Chapter Text
Marco pauses in the doorway of the mess, eyes narrowed in sleepy suspicion. It’s still early, breakfast barely started, yet there sat his youngest brother alone at a table and engrossed in reading the paper. Ace’s sleep schedule was unpredictable, sure, but he hardly ever gave the papers a second glance and certainly never took the time to sit and read an article. Alarm bells were starting to ring in the back of Marco’s mind, instantly reaching out with Observation Haki to make sure the ship’s other pranksters weren’t lurking nearby, but this didn’t seem like a setup.
Torn between grabbing his coffee in peace and mitigating whatever disaster Ace’s sudden interest in the news portended, Marco approaches the table. Ace doesn’t look up from the paper until he’s a few paces away, grinning widely and immediately shoving the paper into Marco’s face.
“Oh, Marco! Looks like Luffy might be visiting soon after all!” His excited wiggling makes the paper impossible to read, but Marco’s stomach drops with dread even before he snatches the paper from the boy’s hand and takes a seat across from him. As expected, the grinning face of Ace’s big brother takes up most of the front page, promising yet another insane story. But nothing could’ve prepared Marco for the headline: HAPPILY NEVER AFTER: STRAWHAT CRASHES BIG MOM’S TEA PARTY WEDDING!
He reads the article with a pinched brow as it details the “cunning” and “strategic brilliance” of Strawhat’s destruction of multiple islands in Totto Land — from the few stories Ace has told, he knows how poorly those descriptions pair with the Strawhat captain. He’s hesitantly confused by the mentions of the boy’s apparently massive fleet of followers, given that they didn’t seem to accompany him on this suicidal excursion, until he reaches the article’s closing argument.
“The fifth emperor?” Marco scoffs. “That seems a bit presumptive. All he’s done so far is piss off half the New World-yoi.”
Ace just cackles, making grabby hands for the paper. “He’s only been back a month and he’s already picking fights with Emperors! I bet he’ll be after Pops next.”
Marco raises an eyebrow at the carefree announcement. “You should be more worried about that-yoi. Even if Pops doesn’t kill him because he’s important to you, he’s gotta survive two other Emperors first."
“Pfft! Luffy wouldn't lose to a bunch of old geezers!" Ace waves him off.
“Hey, have some respect for your captain!" Marco splutters. “You just spent three months trying to kill him, but you think your brother can handle him and Kaido and Big Mom?”
Ace’s amusement fades, and he meets Marco’s eyes with a level stare. “Yes. He’s going to be the Pirate King, which means he’s going to surpass all of the Emperors.” The conviction in his voice makes Ace’s opinion sound like law.
“Then you should be more worried for Pops! What, you’re just gonna let some New World rookie take out our captain?” Marco grasps, trying to figure out what logic Ace was operating under.
“Hey now, what am I supposed to do about him? I’m even more of a rookie than he is! If Pops can’t win against Luffy, that’s his problem. Besides, Luffy’s not a monster; he’s not out for blood. He’ll probably just ask for a good fight.” The glint in Ace’s eye says he knows he’s being a little shit, but Marco can’t actually find a fault in his argument. He doesn’t bother to point out that Ace was out for Whitebeard’s blood just a month ago, deciding this wasn't a fight worth having.
By this point, other crew members have started trickling into the mess for breakfast. Some sat a few seats down from the bickering pair, absently listening in on the conversation, while Deuce made his way over with two trays of food in hand, one stacked significantly higher than the other.
“You mean you wouldn’t protect us from your big, scary brother, Ace?” Deuce teases, putting both trays on the table before plopping down next to his former captain.
“No way in hell,” Ace agrees amiably, already starting to stuff his face. “No interfering in others’ fights. ‘S the family’s rules.”
Marco directs a raised brow at Deuce at this weirdly chivalrous rule, knowing Ace would likely be too focused on his food to make much conversation. Deuce just shrugs in response, cutting into his breakfast much more sedately. “Their whole family trained together, I guess. It’d be pretty chaotic if everyone started dogpiling on one of them,” he offers with the air of someone who’s never actually managed to get that story out of Ace.
“‘S ‘cause Gramps got mad if we tried to tag team him,” Ace remarks, pausing his mad dash through breakfast to shudder at the thought. As their table tries to digest the implications of that statement, Izou slides into the seat next to Marco, bearing an extra coffee mug. They give Marco a questioning look, hesitant to interrupt the suddenly dour atmosphere.
Deciding it’s too early to touch that topic with a ten-foot pole, Marco takes a sip of fresh coffee and teases, “I dunno, Ace, it just sounds to me like you love Luffy more than the whole Whitebeard crew combined, if you’re gonna side with him like that.”
Ace takes a slow bite of food, chewing and swallowing carefully before speaking. “There’s that, too,” he finally responds with a shit-eating grin. Izou splutters their offense for the whole crew while Marco and Deuce roll their eyes at the boy’s antics.
Garp walks off the elevator with the proud posture befitting a Vice Admiral, ignoring the jeering prisoners on either side of him. He had arrived at Impel Down right after lunch, and the warden, already squirming in discomfort, grumbling stomach audible from across the room, hadn't needed much convincing to let him go to Level Six alone. Garp takes full advantage of his lack of observers by immediately seating himself in front of the cell as soon as he reaches it, propriety be damned. He takes a moment to brace himself before looking up, meeting his oldest grandson's eyes unflinchingly.
Luffy looks like shit, and Garp is about to tell him as much when Luffy blurts out, “Gramps! My crew, do you know what happened to my crew?” His eyes are ablaze as he strains forward as far as the shackles chained to the wall will allow, arms stretching unnaturally despite what Garp knows to be seastone clamped tight to each limb.
Garp ignores his grandson's question, taking in the layers of injuries creating a timeline on his body: the tattered bandages once wrapped with care, now dirtied with grime and dried blood from fresher injuries; the scrapes and scabs littering his visible skin; the slight sag of his clothes and skin proof of missed meals; the lines of fresher blood along his arms marking rubber stretched past its breaking point. It's the last that prompts Garp to answer, seeing new beads of blood well up as the boy strains for an answer.
“They're certainly better off than you! Ran right away from Blackbeard, and nobody's heard jack from them since,” he harrumphs in obvious displeasure, waving Luffy's concerns away. Maybe if they'd stayed to protect their captain…
This line of thought is cut off by Luffy's obvious joy and relief, the boy sagging back against the wall with a massive grin on his face as if the prison and chains weren't even there. “Ah, that's good! I was worried they'd be stubborn about it, but I should've known they're too smart for that! Shishishishi~”
The boiling anger for a crew that would leave their captain in the hands of a rival crew finds a new target in the idiot captain who apparently ordered his crew to abandon him. “You stupid brat! What do you think you're doing, getting caught by Blackbeard of all people? I raised you to be an upstanding Marine; it's dishonorable, getting beaten by such a good-for-nothing pirate.”
Luffy's smile fades, lips pouting. “I don't wanna be a Marine, I'm gonna be the Pirate King! And stupid Blackbeard cheated; I won't let him win next time.”
Garp leans forward, hissing, “There is no next time, brat, you're in Impel Down! Do you get what that means? Nobody's ever escaped, and they definitely won't let you slip away now that that upstart Doflamingo has gotten everyone riled up.”
He pauses, extending his Observation further throughout Level Six until he feels the slimy, apathetic signature of the man in question, locked up in the far corner of the floor. Satisfied that his words won't travel far enough to reach him, Garp continues, “He convinced enough of the Marines transporting him here that you're Roger's kid. The rumor's spread through the ranks, and now the higher-ups believe it too! Senny knows I can't lie for shit, but he thinks Dragon tricked me into taking you in. They're scheduling your execution for next week.”
Garp hangs his head, ashamed at his failure to protect his family from the system he serves, the system he still believes in (has to believe in, because if not for the Marines, who would protect the innocent?)
(He once again silences the voice asking, if not for the Marines, would the children of Baterilla still live? Ohara?)
“Ah, that's all then? It's really boring here, I was wondering when it would get exciting!” Luffy continues relaxing against the concrete behind him without a care in the world, arms dangling loosely from the chains holding them up.
“That's all?!” Garp splutters. “If you were just another criminal, they'd keep you locked up here like the rest of them, but they think they're executing Rogers’ son! If I can convince them you're Dragon's kid, then–”
“Don't.” At this, Luffy is suddenly more serious than he's been the entire time he's been imprisoned. “Don't be stupid, Gramps! Dragon’s kid won't be treated any better. And the Government already knows Roger’s kid survived, right? Don't ruin his adventure with another stupid witch hunt.”
Unwilling to accept the truth in Luffy's logic, Garp instead grumbles, “Be more respectful of your Grandpa! If you'd all just become Marines like I raised you, nobody would've cared who your parents are. None of this would've happened if you weren't criminals.”
Luffy sticks his tongue out. “Bleugh! Where's the adventure in that? I don't wanna be stuck here another week anyway, we told Torao we'd catch up as soon as we got Sanji back, and he's probably already grumpy about waiting.”
Garp takes a deep breath, trying to rein in his frustration. It doesn't help. “How do you think you're getting out of this? You're in an impenetrable prison, on the most secure level, with the full force of the Navy preparing for your execution.”
His idiot grandson just shrugs, attention already lost as he tries to tangle his toes together for want of anything better to do. “Ehh, I don't know! I'll break out, or my crew will come get me, or you could let me out? Hey, Gramps, do you have the keys to these?” He wiggles his arms, rattling the chains holding him to the wall and finally looking back up at Garp with wide, guileless eyes.
“Idiot! I’m a Vice Admiral, I can't break a wanted criminal out of custody!” If the cell’s bars weren't separating them, Garp would've already gifted his grandson a few Fists of Love with the hopes of knocking some sense into the boy.
“Ah, whatever, then stop worrying so much.” Luffy shrugs again, changing the topic as if he hadn't really expected his grandfather to help him. “Hey, do you have any food on ya? I'm starving!”
The weight of his failure is crushing down on Garp's chest in the shape of the memory of holding Luffy for the first time, small enough to fit in one hand, as Dragon pled, “Keep him safe. I understand your anger with me a lot better now; revolution is no place for your son to grow up. But I can't let thousands suffer just so I can keep him close.” Yet no one has ever accused the Hero of the Marines of being weak; he hasn't met a challenge he couldn't beat, and his shoulders remain proud despite the emotion attempting to break him. Garp reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and takes out his stash of rice crackers, tossing one through the bars. Luffy eagerly catches it in his mouth and swallows without chewing.
Garp has never been a great storyteller, as his grandsons always pointed out when he visited, but the days of captivity seem to have lowered Luffy's standards considerably. He tells his own tales of growing up on Dawn Island, Luffy occasionally interrupting when reminded of his own similar stories, tossing more crackers through the bars as he goes.
It's past time for Garp to leave when he finally crumples the empty wrapper into a ball, and the look in Luffy's eyes as he stares back says he already knows. It's the same look as every other time Garp has had to leave his family behind in the name of duty, and the lack of blame in it never fails to remind him I don't deserve these kids.
Without a word, Garp stands, a Vice Admiral once more. Luffy grins up at him, chirping, “Thanks for the food and stories! And for checking on my crew for me!”
Garp shakes his head to hide the tears gathering in his eyes. “Shitty brat! Worry about yourself, why don't you?” He strolls back out of Level Six, hoping his grandson's optimism carries him through another impossible disaster. The elevator doors close on the sound of Luffy singing to himself about fighting the Tiger King.