Work Text:
Years of her childhood went towards brainstorming and debating pirate names with no clear winners, but the minute the newspapers dubbed her big brother ‘Firefist Ace’, Ann knew she’d be going with ‘Goldenglove’ to match.
Sure, that meant repainting the gloves she had at the time, although more often than not using them would split and peel said paint, but she was determined. And when she turned 17, ready to set off on her own pirate journey, Mom gave her a brand new stolen pair of boxing gloves, shiny yellow with red accents, her name hand-stitched just inside each cuff.
They’d always been a team, her and Ace. The Portgas kids. The Devil Duo. Only made it so long in life because their mom Rouge made damn sure to constantly stay on the move, never staying at one island more than a few days, regularly repainting their sails or wood trim if they couldn’t swap ships entirely. Two years of separation when Ace set off on his own meant nothing, not when Ann trained constantly and read every news item she could in preparation for chasing after him.
And she did it, too, blazing through Paradise with a few good friends, stopping at Sabaody just long enough to hug Uncle Ray and Aunt Shakky, and then arriving in the New World only a few months after her birthday. The grin on Ace’s face when Ann climbed straight up the side of the Moby Dick was her proudest accomplishment of seventeen years.
Pops and the rest of his family didn’t hesitate to welcome Ann and her friends into their ranks, not when Ace had been bragging about her non-stop for ages. And for the next year things were great. Amazing! Traveling the sixth sea, learning how to relax without constantly checking for trouble over her shoulder, getting to just- goof off. Without fear. Without worrying that someone would die for the mistake of letting her guard down.
Ann thought she and Ace could be happy for the rest of their lives like that.
And then Blackbeard happened.
Stupid Ace insisted she couldn’t go with him. Said he was the one put in charge of the Second Division, that dealing with the traitor needed to be his responsibility and his alone.
Shanks and Buggy turned up with their crews. Tried to talk Pops into calling Ace back, keep him from falling into deeper trouble, that Teach was too much for one twenty year old rookie to handle alone.
Even Mom sent a letter, saying she was entering the Grand Line for the first time in years to track down her firstborn, and if Pops knew what was good for him he’d call an end to the hunt before she really got mad.
Too late.
Too little, too late.
And now Ann is here, leaping through the unfolding chaos that is Marineford, flaring her haki fast and sloppy just to try and clear herself a wider path, to go a little faster, she needs to go faster, she needs to reach the platform where they’ve got her brother displayed like a fucking trophy, just like their dad-
White uniform, directly in her way.
A face she knows.
A face she usually likes.
A face that’s frowning, grim and unhappy, a far cry from Monkey D. Luffy’s usual smile.
Normally, normally, all Ann has ever needed to do to get the dumb idiot to quit chasing her is shout a silly joke, and Luffy will literally skid to a stop in order to laugh about it. He’s not half bad, for a marine. Like his dad Dragon, the Commander who’s come the closest to capturing the Portgas Family over the years, but always did something wrong on purpose to let them slip away at the last second. Like his grandpa Garp, the Vice Admiral who used to go toe to toe with Dad, who fought alongside Dad once, when the situation called for it, who Ann remembers putting a careful bandage over her knuckles as a toddler and saying she had a mean punch already.
Normally, she and Luffy get along just fine, other than the whole ‘pirate versus marine’ thing.
This isn’t normal.
So she screams, haki rolling with it, “GET OUT OF MY WAY,” and every other marine nearby staggers, topples, but not Luffy. He flinches, but he’s made of sterner stuff than that, thanks to his dad and grandpa’s training.
He’s also still not half bad.
Because he does get out of Ann’s way. Steps aside, and turns, and starts running with her. Frowns deeper, when she glances at him, and mutters “This isn’t right.”
Somebody shouts Luffy’s name. Shocked. Horrified. But he keeps going, and as they come up to the execution platform, he and Ann both lift their arms, and throw matching punches with equally loud battle cries.
It comes down.
How could it not, between a Portgas, a Gol, working with a Monkey?
The platform comes down, and Ace comes with it, and Ann wastes no time getting to him, going at the seastone chains weighing him down and ripping them apart with a vengeance. There’s more shouting, and the sounds of fighting starting up again, coming closer, but Ann is finally within hugging distance of her big brother and she is NOT going to lose focus-!
“Look out!”
Ace grabs her. Twists in place. For one horrible second, Ann sees blazing red, feels an approaching heat far more terrible than her brother’s welcome flames, and-
And-
A shadow.
An impact.
A desperate, disbelieving cry, “LUFFY!”
Luffy.
Braced in place.
A fist made of magma punched straight through him.
Akainu’s expression is furious, looming over the three of them. Then he’s ripped away with a snarl, hurled by Garp’s massive arms, as another man in white with ‘Justice’ on his coat catches Luffy before he can fall. “No, no no no, Luffy, why did you do that-?!”
“S’not right,” Ann’s friend rasps, blood spilling from the corners of his mouth. “They’re not- they didn’t- they never earned this- just, born? It- it’s not right. It’s not, Dad.”
It’s the last thing he says.
Dragon screams. His haki cracks the ground. Ace, finally, starts to move, lurching to his feet. Ann can’t. Ann is stuck, staring, at the marine a year younger than her, a dumb cadet who turned into a dumb petty officer who turned into her friend, somewhere along the way, and he’s- now he’s-
“Ann,” Ace tries to call, scared, more than willing to run while Dragon is grieving, while Garp is busy pounding Akainu into the dirt, pounding so hard the ground is splitting open wider and wider and the cracks are climbing into the air and sky and it takes her entirely too long to realize it’s wrong, something is wrong-
Ann jerks awake, scream caught in her throat. She chokes on it, forces the sound back, clamping both hands over her mouth. Curls into herself, containing the noise, heart pounding, hoping she hasn’t woken anyone else up.
A hand gently settles on her head, and one single sob slips free.
“Shhhh, shh shh shh, c’mere baby,” the hand shifts and another joins it, coaxing Ann to sit up and turn, to lean into Banchina’s welcome embrace, the older woman humming as she starts to stroke long black hair. “Bad dream, baby. Just a bad dream, I promise.”
No.
Not a dream.
A living nightmare, and just because it’s all gone now, doesn’t mean Ann isn’t still grieving what happened at the end.
It isn’t right.