Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There had long been rumors and tales circulating about an island in the East Blue. People talked about the home of monsters, hiding beside a prosperous, perfect kingdom. They whispered about animals that would be better suited to the wilds of the Grand Line and dense jungles not fit for humans to enter. They heard tales of raging flames and mountains of garbage and the “human filth” who lived among them.

Many members of the Whitebeard pirates had been curious about Dawn Island for years, and Pops had finally decided it was worth visiting. Thatch and Haruta were particularly excited. Thatch loved cooking new animals and Haruta was always interested in gossip. Marco was curious for a different reason. Pops had always brushed off any rumors or requests from his children regarding Dawn before, after all.

There were things Marco knew about Dawn that the others didn’t. He knew there was some truth to the “home of monsters” aspect if nothing else. Dawn Island was the birthplace of Monkey D. Garp, Hero of the Marines. Garp, who had been sullen and subdued for the past few years. Garp, who Pops was worried about, even if no one but Marco managed to pick up on it. If he thought there was a connection between the two, well, he could keep it to himself. Marco was the Commander of the First Division, he was first mate to Whitebeard himself. He was Pops’ support. His younger siblings didn’t need to know the details when they could be having fun exploring a long-pondered mystery.

The days passed in easy speculation amongst the crew. The East Blue wasn’t a short trip from the New World by any means, but there were shortcuts that could be taken, and they knew the best ones.

When the Moby approached a port outside the walls of Goa, the townspeople didn’t seem afraid. They stared, but none of them seemed anything more than cautious. Maybe they’d had good experiences with pirates before. Maybe they were just confident in their safety as citizens of Garp’s hometown. A short man in a red-striped bucket hat was waiting for them when they docked.

“I am Woopslap, the mayor of this town. What business brings you to Foosha?” he asked.

Marco stepped forward to answer, but he stopped short in surprise when Pops spoke instead. “Curiosity,” he answered. They stared at each other for a moment before Woopslap conceded with a nod of his head, stepping aside. He couldn’t have stopped them and they all knew it, but it was a symbolic gesture. The Whitebeards were welcome so long as they didn’t stir up trouble.

Thatch and Haruta grabbed him by the arms and dragged him impatiently off the ship. He rolled his eyes but went easily. The others all spread out, deciding to explore or mingle with the townsfolk. Marco was led straight toward the dense foliage ahead of them. It was certainly an odd topography for the weakest blue: a thick jungle on a large mountain sitting just beyond a quaint port town.

He noticed Pops alone was sticking around. Marco saw him slip into a place called “Party’s Bar,” and then he lost sight of him through the trees.

He sighed and faced forward so he could look where he was going. He didn’t trust his brothers not to drag him over a tree root to trip him as punishment for not paying enough attention to them. The plants were wild and untamed around them. There wasn’t much of a path through them once they got further in. There was also no shortage of wildlife in the forest around them. Marco paused just before his brothers did. They all sensed it coming with their haki, but they still reeled back from the sight of the massive bear that stepped out in front of them, roaring mightily.

Thatch grinned, widely enough that Marco thought it might hurt, and he killed it quickly, jabbering about all the meals he could create with bear meat and the best way to go about preparing it. He dragged its body to Haruta and tossed its weight fully onto him without a word. Haruta squawked but made no further complaint. Marco should have known that Thatch brought them along as pack mules.

It was when they started heading back, after Thatch had successfully and delightedly recruited them to carry various meats back for dinner, that Marco saw it. It was a worn-down, poorly constructed treehouse in the middle of the jungle. It was a strange sight. He wasn’t surprised that the townspeople steered clear of the mountain, it would be deadly for the average East Blue citizen, so why was there a children’s treehouse here? He felt drawn to it for some reason.

He waved off Thatch and Haruta’s questions as he climbed the ladder and ventured inside. The ladder was unstable and loose, but it held. He worried for a moment as the floorboards creaked beneath his weight, but those didn’t break either. Marco was tall enough that he had to crouch down inside to avoid hitting his head. It wasn’t a huge treehouse, but the room felt spacious enough. There was dust coating every surface, except at the entrance—presumably where Marco had already disturbed it. Beetles crawled around in the corners of his vision. There were three rusty, bent pipes propped up in one of the corners. Similarly, there were three ragged, torn, and moldy blankets and pillows in the center of the room. A long time ago, this was someone’s home. Three someones’.

This place felt sad, almost. It was weird. He felt like something was missing. It gave him a sense of nostalgia, but he’d never even been to this island before, so it shouldn’t. Then Haruta and Thatch were beginning to call up to him again, telling him to hurry up and asking him what he was even doing. Marco wasn’t listening though. Instead, he was looking at a dusty straw hat, placed atop a table in the center of the room. A place of honor. This was familiar in a different way. In a specific way. They called for him again, impatient, and he grabbed it on a whim before leaving. He wasn’t sure why yet, wasn’t sure where he recognized it from, but he could think about it later. For now, he had a pair of annoying brothers to shut up and dinner to carry back.

He didn’t put it on. It felt wrong somehow, so he shifted all the weight Thatch burdened him with to one arm and gently held the hat in the other.

“What the hell was that about?” Thatch asked. Morco didn’t answer, staring down at the hat in his hand and turning it idly. “Marco? Hey. Hey, Marco. Did you find anything?”

“What’s with the hat?” Vista asked. “It looks like junk.” Thatch laughed when Vista tripped almost immediately after the words left his mouth.

Marco listened to them arguing behind him, but he didn’t offer any answers. He wasn’t really sure himself. His actions almost didn’t feel like his own. He could see his brothers sneaking glances at him between gibes. The little gossips would undoubtedly spread the word the moment they got back to the ship and thought Marco couldn’t hear them.

When they got back to the Moby, most of the crew was already there. He doubted many of them did more than stretch their legs ashore. Foosha was a small village and there wasn’t much to do there. There was a bar, sure, but Pops was already there and they weren’t the sort of crew to drink a village dry and cause a ruckus. They’d get scolded if they tried. Besides, maybe not everyone had picked up on Pops’ weird mood the way Marco had, but most of them seemed to get the gist that he didn’t want nosy escorts today.

Thatch and Haruta were already whispering with some of the other commanders. He sighed, deciding to return to his cabin and leave them to their tawdry gossip. He settled in at his desk with a weary sigh, placing the hat in front of him. He stared at it for a moment more before pulling over some of the low-priority reports he’d been ignoring during their East Blue “vacation.” They were going to spend the night in port, so he might as well get some work done.

Plus, he thought as he looked over at the hat again, I could use something to occupy myself. It was an odd thing, that hat. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch, sitting stubbornly at the back of his mind. Maybe he could ask Pops about it in the morning. As the sun set, he lit the candle on his desk, careful to keep it away from the flammable paper reports and straw hat. He shivered. His room didn’t usually feel this cold unless they were near a winter island. Dawn was certainly a strange place.

Thatch brought him a tray shortly after, babbling about whatever everyone else had been up to all day as he did. Marco smiled but shooed him out eventually. He still had work to do.

Of course, without anything but the hat and the work to draw his attention, he ended up working until morning. He blinked a few times when Thatch opened his cabin door again.

“Brought breakfast,” he said. Then he paused. Marco rubbed at his eyes a few times. “Did you sleep?” Thatch asked. Marco could hear the accusation in his voice as plain as day.”

“I forgot, yoi.”

“You forgot to sleep.” He didn’t sound impressed. Marco shrugged. Thatch sighed. “Alright. Well, we set out a bit ago. We thought we were letting you sleep for once, but I guess we should have known better. You even missed the local Sea King attacking us.” A chilled breeze moved past them. “Is your window open?” he asked. Marco shook his head.

Thatch looked around, but Marco had already done so a few times and knew he would find nothing. The breeze was new, but he’d been feeling chilled all night. Maybe he could have one of the shipwrights take a look at his quarters later to see if they could find a draft or something.

Thatch shrugged. “Well if you weren’t sleeping,” he said, “then you aren’t going to be rewarded. You’ll have to come and eat breakfast with the rest of us.”

“Even though the food is already in my room?” Marco asked.

Thatch took a step back through the doorway and into the hall again. “Ah, too bad it isn’t though. Guess you’ll have to get up off your ass instead.” He turned to make his way back to the galley, calling over his shoulder, “You have five minutes and then I’m siccing our siblings on you!”

Marco sighed and leaned back in his chair. He rubbed at his face for a moment before tidying up the papers strewn across his desk. He pushed to his feet with a groan. He really was getting too old to sit in one position for so long. He hesitated before leaving, his eyes drawn once more to the old hat. He grabbed it before leaving the room. Maybe Pops would know why it seemed familiar. Marco had spent most of his life at his side, after all.

When he arrived in the galley, however, just in time for Thatch to spot him and dispel the crowd of scheming brothers gathered around him—Marco had barely met the five-minute deadline—he decided he would ask Pops later. Marco walked by him to Thatch, hesitating as he did. Pops looked solemn, but he offered no explanation as he passed and Marco didn’t ask. Pops, like many others, believed that it was a captain’s duty to appear strong for his crew and show no weakness. He also believed that his children should shoulder none of his burdens.

As first mate and Commander of the first division, Marco strove to bear as much as he was allowed to. With each passing year, as Pops grew older, he was allowed more and more, but apparently, Pops wasn’t ready to share whatever this was yet.

Marco couldn’t help but think of his own suspicions concerning their visit to Dawn. Garp’s sorrow was not all that different from what Marco was seeing now, if more concentrated and personal. Pops’s sorrow was for a friend, not for himself.

Curiosity ate at Marco but he quelled it. Unlike his nosy brothers, he knew when to hold his tongue and when to let things lie. Pops would either tell him eventually or he wouldn’t, and Marco would be fine with either because it was his job to be. So instead, Marco sat with Thatch for breakfast and did his best to listen to his yammering through the haze of exhaustion. He would give his father space for today, and then he would stick by his side. He would be there when he was needed.

Things were strange in the days since they left Dawn. It had been only a week, but Pops still had not shared whatever it was he had learned. More notably, strange occurrences of all sorts plagued the Moby Dick and all of her crew. Various lines and barrels and tools disappeared only to later be found on the other side of the ship and in the unlikeliest of places, even when they could have sworn they were elsewhere. Everyone seemed clumsier than usual too, tripping over nothing. Their observation haki was going haywire whenever they tried to use it and they felt presences where there weren’t any. The entirety of the Moby had been overlain with some sense of eeriness and liminality, and they had no idea why.

By the time they were nearing Paradise, everyone was on high alert. Pops knew something was off, of course, but he didn’t push. Marco had instructed everyone to come to him with any problems and leave Pops out of it unless it was an emergency the first night after they’d even left the port. And to Marco they came.

According to several reports from his siblings, the Moby seemed to be brimming with beetles and bugs and various small creatures. Marco would have said infested, but it didn’t seem they’d been nesting and breeding on board. Rather, it seemed like they’d all decided at once that the Moby would make a good home. Almost like something was drawing them to it. It got bad enough that he started taking the hat with him everywhere, since they seemed particularly interested in crawling all over it.

There had also been a string of fires lately. They seemed to come out of nowhere. Sometimes, they even burst to life on things that weren’t normally flammable in the first place. Their sails and their decks were scorched in various places. Metal cleats and anchors and tools and baubles were hot to the touch if you looked away from them too long. Sometimes they even noticed in time to pat the flames or embers out themselves.

Perhaps most eerily, barrels and decking would splinter and shatter with no discernible cause. Various things around the ship were breaking apart when everyone was looking elsewhere, and when the loud sound turned their attention, there would be no one nearby. Even durable metal would crack down the middle at random. Their repair budget and shipwright hours had more than doubled since they left Dawn.

Food disappeared from the kitchen in unprecedented amounts. His family knew better than to ransack the kitchen like that. Thatch may forgive the occasional snack, but he and his entire division were on the warpath over this. They’d already had to make two unscheduled stops for supplies and not one of the undoubtedly many perpetrators had yet to step forward. Marco could understand that no one wanted to be the focus of all that fury, though. He himself wouldn’t volunteer, even if he’d been stupid enough to partake in the first place.

Thatch knew him well enough to deem him (mostly) innocent so, despite the occasional side-eye, Marco became his designated soundboard for whatever conspiracy he had thought up that day. The current theory was, apparently, that it hadn’t been individuals deciding to hide their own crimes amongst the many—as had been yesterday’s theory—but instead that there was a single ringleader who was orchestrating the whole plot anonymously. Marco was beginning to consider acting suspiciously so that Thatch would find someone else to rant at. He had work to do. So did Thatch, but he at least had a team of chefs to do the prep work for him. He didn’t fully trust all of them either, but the food seemed to disappear in the middle of the night rather than during or near meal times. All the prep work and snacks gone in an instant and no one ever saw who took them. Thatch had even taken to staking out the kitchens on occasion. Marco pointed out once that the lack of sleep wouldn’t help with the paranoia but he was promptly called a hypocrite, so he dropped that particular argument pretty quickly.

So people were clumsy and unnerved, things were winding up in strange places, haki was somehow malfunctioning, fires were sparking spontaneously, the Moby was riddled with small lifeforms, things seemed to break apart at random, and most damningly, the food stores were running low more quickly than they should be. People snuck food on the Moby all the time, of course they did, but this was far more food than they’d ever had a problem with, and they hadn’t gotten any new members. And that's when Marco realized something. Maybe they did. Maybe there were extra mouths they weren’t accounting for. He felt almost like Thatch for even thinking it, but once the thought took root, there was no dispelling it.

There were stowaways on the Moby.

Chapter Text

When Sabo woke up, the stranger was gone, the gates were open, and the fire was still raging on the other side. He pushed himself to unsteady feet. His lungs ached and his eyes burned, but Ace and Luffy could be in there and he would rather die than leave them. He made his way into the burning ruins of the Gray Terminal, moving as quickly as he could and wishing it was faster. 

He could hear screaming. He could hear men and women and children and grandparents all yelling out in agony and the cacophony was too much for him to make out any specifics over the ringing in his ears and the crackling of the flames.

He heard a young voice cry out, and his tired mind provided a picture of his (young, so young) baby brother, and he changed directions.

What he found was two small children, smaller than him but bigger than Luffy, clutching at each other desperately as they sought refuge under a precariously balanced shelter of scrap metal and garbage.

It wasn’t his brothers, but he couldn't leave them here. He gritted his teeth and reached a hand out, automatically placing his other on the “roof” for balance only to yelp and yank it away when it burned him. The skin of his palm was red and angry, but he shoved the pain down and reached out again. He pulled them out, a little boy and a little girl. They thanked him and gave him their names, but he didn’t bother remembering them. He gave his own when they asked.

He wanted to look for Ace and Luffy, and he would, but he couldn’t go in circles while he led the kids out. He’d have to make his way toward the forest and hope he saw them on the way. He told the kids to keep an eye out too, and he told them his brothers’ names. They called out while Sabo guided their way, dodging around unstable structures and away from the sounds of fighting. He was fairly certain he heard Bluejam, at one point, and he pushed them in the opposite direction immediately. Sabo could barely keep moving as it was; he couldn’t risk a fight he might not have won even on his best day. He still had to find his brothers. He heard yelling as they moved away—and crying too, he thought—but the fire muffled it and it was easy to ignore when he had more important people to protect.

The smoke wasn’t as dense anymore, and Sabo thought they must be close. He didn’t need to get the kids settled or stay with them. He just needed to get them past the flames. They were young, but they were Terminal kids, and Terminal kids were either tough or they were dead. They’d be fine on their own, after that. Sabo could hear voices again, but it didn’t sound like fighting. They weren’t familiar either—no one they’d fought before. Not his brothers either. The voices were calling for survivors. The kids were crying, and they pulled ahead of him, calling out.

Sabo tried to grab them, but he was tired and his arms were too slow. They slipped past him. They ran ahead and he tried to follow, but he heard them screaming before they were back in sight.

He turned a corner around a pile of smoking garbage and saw them struggling against a few soldiers from High Town.

Rage flared to life in his veins. He’d barely been suppressing it, he’d focused on finding his brothers and getting the kids out, but this was too much. It wasn’t enough for them to damn the residents of the Gray Terminal to hell? Now they had to send their soldiers to clean up the excess.

He saw a pipe sticking out of the trash next to him and gripped it firmly. It was hot enough to burn, to sizzle at his skin, but he didn’t let go. He pulled it free. It was bent slightly, and crushed together at one end, but it would do. Sabo could work with this.

He took the pipe, and he charged in.

The soldiers reeled back when they saw him, and he was grateful to have the element of surprise on his side. He needed all the help he could get.

He knocked one out with a blow to the head and kneecapped another before they got their wits back. The kids were free, as the other four rushed Sabo, but they weren’t moving. He stole a quick look at them between dodging a sweep of one soldier's leg.

They were looking at him with teary eyes, and he realized that they were hesitating to leave him behind.

“Go!” he yelled, voice hoarse from the smoke. “Get the hell out of here, I’ve got this!” Sabo wasn’t sure he did, actually. He was even more tired than he thought he was, and he’d already been grazed a few times because of his sluggish movements.

He still didn’t hear them running, and there was a tactic that would probably work. Maybe they wouldn’t just leave, but they might go for help. “My brothers,” he tried. “Go find my brothers!”

Sabo took another soldier out before he heard the sound of their feet pounding against the dirt. 

He let out a breath and pushed back against one of the soldier’s holds. He’d taken out three of the six, he was almost there. He didn’t even have to win, really, just had to hold out long enough for—

Sabo heard a rifle cocking behind him. He froze.

“End of the line kid,” the one behind him said. The two he could see had malicious grins as they stepped out of his reach. He let them go. Not that he had much choice.

He turned, slowly, until he was facing the third and staring down the gun pointed right at him. He looked the soldier in the eye. Sabo wasn’t going to make it out of this. He knew that. But like hell he’d let this soldier run from what he was about to do. Sabo hoped he haunted the fucker’s dreams.

He had kind of hoped his life would flash before his eyes.

There were a lot of bad things in it. There were a lot of bad people and bad experiences. But there were also his brothers. He’d go through all of the bad over and over again if he got to see them one more time.

But he could hear Luffy’s voice, if he focused. Calling his name with a watery voice, like he always did when Ace was being mean. He could picture his brothers’ faces. He could imagine the warmth of their touch and the weight of their bodies when they all piled on top of each other to sleep.

And, he assured himself, that was enough. The sound of the gun was deafening, but the discomfort was short, and then the world fell away.

Ace ached all over, and there was blood dripping into one of his eyes—obscuring his vision. Dadan was injured panting heavily at his side. A cut on his arm was bleeding heavily, making his grip on his pipe slippery with blood. The smoke and the heat were getting to both of them. Bluejam was still standing before them, still grinning maniacally. Ace wasn’t actually sure they could win this one.

But they’d gotten Luffy away, and that was what mattered.

He wished Dadan had gone too, but some selfish part of him was glad she was there. He was glad for the proof of her love, glad to not be alone in this.

There was no grace to the fight. It was a brutal, desperate, feral thing. More than wanting to live for himself, Ace didn’t want to leave Luffy alone. He was surprised to realize that he didn’t want to die either though. Ace had brothers, even if Sabo was gone, and he had responsibilities to them. For the first time in his life, as he swung his pipe at Bluejam’s skull with all of his remaining strength, Ace thought to himself, I want to live.

Bluejam caught the pipe against his palm, and it must have hurt but he didn’t pause before yanking it from Ace’s hands. It went easily through his bloodied grip. He jumped back with a curse, but Bluejam cast the weapon aside rather than attacking with it. Dadan stepped forward and shifted a bit in front of him. It was just enough to have plausible deniability while still keeping him behind her and Ace wanted to cry. The fight only devolved from there, and Ace lost track of himself in it.

It was swinging fists and split knuckles and the cracking of bones. He could hardly stand when he came back to himself. Before him and Dadan, on shaky legs but still standing, Bluejam was on the ground. Ace didn’t know how they won, couldn’t make out or remember any details through the haze of desperation and fighting for survival. It didn’t matter though. They’d won. He wasn’t sure who moved first, but the next thing he knew, he and Dadan were clutching at each other with all the meager strength they had left. They shouldn’t do this here. They needed to go, but Ace couldn’t remember the last time they hugged and he never wanted it to stop.

But he choked on his next breath, and she pulled away. He tried not to hold it against her.

As he stepped back, he could see movement behind her. He could see a crooked arm reaching forward across the dirt, could see jagged, broken fingers wrapping around a discarded gun they hadn’t seen. Ace moved before he could think about it. He lunged for Bluejam, diving in front of the bullet and leaving no room for it to get past him.

He could barely make out Dadan’s cry over the echoing bang and the ringing in his ears. He crashed limply right on top of the downed pirate.

Ace had never been shot before. It hurt, burned in a way he’d never experienced before. He couldn’t stop the scream from escaping his throat, not when he hadn’t had time to brace himself for the pain. Bluejam pushed him off. Ace rolled to the floor and cried out again as the impact jarred his wound. He panicked, but couldn’t get up. He couldn’t get in the way in time, and this was going to be for nothing -

Ace looked over just as Dadan’s shoe crunched harshly against Bluejam’s windpipe. The sound turned his stomach, even though it was relieving. Blujam choked on nothing for a moment, hyperventilating but not taking any air in. He let out a final, rattling gasp as Dadan fell to her knees crouched over Ace. She pressed her hands firmly against his stomach and he moaned in pain. He pushed weakly against her but she didn’t move them away. She was whispering to him. A litany of “I’m sorry”s and “it won’t stop”s. She said his name with so much sorrow that it made his eyes sting with tears.

Dadan was already crying, he realized. Her cheeks were wet, dripping onto Ace’s own. She wasn’t trying to hide it at all like she usually was. That, more than anything, made it feel real. He was suddenly aware of how blood-soaked her hands were on his stomach and how cold he felt, despite the flames roaring around them. He realized the edges of his vision were going black. He had things to say though, and he was determined to get them out.

“'M sorry I was a pain,” he said. Dadan was shaking her head but he was running out of time. He couldn’t let her interrupt. “Tell Luffy I’m sorry too, okay? He hates being alone. He’s going to be really sad.” It was getting harder to talk. He kept running out of breath. “You’re… a good mom, though. He’ll be… fine.” She was sobbing now, but he was almost done. Just one more thing really. Then he could let go. “Thank you,” he said, “for everything. Thank you for loving me.”

They were good last words, he thought.

Luffy was scared.

Ace and Dadan sent him away, and they were fighting all on their own. The other bandits kept a tight grip on him, but they let their guard down when they stepped out of the flames. Luffy forced his body to relax, and they all did the same without even realizing it. He pried himself free in an instant and hit the ground running.

They yelled and reached after him but didn't do more than tear his shirt. Luffy had short legs, and he knew the woods but so did the bandits. He stretched his arms forward to grab hold of two trees ahead of him, and they were yelling more now. Luffy got it. He wasn't very good at this yet. Even if he was, there was no telling where he would land, and none of the options were safe. Everything was on fire.

They shouldn't've taken him away.

The trees were singed by the fire and still smoking, but Luffy barely noticed the sting. He had to focus. He knew how far in Ace was, and he had to get as close as possible. There wasn't time for mistakes.

Just as the bandits caught up, he lifted his feet from the ground and launched forward. Luffy hoped they didn't follow him back in. He didn't want them to get hurt.

The wind hurt his eyes more than normal and it was hard to breathe as he soared over the fire. It was loud, and he could’ve sworn he even heard a gunshot in the distance. It was almost unbearably hot, but Luffy was strong. He could take it. He could save Ace and Dadan. 

He crashed into a pile of trash and backed out of it as quickly as he could. He patted out the little fires that caught on his clothes and pretended it didn’t hurt. He had work to do. He started wandering, as quickly as he could. It was hard to see and he could barely breathe and the fire was an oppressive heat around him. He forced his voice out, loud enough to hear over the raging fire. “Ace!” he yelled. “Dadan! Where are you?”

Everything looked different than he was used to. The piles had shifted and the homes people had built were gone. Maybe launching himself in wasn’t a good idea. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know how to get back to them. He hiccuped a little and his eyes stung, but he wiped at them stubbornly. He wasn’t a crybaby! He was gonna save ‘em, so he couldn’t be. He had to be brave, like Shanks!

“Ace! Dadan!” He paused to cough. "I came back!”

He could hear people yelling in front of him. Hope sparked in his chest, but it wasn’t Ace and Dadan. It was two kids he didn’t know. They were a little older than him and there was ash smudged across their faces. They stopped in front of him, and there was something like recognition in their faces. Luffy didn’t know why, but he didn’t have time, he had to keep going.

“Wait!” the girl called. “You’re Luffy right?” he paused. “Sabo’s brother?”

Luffy spun around. Sabo?

The kids looked relieved, but only for a second. “You have to help him,” the boy said. “The guards had us cornered, and he sent us for help, and-”

Luffy took off in the direction they came from. He could hear them following after him, could hear them thanking him, but he only paid attention when they were shouting directions. He heard another gunshot, close by on their left, and flinched at the sound. Someone was talking too, and they sounded upset, but Luffy drowned them out. Sabo was here. He was supposed to be safe! Ace and Dadan were together, but Sabo was alone. Luffy had to help him first. He ducked around burning obstacles and jumped over anything that had fallen into the path. The sound of the kids’ voices grew more and more distant the faster he went. Right up until he heard them cry out.

Luffy came to a sudden stop and looked back at them. The boy had tripped and bloodied his knee pretty bad. The little girl was crouched next to him and trying to help him stand. He must have fallen on some of the jagged scrap metal that had fallen loose and littered the ground.

He hesitated for only a second before going back. He wasn’t really hurt, but they weren’t safe here and he could be if Luffy left ‘em. Besides, he told himself, they knew where Sabo was. He made his way toward them more carefully than he’d been moving, the injury a reminder that he wouldn’t be able to help if he got too hurt. Luffy had almost reached them when he noticed something shift above them. The boy had just gotten back to his feet, the girl lifting his arm across her shoulder to support his weight. He started running.

“Move!” he yelled, but all they did was look at him in surprise. Luffy kept his gaze on the tall pile of sharp, burning metal about to collapse over them, dodging the debris in his path on instinct alone. They finally looked up, but it was too late. He could hear them cry out as it all toppled over.

Luffy reached them just in time.

He slammed into their sides, knocking them out of the way just as it came crashing down on top of him.

Everything hurt, sharply, and then it didn’t anymore.

Chapter Text

After they died, Dadan and the others changed. They never laughed anymore, and they drank a whole lot. Luffy felt kind of bad about it, but Ace would never let him bring it up. Dadan was angry and sad when they first woke back up and it hadn’t gotten any better in the months afterward. They knew some time had passed before they came back, but not how much.

The first time Makino visited, her and Dadan didn’t talk.

Luffy had never seen Makino drink before, even though she ran a bar. It wasn’t happy drinking, either, like Shanks would do. It was sullen and quiet and Luffy wished they could hear him ask what was wrong. He wished he could tell them a story to cheer them up. He wished he could give them a hug, but whenever he tried, his arms passed through them and they never felt it. So instead, he sang to them sometimes.

Ace always yelled at him and told him there was no point, but Luffy could’ve sworn that those were the only nights Dadan slept soundly. He tried to do it more often.

Luffy thought that maybe she could sense them somehow. Like she felt that they were still there sometimes. Ace and Sabo thought so too, but none of them knew for sure.

Dadan talked to them every so often. She’d talk about her day or ask how theirs were or she’d tell them stories. Sometimes she’d mention what she thought they’d be up to if they were still there—wreaking havoc and giving her heart attacks. She would only do it on quiet nights when the other bandits were asleep or when she’d sneak out to the treehouse. Other times she’d leave food for them there.

She never said anything when she brought back the empty dishes the next morning, but the first time it happened, she cried the whole night. She could always tell herself it was animals, but Luffy thought she knew.

It was really nice getting to eat again too. Anytime they tried to eat other food, like when the bandits made plates for themselves or if Makino served someone, they couldn't touch it. Ace and Sabo said it was because these were “offerings.”

When Shanks came up the mountain, Luffy was practically vibrating in excitement. He started to run toward him, wanting to cling and climb until Shanks laughed indulgently and picked him up, like usual, but he stopped himself halfway through.

“Ah!” he said. “Our promise!” Luffy dove into the bushes on his right and Ace and Sabo laughed at him for it. “It’s not funny! Shanks and I can’t meet again until I’m a great pirate!” Ace and Sabo stopped laughing, and Luffy grinned at his victory. He knew they’d understand if he explained. His brothers looked at each other for a moment before turning back to Luffy and yanking him out of the bushes.

“Don’t bother yourself over that right now, Lu,” Ace said. Luffy blinked; they only called him that when they were worried about him. “Don’t you wanna see Shanks again?”

Luffy hesitated. Of course he wanted to see Shanks again. He always wanted to see Shanks. “But we promised,” he said quietly. “I can’t.”

Sabo hummed. “Well, you promised not to meet again right?” Luffy nodded. “So if you just watch him, you aren’t breaking your promise.” Luffy frowned. He wasn’t sure it worked that way, but Sabo was a lot smarter than him, so if he thought so then maybe it was true.

“Really?” Luffy asked. Ace and Sabo nodded, already pulling him forward. Luffy let them, starting to skip a bit as his smile grew. “Yeah! That makes sense. As long as I stay out of sight, it’ll be fine!” He could tell Ace and Sabo were looking at each other over his head again, but he didn’t care why this time. He couldn’t wait to see Shanks again! It had been so long. They caught up to him right as he and Makino reached the ladder to their treehouse. Luffy wasn’t sure how to follow them up there without being seen, but Ace and Sabo had an idea. They always did.

“We’ll go up first, and we’ll tell you when they aren’t looking,” Sabo said.

“Then you can hide under the table, okay?” Ace added.

Luffy nodded and grinned the whole time he was waiting at the top of the ladder. He felt a tap on his hand and scrambled to get up and under the table before Makino and Shanks could turn around. His brothers hid under the table with him, even though they hadn’t made a promise, and Luffy grinned even wider.

Shanks was staring down at the hat Dadan had placed in the middle of the table.

His hat. Luffy's hat.

On instinct, like every time he saw it, Luffy reached for it on his head. And, like every other time, he felt the barest hints of something before his hand passed through the empty air. It still felt weird not wearing it all the time.

Shanks reached his hand out too. Luffy watched raptly, trying to see more without peeking his head out far enough to be seen. Luffy could still see where the middle of the table was from underneath it, but more than that, he'd spent enough time staring at it to know exactly where on the table it sat. Shanks’s arm didn't even reach far enough to brush the straw brim before drawing back again. Luffy watched the hand fall back to Shanks’s side before clenching into a fist.

“Captain?” Makino asked softly.

Shanks turned away from the table to face her. Luffy wished he could see his face. “It’s not mine anymore,” he said, voice strained behind forced cheer. Luffy’s eyes stung. Shanks raised his tankard. “To Luffy. The world will miss you, Anchor.”

Ace and Sabo sat and watched with him while Shanks and Makino drank and wiped at wet eyes. No one said anything the rest of the time.

They followed him and Makino back down the mountain afterward and then into Party’s Bar, where the rest of the Red-Haired Pirates were waiting. Benn clapped Shanks on the back but still didn’t say a word. Luffy had never seen the crew so quiet before. He didn’t like it. When they got up to leave not long after, Luffy wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He missed them. He didn’t want them to leave again so soon. But the way they were now seemed… wrong. Maybe they could be happy again out on the sea.

“Thanks,” Luffy said once the Red Force was out of sight. His brothers turned to look at him, but they didn’t interrupt. “I know they can’t see me, ‘cause we’re dead, but you guys helped me stay hidden anyway.” Ace and Sabo flinched, like they thought he’d forgotten. Luffy laughed at them. “You guys are the best big brothers ever.”

Their faces flushed red and Luffy laughed again, not stopping even when they pounced on him, ruffling his hair aggressively and tickling his sides.

The first time they saw Gramps again, they ran on instinct. Hiding in the treehouse did little good when he and Dadan and Makino all came up an hour later.

Luffy squeaked and crouched lower before really remembering that they couldn’t be seen. He sat up and watched Gramps lay three wrapped gifts on their lone table. Luffy perked up and floated over immediately, moving his head around to get a better look. Maybe he could figure out what they were.

It was weird. Gramps only ever brought them a present on their birthdays. Luffy didn’t think he’d ever seen three whole presents at once. He wished he could open them, but he knew his hands would just swipe through them. Beetles crawled up the table legs and moved toward them, but Gramps brushed them back onto the floor easily. Luffy pouted.

Dadan and Makino were already sitting on the dusty floor, and Gramps moved to join them once he’d arranged the presents just so. Makino handed him a tankard and he took a long pull from it. Luffy hadn’t ever really seen Gramps drink before either. Luffy moved and sat down next to him cautiously. “Happy birthday, boys,” Gramps said quietly.

Luffy cocked his head, and he could see Ace and Sabo’s faces scrunching up. He didn’t think it was any of their birthdays, but it definitely wasn’t all of theirs.

Dadan and Makino came to the treehouse on each of their birthdays, leaving food and blowing out candles for them. “You’d be eight, now, Luffy,” they’d said last time. Before that was, “Happy eleventh birthday, Sabo,” and before that was, “I can’t believe you’d already be eleven, Ace!” They always tried to smile, but they still looked sad, Luffy thought. Their lips would tremble and their eyes would be wet, and then they’d pull out the booze.

Gramps pressed his hand against his eyes. “Sorry I couldn’t be here,” he said, and that made more sense to Luffy. He’d missed their birthdays so he was doing all of them at once. But something about his voice made it seem like he was apologizing for more than that. Ace was biting his lip. Maybe he heard it too. “I would have been here, if I could. Things would be different.” It almost sounded like Gramps was crying. Luffy wouldn’t have believed it if he didn’t see the way his shoulders were shaking.

Makino laid a hand against his shoulder and Dadan gritted her teeth, turning to stare out their doorway into the forest below. “You couldn’t have known,” Makino said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Luffy couldn’t see Dadan’s face anymore but he thought he heard her sob. Luffy frowned. They were supposed to be celebrating their birthdays, weren’t they? You weren’t supposed to be sad at celebrations. Sabo sighed and sat next to Luffy, pulling him into his side. “They’re sad because they miss us,” he said.

Luffy pouted up at him. “But we’re right here.”

Sabo offered a small, sad smile. “Yeah, Lu, we are. But they can’t hear or see us, remember?”

“Oh,” Luffy said, looking down at his hands. “That sounds lonely.”

Sabo nodded and Luffy laid his head on his shoulder. Ace came and sat by Sabo’s other side eventually, and they all watched Dadan, Makino, and Gramps drink themselves unconscious. Luffy didn’t sing.

It made him feel lonely too.

Apart from the visits, very little changed for him and his brothers. They sparred and they caused havoc in High Town and they visited Makino and they longed for the sea and when they actually felt tired, they slept in their treehouse. The biggest difference was probably their powers. Sabo said that Luffy shouldn’t have been rubber anymore, since your devil fruit respawned elsewhere when you died, but Luffy thought that was dumb. He was still here and he was a rubber man, so of course he still had it. But now, he had another power too, and so did his brothers.

Luffy felt connected to nature—even more so than he had when he was alive. He could hear the voices of bugs and animals, even though they weren’t really speaking. They’d listen to him too. If he wanted something moved that he couldn’t touch, beetles would come and do it for him. Or animals would do little tricks whenever he was sad. He never asked out loud, but they'd do it anyway. He’d gotten a little better at it, though. Stubborn animals started cooperating when he asked with his actual voice. His rubber limbs were a bit more tameable too, if not by too much.

Ace had fire. It would lick up his arms and legs and spread to whatever had pissed him off. It made nausea roil in Luffy’s stomach the first time he saw it. They didn’t talk about how they died, but there was fire everywhere, and Luffy could guess. By now, though, he and Sabo were pretty used to things randomly bursting into flames whenever Ace was yelling. He was starting to get a bit of control, at least. Now he could do it on command, sometimes.

Sabo could break things. They’d shatter in his hands if he squeezed hard enough or swung his fist. He couldn’t touch them. His hand would still phase through, but it would break things on the way. Sometimes, it would just happen to things near him when he got upset. He’d done it on accident a lot before he got a handle on it. There were a couple new holes in the treehouse that the bandits had done their best to patch. Luffy was surprised they hadn’t given up after the first few times.

Training their new powers was weird. They couldn’t just spar like normal since none of their powers worked on the others. They sort of trained next to each other instead of with each other. It wasn’t as lonely as Luffy expected it to be when Sabo first suggested it, though. His brothers would help him when he got frustrated and they would switch to physical sparring if he whined enough. They couldn’t hit other people anymore, so it didn’t really matter if they got better at it, but Luffy didn’t want to bring it up. He loved sparring with his brothers and it was something they always did together before they died, so Luffy didn’t wanna stop.

He and his brothers had fallen into a routine, and Luffy liked it. It worked for them.

They were sparring a little ways into the forest, though still not far from their treehouse. Sabo paused and Luffy actually managed to land a hit, even though it bounced back and hit him after. Ace snickered and Sabo glared, but they all fell silent when Sabo held his finger to his lips.

Luffy listened and heard people coming toward them, rustling across the forest floor. They were talking too, but Luffy didn’t recognize any of the voices. Sabo inched forward, peaking through the bushes to see the path. He waved them forward and Ace and Luffy joined him. Only after he had did he remember that they couldn’t actually be seen by other people. Ace and Sabo shifted at his sides, and he figured they probably remembered too. None of them moved out of their cover.

The people were far enough back that they could still see their faces as they approached. One was tall and had big hair that looked like bread, and it seemed like he was doing most of the talking. The short one had a cool green shirt with a weird puffy neck and sleeves. Luffy wanted to poke them to see if they were squishy or solid. The third looked like a pineapple. He had a cool tattoo on his chest and—

Luffy froze. The third one had a cool tattoo on his chest, and he had Luffy’s hat in his hand.

He went to jump out at them, but Sabo grabbed his shirt and held him back. Luffy whipped around to face him. He was angry, furious that this stupid pineapple had stolen his treasure, and Sabo wasn’t going to let him do anything about it? But his brother wasn’t looking at Luffy. Neither of them were. They were both zeroed in on the hat in a stranger’s grip. Luffy forced himself to relax, just a bit. Just enough to refocus his attention where it needed to be. Sabo would have a plan. He always did.

Rather than jumping out, they followed behind the strangers. They kept out of sight, habit and instinct taking over. It seemed to take forever, at the speed they were going. Luffy and Ace and Sabo usually raced at least partway down the mountain. Walking slowly was boring and it took ages too. Luffy wanted his hat back now, he was sick of being patient. But he listened to his brother and kept pace.

When they finally reached Foosha, Luffy couldn’t help but stare at all the new people. The town was actually crowded and Luffy didn’t recognize anyone but the villagers he had known when he was alive. They were weird too. They were all sorts of shapes and sizes and they had cool clothes and weapons like nothing Luffy had ever seen before. Creeping through the shadows and gawking at everyone, Luffy didn’t even realize where they were going until they were already at the port. He bumped into Ace’s back when he stopped without Luffy noticing. Ace glared but still kept quiet. He turned back around and Luffy followed his line of sight until it fell on the massive ship in the harbor. A super cool ship that looked like a whale on the front. A ship with a black flag.

Luffy grinned, bouncing a little, but both of his brothers reached back this time to keep him in place. He pouted at them but neither one looked back at him. Didn’t they know that that was a pirate ship? They had to explore!

But Sabo tapped his shoulder and pointed to the three strangers they’d been following, and Luffy refocused. He could explore later. He needed his hat back first.

There wasn’t really a way around just walking onto the ship normally. They knew, logically, that they couldn’t be seen or heard by living people, so there was no reason not to, and the gangplank didn’t lend itself well to sneaking anyway. Ace still made them wait until it was empty before they went.

It took a little bit of time to find the pineapple guy, but once they did, they were in a dark, closed-off bedroom, and Luffy was immediately sick of it. He wanted to grab his hat and run, but he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t really touch it and if Pineapple thought it started flying on its own, he’d chase it down and keep it for sure. Luffy’s beetles didn’t work fast enough to not be seen when it was right in view of the guy. Pineapple was sitting at a desk, and it looked like he wasn’t planning to move anytime soon. He kept looking at Luffy’s hat too, every few seconds—almost like he knew they were coming to get it back.

Luffy huffed a sigh and settled in to wait.

Waiting was the worst, Luffy decided. He’d flopped back on the bed a while ago and was kicking his legs in place. The stupid Pineapple hadn’t gotten up even once and it already felt like they’d been there forever. At least they weren’t hiding anymore.

Luffy got up to move around again. He wished they could go explore the ship, but the door was shut and they couldn’t move through walls. The bread-haired guy had come in right after Luffy and his brothers to bring the Pineapple food, but they’d wanted to wait for an opportunity to steal the hat back. If Luffy had known they wouldn’t get one, he would have been outside this whole time. He thought it was stupid that they couldn’t go through walls but that their hands passed through if they tried to touch things too, but Ace and Sabo always shushed him when he tried to complain about it. He wondered if they would listen now.

The thought was cut off by the sight of the door opening. Luffy cheered and hopped to his feet.

“Wait,” Sabo hissed, still trying to keep his voice low. Luffy was sick of doing it though. He whined and Sabo gave him a look.

“This guy is probably gonna leave soon, now that it’s morning right?” Ace asked. “Then we can get your hat back and go home.”

Luffy made a face and sat back down. He wished they’d leave already so he could have his hat and leave this stupid room. 

Bread Man walked up to Pineapple’s desk, holding a tray. “Brought breakfast,” he said. He stared at Pineapple when he didn’t answer. Luffy’s stomach growled. “Did you sleep?” he asked.

“I forgot, yoi.” Pineapple said. He talked funny. Luffy wondered what “yoi” meant.

“You forgot to sleep,” Bread Man said. Pineapple shrugged. Luffy was with Bread Man on this one. They could have been gone already if the stupid Pineapple slept. “Alright. Well, we set out a bit ago.” Bread Man said, and Luffy froze. He turned to face Ace and Sabo and saw them doing the same. “We thought we were letting you sleep for once, but I guess we should have known better. You even missed the local Sea King attacking us.” He was still talking, but they didn’t care. Luffy ran out the door and his brothers followed after him. For once, they didn’t try and stop him or slow him down. “Is your window open?” he heard Bread man ask, but that was the last of it.

It didn’t matter. Their conversation didn’t matter at all because— 

Luffy came to a stop at the ship’s banister. He stared out at the expanse of open water. No Dawn Island in sight. He ran to check the other side of the ship, passing Ace and Sabo as he did. Still nothing. Nothing over the bow and, when he ran back to check, nothing behind them either.

Whatever ship they were on had set sail while they were trapped in that room and now it was taking them away from their home. They couldn’t go back. Ace and Sabo stood on either side of him as he watched the water move behind them. There was emotion building in his chest, but Luffy wasn’t sure which one it was. He thought it was probably a few of them. He would never see Makino or Dadan or Gramps again. He’d never see the treehouse or Party’s Bar or the bandits’ hut.

But he was sailing on a pirate ship. Maybe he wasn’t setting out for his dream, but he could still go on adventures. He could still be free.

Luffy grinned.

When he started laughing Ace and Sabo turned to look at him. They were probably worried but that was dumb. Luffy would have said goodbye to everyone if he knew, but he wasn’t going to dwell on it. He was setting sail with his brothers, just like they’d always talked about. Nothing else mattered.

Eventually, his brothers joined in until they were all clutching at their sides and lying in a pile on the deck. When their laughter finally died down, Ace offered them a sharp grin.

“So I guess this makes us pirates, now, huh?”

Luffy cheered and Sabo chuckled. “Guess so,” Sabo said.

Ace hummed. “We did get kind of kidnapped though. Plus they stole Luffy’s hat—who steals from a shrine?”

Sabo’s own grin turned sharp. Luffy didn’t get it. He looked between them a few times until Sabo gave in. “Hey, Luffy,” he asked, “don’t you think they deserve a few pranks for all that?”

Oh. Luffy grinned too. That sounded fun.

Ace laughed and stood up. He pulled both of them to their feet and then planted his fists on his hips. “Not quite, Sabo,” Ace said. He was making his “devious” face, as Sabo called it. “I think you mean a haunting."

Chapter Text

Newgate knew something was happening aboard the Moby, but not what. Marco hadn’t told him and none of his other sons had come to him either. He tried to let them handle things nowadays—most of the time, at least. He was an old man and his sons needed to be ready when he died. He was a relic of the old era, and he was content to watch them usher in the new.

His curiosity was piqued, though. He had been very seriously considering approaching them first and asking what was wrong, but Marco knocked on his door before Newgate gave into it.

“Pops,” he said, hesitating in the doorway. Newgate nodded to gesture him in. He did his best to hide his anticipation. “There’s something you should know about, yoi.”

“Oh?” Newgate asked, playing ignorant. Marco sent him a look that meant he had failed.

“I know you’ve seen that everyone is on edge, yoi, but I’m not sure you’ve seen any of the… other things.” Newgate raised a brow. “There have been… happenings, I guess, around the Moby.”

Newgate hummed. “‘Happenings.’” What a strange choice of words. Intriguing. The life of a pirate had become nearly boring in his old age, and with the height of his fame. It was nice at times, of course—domestic, almost. Or, their own variety of it, as his children were still fond of rowdy parties and took after him in their drinking. Sometimes old friends would visit too. But they were past the age of upstarts with any merit seeking out the “great Whitebeard” to take him down. A few flies showed up on occasion, but nothing past that.

Marco grimaced. “Yes,” he said, “happenings.”

Newgate waited in silence for his son to continue. He was waiting patiently, as far as Marco could hopefully tell, but he was also feeling somewhat excited. Marco was serious, but not grave, and he was hesitating in a way he wouldn't if Newgate should actually be worried.

Marco sighed, and continued obligingly. “There have been fires, lately,” and this Newgate had noticed. More of them than usual, perhaps, but still hardly worthy of notice on the Moby Dick. “And things keep getting moved around.” Also hardly strange, given the budget they have set aside for alcohol. “There are bugs everywhere, too, beetles, and we’re going through food faster than we ever have. Thatch swears it’s disappearing.” Newgate’s brow furrowed. Hungry pirates were far from rare, but his children knew better than to steal it out from under Thatch’s nose. At least, not so often anyway.

Still, Newgate wasn’t sure what that meant. He had a thought, but it seemed so outlandish that he again waited for Marco. Surely, there was something else at play here.

”Pops,” Marco said, quiet and apologetic and just a bit baffled, “I think we have stowaways.” Stowaways. Plural.

It made sense, if food was disappearing so quickly, but it was still an amazing idea. Someone—multiple someones—had seen the vast, imposing ship of the famed Whitebeard Pirates and decided to hitch a ride. Maybe there were a few promising brats on the seas these days after all. And closer than expected, at that.

”Stowaways,” he marveled aloud, looking around at the various nooks and crannies in just his room. An old, lived-in ship like theirs would have had a thousand places to hide even if it were the size of a normal galleon. No wonder they hadn’t been seen yet.

”Pops,” Marco said again, this time sounding as annoyed as he ever got with his father, “you can’t adopt them, yoi.”

Newgate laughed. His son knew him so well. “Why not?” he asked, smiling. “Don’t you want some new siblings? It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Some new blood would be nice.”

Marco sighed and moved to sit on the armrest of Newgate’s chair. “Maybe some new blood that isn’t wreaking havoc even before they’re invited onto the Moby. Stowing away is a serious offense, Pops,” Marco said, voice incredulous.

”Nonsense,” Newgate responded, chuckling. “I’m the captain; it’s only a serious offense when I say it is, and I say that I want to meet these brats before I decide anything.” Something about them and their list of offenses seemed so playful and young. He was already pretty sure they’d fit in perfectly. Something occurred to him, and he glanced over at Marco, who was rubbing his temples. “We haven’t found them?” he asked.

Marco looked up, expression flat. “No, Pops,” he said. “I don’t think they’ve been found since we started talking five minutes ago, yoi.”

Newgate grinned at that, but it dropped soon after as he frowned slightly in thought. “I mean to say that you’ve been looking, haven’t you?” Marco nodded, a small furrow between his brows. “And you’ve found nothing?”

After a moment, Marco shook his head. “We’ve looked everywhere we could think of, yoi. Nothing, apart from the occasional scrap or bone leftover from whatever they stole. No belongings, no makeshift beds… nothing.”

Sitting back in his chair, Newgate hummed. “And Observation?” he asked.

Marco froze. Newgate wasn’t surprised. There was no reason for it to occur to them. If whoever had snuck aboard the ship was traceable by haki, they would have been discovered immediately by Newgate or one of his many children with the ability, Marco included. There was no reason to purposefully search with Observation when their father could use it naturally.

”…Shit,” Marco said eventually. Newgate nodded in agreement, a small smile tugging at his lips.

With an ability like this, his new children, whoever they were, were sure to be an interesting addition.

Newgate kept an eye out for any of the ‘happenings,’ as Marco put it. He wasn’t sure how he’d missed them before, honestly. Although, he supposed the fires and shattering objects were standard enough fare, if he didn’t realize no one had been around to cause them. And no one was around. Several times, Newgate would glance away from something for one moment only for it to be aflame in the next.

It should have been impossible.

Marco had taken his realization to heart, but despite actively searching with Observation, there was still no sign of them. Newgate had tried too; every so often, as he roamed about the Moby, he would push out his awareness’s reach and search for any presence that didn’t belong to one of his children.

He was sitting on the deck, trying his best to be quiet and still—something his children seemed to find concerning, given their not so subtle glances—when an empty barrel burst apart on the portside. Newgate hadn’t been looking when it happened, but he was looking now. He closed his eyes quickly, catching himself, and instead focused on sensing rather than seeing. He reached out with his Observation, straining to the point that a small headache began to form.

He heard the yelling pick up, alongside the distinctive sound of wood bursting into flame. He held stubbornly onto his focus and to his haki.

There. A flare of… nothing. Of absence. As if there was a pinprick hole in his Observation that had suddenly expanded and he caught it just as it was shrinking back down. It was easier, though, now that he’d noticed it. In fact, it was easier to feel all three of the small non-presences.

He turned to see a few of his sons yelling out and running to douse the sudden fire, but his eyes followed the holes in his senses instead as they trailed away from the scene, bouncing around—somehow, he got the sense that they were laughing.

Newgate rose from his seat, and the non-presences came to a halt when he stepped out in front of them. He probably hadn’t quite managed eye contact, but he knew he was close. He looked at all three of them in turn.

”And just where do you think you’re going?” he asked in his most “disapproving father” voice. The non-presences—which he was rapidly beginning to think were somehow very young—jumped back, startled and abashed all at once. Like they responded instinctively despite knowing he shouldn’t be able to see them or even sense them. But who else could he be talking to? Still, he thought it best to make sure they were absolutely certain he could before they ran off again. “You three have been causing an awful lot of trouble on our ship lately. I’m quite curious why that is.” And what you are, he didn’t add. It seemed rude, somehow, and while Newgate was a pirate and didn’t normally shy away from such things, he’d donned his kid gloves. Just in case.

The non-presences shifted a bit. Newgate thought maybe they were looking at each other. Suddenly, there were more flares from each of them, though they were almost too subtle to notice even when he was paying such close attention. A conversation, perhaps? Maybe Newgate could even figure out a way to communicate with them, some way to translate the meaning of different flares and dips and changes. Almost like aura reading—a skill granted only by the fruit one of his daughters had found and sold off a few years back. It hadn’t seemed worth the cost of her ability to swim, but there was always a market for Devil Fruits, even the useless ones—especially if you were as great a liar and scammer as she was.

Newgate was doing his best to read them and react accordingly, but when enough time had passed and they hadn’t moved, he decided a prompt wouldn’t hurt. “Well?” he said, voice raised just a bit, but trying not to sound angry—just impatient. If they’d been inclined to such havoc, even somewhere as dangerous to strangers as the Whitebeard’s pirate ship, they probably weren’t fans of authority. But they’d responded well enough to his first confrontation, so he tried not to be too worried about it.

His children were looking at him strangely, and those who hadn’t been on the deck were slowly drifting out. Newgate paid them no mind, not looking away from the three non-presences.

And slowly, they began to move. Not running away, just trudging toward the cabins. Newgate followed dutifully, back straight and tall until he had to duck down. They led him toward the First Division’s hall, and then toward Marcos quarters. He hadn’t been on the deck, so Newgate was unsurprised to see him when he opened the door. Marco, on the other hand, startled. It was rare he let his guard down, but in his cabin in the depths of the Moby was as safe a place as any. Safer, even. If anything did happen, he’d hear the commotion above or someone would come and get him.

“So it’s Marco’s fault?” Newgate asked.

Marco’s eyes widened, and his brows furrowed a moment later. He frowned, glancing back at the small crowd of his siblings who’d followed Newgate down here. It was fair enough. It probably looked like they were accusing him of something and hiding behind Newgate’s skirts. No one wanted to face Marco’s wrath and it was quite unlikely he’d done anything, after all.

But rather than address any of that, Newgate did his best to stay on task when he wasn’t quite sure what the task was.

The non-presences had flared slightly when he asked, but Newgate wasn’t sure if it meant yes or no. He scanned around the room, looking for another cause or even a sign of something Marco had done that could attract three menaces to the ship in recompense.

Newgate’s breath caught in his throat when his gaze settled on the splash of yellow sitting innocently on Marco’s desk. A small trail of beetles was circling it, climbing up the desk and edging closer now that he was distracted. Marco brushed them aside without looking. “Pops?” he asked unsurely.

”Where’d you pick that up?” Newgate asked. He’d hoped his voice sounded simply curious, but Marco’s face shifted and he was sure some of the strange mix of emotions had come across.

”…back on Dawn,” Marco said slowly, almost cautiously. “It was in an old treehouse. I don’t know why I picked it up.”

Newgate hummed, unable to take his eyes off of it. Was this what the non-presences had brought him here to see? Was this their answer? It seemed impossible that it could have been for anything else.

Jaw clenched and fingers shaking just the smallest bit, Newgate picked up the worn straw hat from Marco’s desk. Marco eyed it warily, like he wanted to protest but he wasn’t sure why.

”I see,” Newgate said, even though he wasn’t sure he did. Still, he turned on his heel and walked back out of the hall and toward his own cabin. It was a much larger space and far more comfortable for the processing of shifts in his world view. His children jumped out of his way, still very confused, but the three non-presences trailed after him.

He didn’t pause or look back or speak until he’d settled in at his desk. If he had to try and describe the non-presences just then and the way they shifted about, he might have chosen “restless.”

Even then, Newgate stayed quiet for what might have been a long time. So long as the non-presences showed no sign of leaving, he’d allow himself to take it.

He spun the too-familiar straw brim around as he sat, too many memories and thoughts swirling around in his mind.

He remembered Roger’s brat smiling wide, head bare for the first time in decades, and telling him he’d bet it and his left arm on a new era. He remembered the lively crew becoming sullen and angry and violent not a year later. Newgate had assumed the bet hadn’t paid off, in one devastating way or another.

He remembered Garp becoming much the same, even if he hadn’t connected the two just yet. He remembered hearing that his old friend had suddenly gone on a rampage in the Goa Kingdom, seemingly out of nowhere, and that it had been bad enough that the World Government couldn’t get out of dishonorably discharging their great Hero of the Marines. He remembered Garp disappearing and isolating himself so heavily that Newgate hadn’t been able to track him down, venturing out on his own to look despite many protests, and when he finally had, he found a broken shell of the man he once knew. He remembered keeping it to himself—just as quiet and under wraps as the World Government had kept the entire affair themselves. Newgate was pretty sure not even his children knew the full truth of it.

He remembered visiting Dawn Island and Garp’s home village of Foosha in search of answers, grasping at the tales he’d heard of great beasts unheard of in the weakest sea as an excuse. He remembered the answers he was given when he asked for them, and he remembered being enraged and saddened by them.

The young barmaid’s words came back to him. Ah, she’d said sadly, Garp-san had three grandsons. Great boys. We… lost them, a while back. There was a fire.

It couldn’t be possible. The Grand Line was a sea of mysteries, and Whitebeard had seen a great many things in his years, but this… The very thought was ridiculous. Still, he thought about the stories the barmaid had shared, and a word itched at the back of his throat. Newgate saw no reason to hold it back—if he was wrong, only he was there to witness the mistake.

”Luffy,” he said quietly, sounding the name out. One of the pinprick nothingnesses jolted. Newgate inhaled sharply. Damn. “Ace. Sabo.” The other pinpricks jolted—startled as well.

The silence stretched again as Newgate processed. They weren’t just young then, they were children. Very small children: two of them ten, and one only seven. Although, Newgate wasn’t quite sure how that worked, actually, since they were seemingly also… ghosts. Somehow. Perhaps they continued to age normally. Perhaps they aged, but more slowly than a regular human—a living one, that was. Perhaps they hadn’t aged at all, forever frozen in time. Newgate could only hope they didn’t exist in the agony of their deaths.

“I know your grandfather,” he tried. An instinctive… shiver, almost, ran through the three non-presences—the boys—and Newgate laughed. He imagined Garp was a bit of a terror as a grandparent. But all the same, the boys shifted closer. They’d been at sea for months now, away from friendly faces, and Newgate doubted Garp came by the island for a visit very often.

For a moment, Newgate entertained the idea of turning around and bringing the boys back to their home, leaving the hat with its rightful owners—a hat so important that they followed it out to sea. But then he thought about the non-presences of them that only the finest tuned haki could sense, and he dismissed the idea as quickly as it came. It would be a lonely eternity. There was little point in being surrounded by loved ones if they couldn’t see or hear you. Newgate wasn’t actually sure if it would be worse. He was sure, however, that the three would fit in well here. That enough of his children would be able to sense them that Newgate could adopt them and give them some new loved ones to be surrounded by—ones that could acknowledge them and maybe even interact, to an extent.

And that got Newgate thinking all over again. Could they interact? Haki was an execution of the spirit, of will, and these boys had already shown they have plenty of that. They could probably interact a lot more if they could use Armament. Maybe, if they got good enough at it, they could even become visible to someone with powerful enough Observation. He kept the idea to himself, just for now. It was best to ease them in before he offered something like that. It sounded too much like false hope, even in his own mind.

”I also know the red-haired brat who gave you this hat,” he said, raising it slightly in gesture. The smallest one—Luffy, if he remembered correctly—perked up and bounded forward, even as his brothers lurched slightly, like they were trying to pull him back. Newgate felt oddly touched as the boy climbed up his pant leg and settled on his thigh, completely trusting. It was odd, too, sensing the movements and knowing he was there but not feeling any of it physically. “I’ve got quite a few stories about the both of them, too,” he added, trying to sound off-handed and not too obvious. Luffy bounced in place a bit and, after a moment, the other two started moving to join him. 

Newgate grinned. Yes, this would do nicely. The three of them seemed like excellent additions to the family.