Work Text:
‘How could I be so careless ?’
‘I thought I had it under control.’
‘I thought I did– but– I got distracted..’
Thoughts wrang through your head.
‘I’m sorry’
Every thought gnawed away at you.
‘I didn't mean to-’
‘I was doing good, but he.. he got under my skin and I- and I-’
They picked at your brain and dissected the way you thought of yourself.
‘It’s not fair.’
You couldn't stop thinking. Each thought pounded against the wall you spent so long building. Chipping away the barrier you put up.
It was a deep gash on your side, starting below your underarm and traveling down to the side of your stomach.
You didn't mean to get hurt, of course, but you didn't know your opponent knew what you'd been through, what you had to grow up with. It was a touchy topic.. how you grew up.
You now sat in the medical room of the ship, getting stitched up by Marco. While also getting a lecture on how you shouldn't let your opponent get under your skin, how you shouldn't get distracted, or sidetracked because of offhand comments.
You didn't say anything. You never did anyway.
That's how you were raised.
Another nasty sting wrang through your body as your wound gets treated. Reminiscing on your past, as memories flood back to you.
Memories of beatings and punishments you could do little to forget. How you were used by your own parents, drained of all you could offer and sold off.
They didn't want a child. They wanted a slave. You were expected to listen and do as you were told, and not to make a noise.
“Make a sound again and I'll beat you til’ you can't anymore.”
Their voices rang through your ears.
“Talk again. You won't get your share of food.”
How you had to learn the hard way.
“Are you listening to me?”
You were immediately sent back to reality, hearing Marco’s voice. He must've noticed you weren't listening.
You nodded.
Marco sighs and finishes up the last few stitches. “I know he attacked you in more ways than one, but you have to understand that you can't let it get to you.”
You raised your eyes to look at him speaking so at least he'd know you're not being rude.. and actually listening.
“You could've gotten hurt more than this if you weren't careful.”
You turn your head away.
Marco finishes dressing your wound, and sends you out. Reassuring you that you'd be alright.
Your head hangs low as you make your way to the women's quarters to get some rest.
—
The ship is illuminated by the blanket of stars that hang over the sky. The breeze is cool against your skin, sending chills down your spine as you take in a sharp, shaky breath. As you walk, you realize how quiet it is, and how usually, it isn't quiet at all.
You're always hanging around Ace. Loud, and fiery spirited. He seems to understand what you mean and how you feel without saying a word. Like he can read your mind, or he's just good at recognizing body language.
He makes you feel seen, makes you feel heard, even if you never make a noise. Although you still feel alone, Ace makes you feel warm in this cold, cold world.
And now in the quietness of the night, you find yourself longing for that warmth. Longing for something you know you'll never get to have. How could you? You couldn't even talk to him if you wanted to.
As you continue to your destination, still making your way across the deck, you could only think of what a coincidence it would be to run into him this late at-
You're quickly falling backwards due to the impact of something in front of you, and as quickly as you fall you quickly forget you have a deep gash in your side.
You catch yourself on the railing, leaning on it for support as a deep pain beats through your body. The wound on your side obviously didn't like what you did, and you quickly hold onto your side like you're going to split in two.
What, or who did you run into ?
You hear a slightly surprised gasp.
“Oh- I'm s' sorry-”
Someone with a very familiar voice starts, you quickly look up to see who the voice belongs to, convincing yourself that your ears are deceiving you.
None other than Portgas D. Ace stands in front of you, his face holding a worried look.
“Are you ok f/n– I didn't mean to run into you.”
Ace says concerned, but doesn't wait for you to nod yes or no,
“Marco told me what had happened..”
He trails off looking at you, and you refuse to look at him.
You stand up more, leaning off the railing. You hang your head low, watery eyes threatening to spill.
How could you let your commander see you like this? All of this because you got hit by a couple of rude comments and threats. You didn't know your past could come back and hit you this hard.
A hand comes to rest on your shoulder, a warm hand. The warmth spreads through you, reminding you of what you could never have.
“F/n..” He said softly, slouching down to be eye level with you. His hand moved from your shoulder to your chin, turning you to look at him, to look him in the eyes. As the sting in your eyes becomes harder to ignore.
“F/n it's ok–whatever's wrong– it's ok.” His voice soft, but firm.
You've never felt so weak. You've never felt so confused. You've always been able to keep your emotions in check.. but something just pushed you over the edge.
Years of pent up emotion slowly started to come up to the surface, you could feel tears streaming down your face, trying your best to control your breathing so as to not break out in sobs.
Ace’s face immediately deepened with worry, but said nothing. His hand on your chin went behind your head and the other arm wrapped around you, careful to avoid your injury, as he pulled you into his bare chest.
His warmth spread through you once more. Your head fell into his chest and your hands, your quiet sobs ringing in your ears.
One arm keeping you pulled into his chest as the other softly rubs your head, trying to provide comfort, even if he didn't know what it was. You knew he had an idea of what was wrong, he did say Marco told him what happened. But right now that didn't matter, even if you weren't ready to say what was wrong, he was there.. and that's all you needed at the moment.
Standing in the cool breeze of the night, the two of you stood in the quiet of the night, as your sobs slowly calmed down. You take a shaky breath, breathing in the scent of the one holding you.
You open your mouth, hesitant, but wanting to nonetheless..
You haven't spoken in years.
But you wanted to say something – you wanted Ace to know you were thankful, so he knows that you appreciate his comfort.
You take another breath, a bit more firm than the last, still hesitant but finally pushing yourself to speak.
“Thank you”
Two very quiet, and vague words came out of your mouth. The feeling weird in your throat, and sounding weird in your ears. It didn't quite sound like a thank you, but it was good enough.
Ace looked down at you with a warm expression, responding in a voice just as quiet “Of course” before kissing the top of your head and holding you closer, like you'd disappear. He seemed to understand, and you were forever grateful.
That was all you needed to hear.. all you needed to get through the night. You were content. You were free. And you can hold on to the warmth of this world.