’s direction, Doberman locked eyes with Momonga as he stopped another of Newgate’s destructive waves. The two badly outmatched now that the vessel was infiltrated. All eyes landing on the two while Whitebeard paused in his attack to stare down the two Vice Admirals. 

“Enough is enough brats, you’ve lost.”

Scuffing back at the Yonko, Doberman was about to answer when Momonga’s voice cut in to speak over the silence that fell across the war zone. 

“So it would appear… Take your victory while it lasts Newgate. Your time to rule is coming to an end. Not even you can escape age forever.” Momonga frowned, the sound of Whitebeard’s laugh defusing the building tension as Doberman snarled at the exchange. 

“I won’t stand by this… you may have won the battle, but this is far from over scum!” He spat, his grip tightening while you were brought back to the reality of your situation. Doberman lifting a pistol from his belt to aim in your direction as you beat your fist against his hold on your collar. The action proving ineffective while panic filled your eyes and the sound of the shot rang out over the gathering. People standing in shock at the sight of your falling frame as the seconds stretched out like hours until you felt a familiar warmth envelope your body. The pain you had expected strangely replaced by comfort as you slowly opened your (e/c) orbs to see azure flames. Light dancing over your skin while Marco stood shielding you from the barrel of the gun. His face twisted with a dark smirk and chest blazing to life where the bullet had hit the mark but failed to leave any lasting damage. 

“Now now, no one likes a sore loser yoi.” Marco all but hummed, Doberman taking a step back as he regarded where you now lay behind the commander. Your frame almost fully blocked by his blazing wings and healing by the second while his flames flickered over your skin. The pain of forming bruises fading to stiff muscles and the many cuts littering your body seeming to melt away under the blonde’s power. He had lost. 

Turning from the phoenix, Doberman scowled back at the group. His anger only just contained within his restraint while he, at last, seemed to accept his defeat. 

“You can try and run Caladrius, but know I'll find you. And next time, your ‘friends’ won't be around to save you. Then we’ll see who you really are, witch…” He threatened, his words echoing bitterly in your mind as you continued to hold his gaze. The dark implications of his intimidating promise, holding your attention long after you returned to the Moby and the two vessels vanished into the far horizon. Light transfixing your gaze with fear and your mind racing with endless ‘what ifs’. The sight of your mournful eyes digging at Marco as his brothers pulled you from your trance with a bittersweet smile. They had won this time, but Doberman was right… next time they might not be as lucky. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 19

Chapter Warnings: None

(Y/n)= Your Name

(E/c) = Eye Color

(H/c) = Hair Color 

(H/l) = Hair Length

Sitting beside Thatch on the beach, you watched Marco’s flames glide over the cook’s wound. The ugly cut healing to a tender bruise under the blonde's actions, all while you sat in the aftermath of the day's battle. Destruction lining your peripherals as you continued to stare after the injury on the commander's side without truly, seeing the picture in front of you. The distance in your (e/c) gaze, an unspoken worry between the two men while you patiently waited for Marco to finish. 

Around you, the bodies of many others lay in wait of attention as the severity of the attack became evident in the dawn’s light. The darkness of night now giving way to the shadows of remorse that cascaded through your very being. They had gotten hurt, almost died, trying to protect you and those you loved. The implication of their actions weighing heavily on your mind as Marco, at last, finished tending to Thatch’s injury and the two stood to test out his range of motion. 

Carefully tracking the stretch and twist of the cook’s body, you felt little reassurance at seeing the wound remain closed. The laceration seeming to cause only minor discomfort now that the Phoenix’s powers had mended the damage. And yet, regardless of this fact, you found your hand gently stretching out to graze over the opaque bruise left behind upon his skin. Your timid touch, easily caught by the commander as he lifted your fingers to his lips and placed a thoughtful kiss over the back of your knuckles. The tender motion causing tears to fill your (e/c) eyes before you found yourself pulled into a warm embrace. Everything catching up with you while Thatch let your head rest upon his chest. His chin lowering to settle atop your crown with soft understanding as the fear melted away with his words. The gentle sound of his voice calling through the torment that plagued your mind and grounding you in the reality of the night's events. 

“It was just a cut Sweetness, nothing to fret over.” He reassured you, your voice trembling in reply as you tried to erase the image of him lying bloody on the deck of the Marine’s ship from your memory.

“Bu.t you c.could have…” you started, unable to finish at the thought of losing him or any of the others you had so quickly come to love. 

“Yeah, I could have…but so could have you.” He smiled, gently lifting your eyes to meet his with an endearing grin. Your brow furrowing while he continued to softly beam back at you. “You saved me once before. Therefore, it's only fair that I repay your actions in kind.” 

Pulling back a few inches, your gaze shifted from worry to irritation in a matter of seconds. The cook, internally enjoying the fire that burned in your eyes at his words and fought back against his actions. Your spirit flaring under the surface and swiftly overtaking your fear with passion while he watched your caring nature pull your frown deeper.

“Well, you don’t repay something like that by getting yourself killed!” You shouted, the brunette allowing a rich laugh to roll from his lips at your declaration. “I was worried sick! I thought you had been seriously hurt!”

“Half an inch deeper, and I would have been.” Thatch joked, your palm coming to firmly slap over his torso at the audacity he had to keep jesting over the matter. 

“It's not funny, Thatch! You could have-” You began, your sentence cut short by a tight squeeze as the commander once again firmly squished you to his mass. Your arms falling stiffly to your side before you allowed them to softly wrap around the warmth in front of you. 

“Yes, I could. And I also could have gone a million other ways in a billion different instances of life (Y/n)!” He smirked. “But that is life, nothing is guaranteed, and so you must live each moment as if it is your last.”

Wiggling far enough back to dolefully gaze back at that man, you felt a familiarity in the message that spilled from Thatch’s lips. His words similar to those you had heard long ago within the comfort of your home, beside another man you highly respected. Noel glimmering through the cook's eyes as you let his voice resonate within your mind. 

“I’ve seen and ventured far enough in my lifetime to know that I don’t want to carry any more regrets with me than I have to. And Sweetness, if I had lost you, knowing that I was capable of trying to assist you, but stood by and watched you fall… I’m not sure that I would have the strength to carry such a tremendous disgrace for any length of the time I have left.” He said softly, both of your gazes a matching set of whirlpools as emotions ran rampant between you. “You are someone worth fighting for, and I would gladly give my last breath to see you continuing to be free. To smile that gorgeous smile of yours, and to keep making this world a better place, one heart-stoppingly beautiful laugh at a time.” 

Feeling your tears overflow the corners of your eyes, you didn’t have the words to even begin to argue with him. Your voice becoming trapped within the tightness that enveloped your throat while you shook your head with astonishment. Who said things like that? Moreover, how could he say it with such ease? As if he actually believed every sentence he spoke! … Yet, looking into the warmth of his eyes, you knew he truly did.

These words weren’t just pretty lies spoken to make you feel better. Thatch, and all those around you who had paused to watch the exchange, whole-heartedly felt this way. Their affectionate smiles and loving grins helping to free the emotions trapped within your soul as waterfalls of comfort found their way to the sand beneath your toes. The shine of the dawn illuminating the glow of your happiness and encasing the moment in its orange hues of perfection. 

How you ever got so incredibly lucky was well beyond you. But how fortunate you must have been to be able to stand here and hold your new friend one last time. To know what could have been, and yet beating the odds to stand side by side with those you cared for... You felt so very fortunate indeed.  

And yet, even now, as Thatch moved to allow Marco to dry your tears, you felt conflict remain twisted in your heart. You were overjoyed to see them all safe, but did all of ‘this ’ now change what was? 

It was evident you would be needed here to help repair the damages done to your village. And in contrast, in order to remain safe, it was also apparent that Newgate and his sons could no longer linger on your shore. The sanctity of the bay, now as broken as the buildings that were scattered across its beaches. A fact that cut painfully across your heart despite the warmth seeping into your flushed cheeks at Marco’s gentle touch. 

No matter how you wished to keep them with you, you could no longer ensure their safety within the village. Which unfortunately meant that, much like before, you would still be faced with the longing pain of seeing them go. These last few fleeting seconds of content peace, just another illusion for you to face once they departed for protected waters.

Blinking away the feeling of Marco’s fingers over your features, you couldn’t help but lean longingly into his touch. It wouldn’t be long now, within the next few hours you knew this sentiment would be something you could only grasp in your dreams. Dreams you were certain would haunt you with regrets and desires more fierce than any nightmare could ever hope to be. 

So then, was it truly wrong that you let your hand lift to his? To press it ever so more roughly against your skin in hopes that your cheek would remember his warmth more fervently… Or was it perhaps just your last attempt at severing the bond that had grown between you and him? Whatever the case, the motion caused a bittersweet understanding to wash over the phoenix’s eyes as he leaned down to place one last kiss on your lips. Your lingering breath and fluttering lashes chasing after his warmth as he pulled away and distance was put between you… this was it, wasn’t it? 

Turning to those still gathered in clusters along the beach, you saw the mournful awareness carried by the implications of your actions. Everyone knowing without words what was to come next… this was goodbye, a final and bitter goodbye. 

Then again, didn’t all farewells feel like this? As if you were parting with a portion of your heart. Sending a piece of your soul along with those you would miss in hopes of one day being able to see them again. Or was this one special? 

Standing on the beach as they boarded their ship, you weren’t sure when you had last felt sorrow so consuming that it left you numb to those around you. Huxley and the others fading into the static of the wind that filled their sails to carry them from your arms. Everyone waiting for your wings to take you after them. And yet, as the minutes ticked by, hope faded into grim understanding while you stood frozen in place. Your figure unmoving against the galing breeze and icy tide that pulled you to follow. Loyalty for the first time in your life, causing conflict where it generally provided clarity. 

… Why? 

Why did it hurt so much that it felt like nothing at all? … 

Lingering by the water's edge just long enough to see the distant shadow of the Moby vanish into the far horizon, you were surprised at how slowly time appeared to pass around you. The warm hues of early morning giving way to the brilliance of the afternoon while others busied themselves with the numerous repairs needed for their homes. Minutes ticking by like hours as you, at last, turned from the shore and helped aid in the restorations required by the myriad of villagers. Their requests assisting you with distractions from the obvious dismay that followed you from building to building. That was, until a small gray object in the sand caught your attention while you finished removing a layer of debris from a woman’s doorway. The minuscule aversion to your activities, enough to finally snap your brain out of its autopilot.

Bending down to pick the item up, you let the chill of the bullet rest heavily against your palm. Your eyes glued to the musket ball as it rolled freely over the lines of your hand and took your thoughts to a distant place. The absent-minded glaze in your features drawing the focus of someone you had always come to rely on. Her weathered hand and silver hair breaking your stare as you let your (e/c) eyes lift from the cold of the bullet to the warmth in her knowing smile. 

“…It just seems so out of place…” You whispered, Huxley’s smile only growing with fondness at the softness of your tone. Everything about your wavering features telling her what she needed to know before even you were aware of what was to come. 

“It's not the only thing my dear.” She spoke gently, her volume lowering to match yours but holding more certainty. “Strange isn’t it?” 

Raising a brow, you tilted your head in confusion as Mrs. Huxley paused before deciding to further enlighten you. 

“That such a small thing can have such a big effect on someone’s life. One tiny little piece of molded metal holding the power to govern a life if so wished by the wielder… A substance of the earth so out of place amongst nature, that it seems to stick out in the soil.” She explained. Her words, while straightforward in execution, holding a more cryptic meaning behind them. A message you tired, and were failing, to decode in her gaze. 

Turning back to the bullet, you watched the glare of the sun above you glitter off of the rounded edges of the tiny ball. The chill of the metal slowly warmed against your skin as you tried to find the significance in its existence within this moment. What did she mean by that?  ‘A substance of the earth so out of place amongst nature, that it seems to stick out in the soil’  Were you supposed to be the bullet? Did you stick out? 

“I… I don’t understand,” You sighed, Huxley’s hand coming to close yours around the clump of metal with a gentle smile. 

“That’s alright,” She grinned, your eyes once again finding hers while you shrugged. “You will when it's important.” She reassured you. “Now tell me why this bullet troubles you.” 

“It’s not that it troubles me really. It just seems out of place…” You frowned, Huxley raising a single brow before pushing for you to dig deeper. 

“And why do you say it is out of place? Does it not belong here where it was aimed? It was shot in this direction with purpose, so why does it seem to not belong here?” She questioned, her words, as perusal, forcing you to face the emotions you wished to keep buried. 

“Well, just because this is where someone wanted the bullet to be, doesn’t mean it belongs here. It's a musket ball, it doesn’t match the grains of sand around it.” You huffed, slightly annoyed by the elder’s probing. 

“Is that so?” She pushed back, her grin shifting to a smirk as you got closer to the point of understanding.

“Yes!” You all but glared. “It sticks out because it belongs somewhere else, with others… like it.” 

Feeling your voice fizzle out, your eyes widened and you opened your palm to look at the musket ball. You were the bullet…she was right. 

“Hmm, you are indeed correct. The bullet does appear to be out of place in that aspect… And I suppose in that way, you and it are very similar. Both very powerful in your own rights, but not truly at home in the sand under your bodies.” She mused, her words digging deeply into your mind as you closed your fist and settled your bum on the beach. You knew what she was getting at, but that didn’t make it any easier to face. 

Frowning gently at your actions, Huxley also seated herself in the sand and let her hand rest on your arm. Your (e/c) eyes lifting to her weathered ones as time once again slowed around you and you were absorbed into the tender love of her gaze. Her other hand coming to take the bullet from your palm so that she could mindfully hold it in her own. 

“You came to us in much a similar way as this musket ball. A single small being, launched onto our shore in an act of violence and anger. You were powerful and dangerous, holding a deadly promise if aimed with foul intentions. And yet, when the smoke cleared and we could see you for who you were, you were no longer some horrid weapon made to frighten us. You were simply a mislaid little ball of metal that without the influence of a barrel, had lost its gunpowder to fight… Still just as threatening if given a spark, but always just as out of place amongst the sand.”

Feeling your features soften with understanding, you watched as Huxley handed you back the bullet. Her fingers lifting under your chin until you could hold her gaze with the same amount of fondness she blinked back at you. Everything raw and open between the two of you as her eyes hardened after a moment of appreciation. Your own gaze filled with uncertainty while you emotionally braced for what was to come. This wasn’t going to be something you wanted to hear, but without a doubt would be something you needed to be told. 

“You need to go after them.” She said firmly, her words decisive and precise. No longer holding their usual level of hidden secrets while she felt your muscles tense under her fingers. 

Blinking widely back at her, you ripped your face free and shook your head of the longing her suggestion brought. Everything tossed back into chaos as you tried to ride your mind of the desire to do as you were instructed and jump to the skies. The bullet in your hand suddenly clenched between the internal struggle you felt in this situation. Your voice bursting free as your irritation lit the fire of your soul back to life, and you glared at your elder. 

“Right, I’ll just abandon the people I love and who helped to raise me when I had nothing, for some pretty blue eyes and a group of …pirates.” You snapped, your tone dipping with pent-up frustrations. “ Because I’m sure that will help things here. And what happens if I leave and the navy comes back? Hmm, what then? You can’t just expect me to leave you and everyone else to the mercy of the wolves I lead to your door!?”

Listening to the hiss edging your voice, Huxley let your words lash against her with anticipated patience. Not that she had expected this to be simple, but she had perhaps been prepared for some level of resistance on your part. The venom in your tone, more or less what she had predicted would come of her saying such things. 

“When the navy returns, and they will.” Mrs. Huxley huffed, “We will be ready to face them as each of us has done before. We are not helpless or weak, but should you remain here, we will be.” She furrowed, her gaze fixing yours with an emotion you could guess was akin to mourning. The intensity of which, quickly quelled the fire of your annoyance and replaced it with remorse.

“You are one of our greatest weaknesses in life (Y/n), and as long as you continue to exist here within the shelter of our arms, you make us vulnerable to those who would see you harm.” She stated matter of factly. “When the navy returns, we will fight to defend your right to freedom, just as we did today.”

“… I never asked for you- Never wanted any of you to-” you tried, your voice failing you as you attempted to put your thoughts into words. Each try falling flat while Huxley smiled endearingly back at you and water pooled at the edge of your vision. Why was this so difficult to say!?

“I know child, but that is what love is. It's a two-way street. You can not give love as freely as you do, without knowing that it will, in turn, come back to you.” She shushed, her hand coming to your shoulder as you rubbed at your tears. 

“I don’t want to lose you! Any of you! I love each of you so much, and now it feels like I’m being torn in half!” You simpered, “ You gave me everything! Helped me find my way, find myself when I thought I was lost… You made me feel whole and safe and, and-” 

“Oh dear one, you aren’t going to lose any of us. We will always be here for you and with you in the memories you carry. You will never truly be without us…not ever.” She reassured you, her form coming to embrace yours while you clung to the comfort she provided. “But I simply can not allow you to stay confined here.”

“You…you want me to leave?” You questioned, pulling back far enough to look desperately back at the woman who had helped to raise you through all those years alongside Noel. 

“No, I want you to be free.” She smiled. “You are as spirited and precious as the power you hold. But birds don’t belong in cages, just as bullets do not belong in the sand.” 

Feeling your lip tremble, you buried your face in the warmth of your elder’s shawl. Your body melting to hers the way it had when you would seek comfort from thundering storms that sounded all too similar to the ringing of cannons. The reassurance of her hand at your back always helping to stabilize you against your emotions when they evolved into tide waves.

“You came to us broken and beaten, so we gave you the security you needed to recover. And every day, you surprised and surpassed every expectation we had of you. But this was never where you truly belonged, my dear one. You belong with your own kind, your birds of a feather. Creatures as strange and magnificent as you, with enough strength to fill you with the hope of life.” She grinned, her weathered gaze drifting for your shaking form to the distant horizon where she knew they lay. The faintest of tears also beginning to dance in her eyes at the thought of what must come to be. “And while it may take some time to get used to having an empty nest, nothing would bring this old hen more peace of mind than knowing her last chick was safely kept, with those who treasure her as much as she does. It's time for you to fly beautiful… your wings are no longer clipped, and your spirit is no longer caged. Just have faith in the journey my beloved, and make the jump… they’ll be there to catch you when you soar.”

Listening to her words, it felt like some portion of your heart that you had kept locked away for so long was finally freed. Your tears falling like rain while she held you close to her chest with quiet hushes and gentle back rubs. The people of your village also coming to kneel or sit beside you on the beach in a show of support as you let the pain of your past drip from your eyes and dry under the midday sun. This truly was goodbye, wasn’t it? Even if it wasn’t the one you had first thought it would be. 

But pulling back to gaze into the eyes of those you had known for most of your life, you felt complete in knowing…this, that they would always be here for you and forever in your soul. 

After all… family was eternal.

They may not have been the one you were born to, but they were the family you had found. A sanctuary of love and understanding that you would carry with you no matter where the wind took you in life. And nothing was ever going to change that, not even destiny itself. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 20

Chapter Warnings: Language and Fluff 

(Y/n)= Your Name

(E/c) = Eye Color

(H/c) = Hair Color 

(H/l) = Hair Length

Feeling the wind under your wings, you drifted over the open waves with a luminescent glow in your feathers. The breeze pulling you higher through the endless azure skies while the light of your memories guided you towards the freedom of an unknown future. Miles melting into minutes as the occasional tear blurred your vision just long enough for you to glimpse the picture of those you had grown to love waving after your retreating form from the beach. 

Thinking back over your life, it was hard not to miss what now lay behind you. The days spent exploring the island under Noel’s careful watch, or nights gathered at Mrs. Huxley’s table with Abe telling wide-eyed wanders tales, warming your chest until the emotions flowed freely from your eyes. And yet, it was perhaps the more bitter memories that truly gripped at the strings in your heart. Those long hours spent relearning that not every sound was a threat and that not every person was a danger, ripping painfully free from their chains within your soul. The sorrow and regret that you had held so close for so long, at last, falling away under the steady flap of your ivory wings. You were free. Free to choose the life you wanted, and free to choose happiness despite the longing in your mind. Ancestors only knew how much you would miss everyone, but never had you felt more liberated than you did in this moment. 

For the first time, it was as if the bonds of duty, of captivity, and responsibility, were truly gone. There was no master to answer to, no guilt tying you to a hollowed-out dream, or desperate yearning to make you accountable for those around you. You were free to make your own choices and set your own course. To fly wherever the wind allowed and damn the consequences. You were, for all purposes of the word, free. 

Blinking away another tear, you looked to the horizon and felt your heart flutter at the idea of being at peace with the world. Aside from the days of your childhood, when was the last time you didn’t care to look over your shoulder or worry about another? When was the last time you had allowed yourself to just be you? To glide through the velvet skies in the direction of your choosing without the pressure of knowing others needed you. You had always had something or someone to be wary of or worried about, but now? Now you were free to fuss over the one thing in life you had never allowed yourself to feel concern over, you. 

Feeling the power of your feathers lift you higher, you let yourself take a breath of air before allowing the tension to fade from your shoulders. It would be hard to leave behind so many fond and precious memories, but with the promise of what lay ahead, you knew you would make it. You were at last stronger than your fear, and nothing again would ever stand in your way of happiness, not even you. The joy of which, sent a trickle of bliss through your body from wingtip to tail.

This was it wasn’t it? This was what it felt like to release the bonds of the past, and finally look to the future with hope instead of dread. To let sleeping dogs lie and choose to be happy. This was the feeling of freedom from self-imposed restrictions, and guilt-ridden intentions no one expected of you. 

For so long, you thought that you had kept yourself hidden from the world in fear of what it had done. But looking back, perhaps the real reason you had stayed, was that you were scared of what the world could be. Too afraid of finding serenity in the thing you had long thought abandoned you to drown in the waves of its evils. Only to now see that it had always embraced and awaited your return to its endless skies. Love filling your soul while you spotted one of its promised treasures on the horizon. Life had not abandoned you, it had simply been waiting for you to take the leap. And as you raced through its liberty, you couldn’t help the spirited sound that filtered from your beak. The trilling song reaching across the distance to the ears of those you already longed to see. Their figures growing in clarity while you swiftly dove down next to the vessel and beamed back at the glowing faces that met you. 

Taking a lap, you let your wings carry you from one side of the ship to the other. Your frame gliding and spinning effortlessly over the many people gathering below before you drifted to allow Newgate’s outstretched hand to brush your talons. His arm lifting you higher while he laughed at your antics. Everyone enjoying your display as you danced about happily over their heads. The performance only coming to an end when you spotted the familiar tuft of blonde you had been searching for and dipped down to land. Your wings shifting as you felt Marco’s arms catch your falling frame. The momentum of your drop, easily redirected in a spin while he grinned back at your smiling face. Everything else fading away while you latched your arms around his neck and buried your face in the comfort of his embrace. You knew it had only been a handful of hours, but goddesses how you had already missed this. This feeling of belonging that came with the security of his touch. 

Yep, still felt amazing. 

Leaning back from the embrace, you took in the relaxed faces around you with curiosity. The crew's easy-going smirks causing you to lift a brow as they gathered closer to welcome you. Your eyes in particular landing on the expression Thatch and Ace shared when they shifted through the crowd of their crew members. 

“You don’t look like you’re surprised to see me?” you questioned, pulling far enough away to settle comfortably against Marco’s side while his hand wrapped around you to rest on your hip.

“Ah, well we figured you would show up, sooner or later,” Izo smirked, his grin fading with slight annoyance when Haruta quickly cut in.

“And seeing as it hasn’t even been twelve hours, you lose. Pay up, pretty boy.” The young commander demanded. Ace and Thatch, interjecting the exchange before the well-dressed man could cough up the berries owed.

“But if you recall, we bet on it taking less than eight.” The two smirked as both Haruta and Izo frowned back at them. 

“You placed bets on me joining you?!” You questioned in shock, Marco snickering beside you in good humor. 

“No, just on how long it would take for you to get here yoi… Which reminds me, I had six hours.” The blonde grinned, the bewilderment on your face quickly growing as Marco reached for the outstretched coins. 

“And here I was thinking she would have lasted at least a day.” Izo huffed, the rich laughter of Newgate drawing everyone’s attention just before the first division commander could claim his victory. 

“Indeed my sons, but it was I who placed the wagger on no more than five.” He informed them, the group collectively letting out a groan. 

“Crap, he did.” Ace frowned as Thatch shrugged. The cook collecting all of the berries before taking them to his captain. 

“Ooooh well, guess you can't win them all.” Thatch sighed, Newgate beaming down at his children with obvious pride. 

“You don’t get to this age without knowing a thing or two when it comes to hopeless lovesick individuals, Grahahahahah.” He laughed. 

“I can’t believe you bunch of riff-raff! I knew I should have just stayed on the beach!” you snipped, a beautiful red blush covering your features as the group of pirates had the nerve to laugh at the situation. I mean, who placed a bet like that? The rude little shi-

Pulling you into another embrace, Marco tugged you close to his chest with a daydreamy look. His eyes filled with more warmth than you had seen him capable of as he held you flushed against him.

“Don’t be too mad, they mean well.” He grinned, your lip puffing out ever so slightly at his words. 

“Even if they do, it's still mean.” you pouted, the blonde shifting his position to lean you both back for a kiss. His lips melting to yours until he was able to replace your adorable sulking, with a giggling smile. 

“Yeah, sorry about that. But what do you expect from a group of pirates, yoi?” He countered, your eyelids drooping to match the longing gaze the blonde was giving you. 

“Hmm, I suppose. However, now I have to ask.” You smiled playfully. “What would you have done if I hadn’t come?” 

“I don’t think you even have to ask,” he grinned, placing another tender and gentle kiss to your lips. “I wouldn’t have even made it a week yoi.” 

“Oh?” you hummed, breaking the kiss with a mischief-filled smirk. “And here I was thinking you wouldn’t have lasted three days.” you teased, the blonde quirking a brow before letting a hungry look wash over his eyes. 

“Yeah? Hmm, want to bet?” He taunted back, the two of you inching closer before the sound of a throat clearing brought you back to the group of shit-eating grins shared by the crew around you. Your face instantly flushing brighter than Ace’s flames while they started to laugh. 

“God, is it always going to be this way with you two?” Haruta famed, the young commander mimicking Ace as the two pretended to gag. 

“Jealous? I could always give you two the same attention if it's so bothersome.” Marco shot back, the two joining you in blushing as the group let out a round of laughter. The sound settling perfectly within your chest as a love-sick look overtook your features. Familiarity bursting through your smile, while the feeling of being complete brought a tear to your (e/c) eyes. Your body instinctively leaning deeper into your lover’s grasp as his gaze fell to you, and you both shared an understanding in the embodiment of this moment. Here together, at long last, you were whole. And what could possibly be better than that?

Were they perfect? No. They had cracks and flaws, just like you. Yet, it was those weird awkward edges that seemed to so effortlessly fit together and enveloped you in a sense of serenity. Their perfect imperfections, filling you with a love that one only felt within the safety of their chosen family. 

And it was here in this moment that you felt it. The pain was ending, and the past was healing, one blissful second after the other as you stood in the majesty of your one true belonging. Their light, shattering the darkness of your worst nightmares with love while you enjoyed the fulfillment of your most desired and wished for dream…your frigilest hope at long last coming true.

… You were home…. finally home. 
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