Work Text:
It’s not quite breakfast time yet when Ace pokes his head out of the cabin where he’s been staying, which makes him hesitate to go anywhere else on the Red Force quite yet. Sure, Shanks said he’s a guest, and welcome to help himself to anything, but... still. Pretty sure at least one of his lessons about manners from Makino included ‘not poking your nose into things you shouldn’t while you’re in another person's home’, or something like that.
He’s still staring out into the corridor, debating what to do, when a door further down eases open and Benn slips out.
Huh.
“Hey, kid,” the man says, walking closer. Pretty sure his cabin is the one right across from where Ace has been sleeping. Pretty sure the cabin Ace has been in belongs to Shanks, even if no one has outright said that. Which does beg the question, where has the captain been sleeping, and follow-up, how often, considering Shanks seems to pretty much be splitting time between watching Figarland and checking on Ace.
But.
For the moment.
Benn Beckman.
“You okay?” Ace asks, eyeing the guy closely. There’s a half-mended shirt slung over his shoulder, rifle in hand, unlit cigarette in his mouth.
“Mmhm. You?”
“I’m alright.” And he is. He is. His bumps and bruises are clearing up now that Ace has gotten some decent meals in him, and he took a long hot bath, and none of that even touches on how immediately he felt better getting the damn seastone off, feeling his flames light back up. Ace is doing just fine. “Where’s Shanks?”
Benn lets out a short sigh, head tipping back the way he just came. “Back on guard duty. Any idea how long he slept?” Considering he’d been asleep himself and has no idea where Shanks went during that time, Ace shrugs. “Hm. Well. I’ll see if I can convince him to try again in a couple hours, after we get some food shoved down his throat. You get some more rest too, kid, you’re still pale as a ghost.” And with that, Benn ducks into his cabin, silently shutting the door.
Ace doesn’t do the same.
He bites his lip. Peers down the hall. Reminds himself sternly that he’s a goddamn pirate, appointed Second Division Commander, and no beaten, bed-ridden enemy is going to scare him.
Even so, it takes an awful long couple of minutes to make himself ease down to the door Benn came out of. Longer to raise his fist and quietly knock. At least the muffled greeting from inside kick-starts his hand into grabbing the knob and twisting it open, and from there the manners Makino spent years driving into his thick skull take over, prompting Ace to step inside and shut the door before a draft can follow him through.
Figarland is lying on the bed inside, left shoulder heavily padded, bandages wrapped around his chest and ribs. Shanks is sitting at the foot of his bed, slumped, right arm braced across his knees. They both look surprised to see Ace, though Shanks is a lot more open about it. But the captain recovers quickly, offering a small grin. “Hey, kiddo. You need something?”
Ace swallows. Darts a quick, wary glance at Figarland, whose expression has smoothed back out, before making himself focus just on Shanks. “What’s up with Benn? He’s got a different Stressed Face.”
A blink. And then a snort. “Stressed Face?”
“What else am I gonna call it,” Ace mutters, suddenly feeling like a kid, giving Sabo a crash course on how to tell when Dadan was actually angry or just pretending. “Something’s changed.”
Shanks loses the grin, blowing out a deep breath. He sits back, aims his own glance at Figarland. “Well. Shammy here just let him into what’s going on, same as he already told me. I’m pretty sure Beck is more onboard with not stabbing my twin through the heart, but. Well.”
“Still stressed.”
“Yeah.”
Ace refuses to gulp, even if each hand does ball up into a fist in his pockets. “So? What is going on?”
“Preventing the future from coming to pass,” Figarland says before Shanks can answer. His voice is raspy. Weak. Not at all like that arrogant tone when he was slapping Ace around. And damn if hearing the difference doesn’t help the blood pounding in his ears slow back down a bit. “Starting with your imminent demise.”
In an instant, Shanks goes razor sharp, whipping around to stare at the Celestial. Doesn’t ask ‘what’, though. Doesn’t demand to know if that’s supposed to be a threat. After a tense moment, what he does ask has Ace’s heart skipping a beat: “Fuck. Whitebeard wasn’t able to save him from execution?”
“Tried,” Figarland mutters. “Along with others. Including you, and Strawhat. Wasn’t enough.” What- wait, what- The words don’t come out, but Ace must make some kind of noise, or maybe the bastard just continues anyway. “I do not know the exact particulars, but Strawhat arrived with a stolen ship full of Impel Down escapees, succeeded in getting Firefist off the execution platform, but didn’t get him away completely before one of the Admirals struck a fatal blow.”
No- no, that- that didn’t make any sense. Ace hasn’t GOTTEN to an execution platform, he- and no way Luffy would be there, that’s not possible- he- he wouldn’t-
The wall hitting his back is jarring. So is colliding with the floor, immediately after. And then Shanks is there, arm wrapping around his shoulders, and he’s shaking- or no, Ace is shaking- or maybe both of them-?
“-deep breath in, come on kid, and let it out, there you go, again, breathe in with me, easy, easy does it-” Shanks keeps talking, and Ace tries to focus on that, on slowing down the air coming in and out of his lungs. Tries not to imagine it, the platform, the crowd, an image of Loguetown from his one and only visit mixed in with marines, and Luffy-
“Lu,” Ace gasps out. “Did- Luffy-”
“Survived.” Figarland has pushed himself up on the narrow bed, staring at Ace and Shanks in a way that should make his skin crawl, but doesn’t, somehow. “Disappeared for two years afterward, and then returned as an even larger menace to the World Government.”
Shanks snorts. Eases his tight grip on Ace’s shoulders in favor of reaching up to ruffle his hair, something the man’s been doing constantly since they got off of Figarland’s boat. “That tracks, anyway. I don’t suppose you know any specifics?”
“Meddled in more of the Navy’s affairs. Deposed that upstart Warlord, Donquixote. And then became an Emperor after defeating the Beast of Wano.”
That’s- what.
“...holy shit,” Shanks says, after a stunned pause. Ace wants to clean his ears out, maybe trying hearing that again, but his hands won’t let go of their grip on the cape Shanks somehow draped around him without Ace noticing. “Luffy beat Kaido?”
“And Awakened his Fruit.”
Ace jumps when Shanks lets out an excited whoop. “Hot DAMN, I can’t believe it! What does that even look like, his Awakened form?”
Figarland’s eyes narrow. “A threat.”
“Ah. Right.” Even so, Shanks keeps on grinning as he tips his head back. Although it fades, after a minute. Turns thoughtful. “Before. ‘Break the sun’s heart’, you said. Luffy being that big a threat is what made your boss kill me? Hurt him without touching him?”
This time Ace knows he makes a noise, alarm, dismay, whatever, because immediately Shanks has him wrapped in a hug again. Reassuring. As if he didn’t just mention being killed.
The expression on Figarland’s face does something complicated, until he offers a short, sharp nod. “It- will not happen as it did. Not by my hand, at least.” Huh. Huh. “But the threat remains present. From another Knight. Perhaps even Father himself.”
“Yeah, somehow I don’t see that bastard feeling so guilty about killing me he decides to mess with time,” Shanks mutters.
There’s a lot flying over Ace’s head here, he knows that, but his brain also keeps circling back to his own brother. Luffy, beating Kaido. Luffy, Awakening his Devil Fruit and somehow becoming a threat bigger than Shanks. Luffy, watching Ace die.
That last one is too painful to think about for long. So Ace changes gears, makes himself suck in one more shuddering breath, and on the exhale demands, “What the hell kind of Fruit did you feed my six year old brother?”
“Hey, I didn’t feed him anything,” Shanks immediately protests, swaying into Ace. “That little twerp stole it fair and square!”
On the bed, Figarland sighs, long and exasperated and way too much like Marco for Ace’s comfort. “Typical. The most dangerous Devil Fruit in the world, and you allowed a child to abscond with it out from under your nose. Dare I ask what was occupying your attention instead?”
“Drinking.” Figarland huffs. “And flirting.”
Ace, trying to take a mental step back from ‘most dangerous Fruit in the world’, frowns. “Flirting with who?”
Shanks blinks. And smirks, in a way Ace definitely recognizes, because that is the EXACT same expression he uses any time it’s about to be extra fun to mess with Luffy. “Woop-slap.”
“You-!” Ace wheezes, and finally unclenches one hand from the cape in order to slap the man. “That is not fucking funny, he’s as old as Gramps.”
“That’s exactly why it’s funny!” Snickering, Shanks digs his knuckles against Ace’s scalp in retaliation. “And besides, I bet you know just who I was flirting with in that little village.”
“Nuh-uh, Makino is way too smart for that. AND she’s too pretty for you, anyway.”
“Excuse you, brat-”
“Green-haired woman?”
Both Ace and Shanks both freeze. Their eyes snap to Figarland, who’s looking... what’s a good word for it- contemplative. The fucker looks contemplative, and he’d better have a VERY good reason for knowing what Makino looks like.
“Shamrock,” Shanks says, flat, but Ace can feel the haki flickering underneath. “How do you know that.”
Figarland grunts, eyes sliding shut. “After you- after. Once the Phoenix was assured I wouldn’t drop dead, he insisted on personally seeking out a young woman with green hair to- inform her.”
Oh.
...maybe that is a good enough reason.
But Figarland isn’t fucking done, and the next thing he says punches a wounded noise out of Shanks like nothing Ace has heard from the man before: “There was an infant. She hugged it quite close afterward.”
A baby.
Makino has- had- will have, a baby?
“That’s not- there isn’t-” Shanks has to pause and work through a deep breath of his own. “There’s no reason to assume it was mine-”
“Brother. Even from where I was keeping myself concealed, I could see its red hair.”
Another pained noise. Shanks pulls his arm back to himself, to press his face into his palm. “Fuck. Fuck.” Ace hesitates for a second. Then, carefully, he leans over, reaches to slip his own arms around the older man’s torso, and just. Hold on. Shanks huffs, a strangled sort of half-laugh as he sways again, nudging Ace back. “Thanks, kid. Fuck. Sounds like you and I need to do a better job of staying alive this time around, huh?”
“No shit,” Ace mutters back. After a moment, he eases back from clinging quite so tightly. Peers upward. Meets Figarland’s gaze for the first time since stepping into this room. “There’s- I- Look. I don’t like you. Probably not going to either, asshole.” A pointed eyebrow is raised, and Ace scowls, refusing to back down. “But I made a promise to Luffy, when we were kids, after- after our other brother was killed-” Shanks twitches, but he doesn’t let that throw him off either, “I promised him I wouldn’t die. That I wouldn’t leave him alone in this world. And it- it sounds like I wasn’t gonna be able to keep that promise, so.” Deep breath in, slow breath out. “Thanks. For saving me.”
“...it was hardly for your sake,” Figarland mutters, but he’s the one to look away first, and that feels like a minor victory in and of itself. “And besides which- your third brother. Pale, blond hair, likely some sort of noble background, yes?”
Ace blinks.
Feels like the floor is falling away from under him.
Sways, and only Shanks quickly grabbing on keeps his stupid light-headed body from falling over. “How- how the FUCK do you know that?!”
“Because he isn’t dead.” Figarland has the goddamn nerve to roll his eyes. “Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army, a singularly irritating individual who infiltrated the Reverie two years from now and eluded all attempts to kill him afterward, and even before the matter of Emperor status, he announced quite clearly to the marines that any attempt to execute Strawhat Luffy in the same manner as you would be countered by every force he could muster as second in command of those upstart rebels.”
“Huh. Well then,” Shanks says after a minute, while Ace is still reeling. “Guess I’d better call Dragon.”