One Piece | Ace | 3.5k | Masterlist
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Bringing Ace temporarily through healed him far better than taking the injuries for yourself had.
You still hated it. It was crude and unpleasant, filling the room with the smell of blood and the wet, strangled sounds his body made when it remembered it needed air. But it worked. So you kept doing it, because every fresh patch of skin meant one less thing that could kill him when you finally pulled him through for good.
Your fingers cramped around the edge of the metal table, the cold biting into your joints while Marco’s fire burned blue against your closed eyelids. You leaned harder, shoulders shaking, and focused on the crackle of flames instead of Ace’s rough breathing. It was only for a few seconds.
The barrier recoiled and snapped back into place. Your knee bumped against the table leg and you allowed yourself to breathe again.
“Alright, yoi?” Marco asked.
You forced your eyes open, nose wrinkling at the harsh scent of iron that hung in the air. “I’m fine,” you said. “It looks like it’s getting better.”
“It is. Quicker than I thought it would.”
“Still feels like shit though,” Ace muttered as he sat up. His voice was rough and painful to hear. His hair fell loosely into his face and he rubbed at his mouth with the back of his hand before shrugging. “Less blood than the last time.”
You smiled gently and stepped closer to help card the hair from his face. “I’ll take it,” you said. “That should mean your lungs are fixing themselves.”
“Better than you swapping it over,” he agreed, smile small but there.
“It’s a ridiculous method,” Marco said. “I’m never doing this for him again, by the way. As a warning before he comes back and immediately does something stupid.”
Ace whipped his head toward Marco. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?!”
You took the opportunity to look down at the injury. It had drawn inward enough that you could no longer see the table through him at a glance. The scorched edges remained ugly, but there was solid warmth where empty space had been before. You brushed your knuckles over the newly healed skin and Ace shivered, his momentary offence at Marco vanishing from his face.
“It looks much better,” you said.
There was a knock on the door before Sabo entered, hat missing from his head but expression proud. “Just a question,” he said. “Sorry, if I’m interrupting, but how close do you have to be? Exact spot or the same island?”
“As close as possible,” you said. “But at this point, I think we can stretch it.”
“We’ve scouted a cove,” he said. “Not perfect but as close as we could get without raising the alarm for every person around. Would that be enough?”
It wasn’t perfect… you almost wanted to deny it and insist on somewhere closer but if that took more time, you were unwilling to give it. Already, you were growing unsure of wasting the opportunity.
“That’ll work,” you said. “How soon can we go?”
“Name the time and we’ll be ready,” Sabo said. He looked toward the blood on the table behind you and winced. “Is everything going alright?”
“Better than before.”
“Right. That’s good.”
Ace glanced at you briefly and then up at Sabo. You saw the conflict before he even asked, saying it as though he hoped for a negative. “Are you too tired to send my voice through?”
You were exhausted. Dragging him back into life wasn’t something that took a light toll on you but his request was enough for you to reach for the dregs of your energy. If he wanted to speak to somebody, you wouldn’t deny it.
“Try,” you offered.
Ace looked toward Sabo, hesitated for a second, and then spoke. “It’s going to leave a massive scar but it’s healing.”
Sabo went completely still.
“Ace?”
Ace flinched at the sound of his name. You kept the barrier as thin as you could reasonably manage it, finding the stretch of your abilities almost as uncomfortable as the anticipation hanging around you.
A breath escaped Sabo that almost became a laugh. He rubbed quickly beneath one eye.
“Right,” he said after a second. “I think we’ve all got one now. Luffy’s is self-inflicted though so that makes his worse.”
“Self-inflicted?” you asked.
“He cut his own face to prove something,” Ace scoffed. “When we were kids but honestly… he’d probably do the same thing now.”
Sabo chuckled. “No. He probably hasn’t changed at all.”
You looked toward Ace’s torso, not sure if you were pleased that it’d scar. It would be a pretty large one, all things considered and would definitely mess up the tattoo on his back. That was the main part that bothered you though you wouldn’t say it aloud.
Then again, anything that kept him here was better. If he was talking about scars then moving on probably wasn’t on his mind.
Hopefully.
“Should we talk later?” Ace asked.
You startled, realising that Sabo and Marco were both looking to you too. You hadn’t been listening for a bit then.
“No, it’s okay,” you said. “If you’d like, I can even step out? I should be able to keep the barrier thin here for both of you to talk.”
“What’s the range on it?” Sabo asked.
“Fifteen steps, round about,” you said as Ace gave the same answer. You smiled. “So far enough that you would be able to talk privately once I’m at the edge of it.”
“Don’t worry,” Sabo said. “We only want to talk about you.”
You rolled your eyes but you were pleased to see the brightness had returned to his expression. The idea of Ace finally being comfortable speaking to him was clearly enough to postpone whatever he had been doing before he stopped by.
“At least balance the good parts with the bad,” you warned playfully.
You pushed yourself away from the table. The room tilted around you for a second and you steadied yourself against the wall before they could notice.
Ace hopped off the table, standing closer to Sabo than before though his brother couldn’t see it. You made your way through the door, far too tired for this. As ridiculous as it sounded, you were almost looking forward to not having to constantly thin the barrier anymore. It was going to be nice to not feel the strain of it.
“Call for me if your voice stops carrying,” you said.
“Will do,” Ace said. “Thanks.”
Marco joined you before you pulled the door closed behind you. It shut with a soft click and you counted yourself down the hall, each step careful as you focused on keeping the barrier thin and allowing Ace’s voice through.
You felt his words slip past. Something about memories and you realised you’d have to purposefully stop yourself from listening.
Great. More things for you to expend what little energy you had.
It was more difficult than you had thought it would be. You were attuned to Ace through the bond and every sound normally echoed louder for you. To be purposefully ignoring it felt wrong enough to slow your steps and you forced yourself to continue forward.
“I think that’s more than fifteen paces, yoi.”
You lifted your head curiously, having not realised that you’d allowed it to hang for so long. Marco’s expression was impassive but he’d paused where you hadn’t. You looked over your shoulder toward the closed door. This did seem like around the right place where you should feel the usual tug of the tether.
You took an experimental step and felt nothing.
Dread coiled like an angry snake in your stomach.
“Lovely,” you said, mostly under your breath. “Guess there’s something wrong with that too. The tether isn’t pulling me back.”
Marco followed your attention to the door. “Wrong how? Is it because of how long he’s been around?”
“That, and other things,” you said. “He needs to move on so it’s happening naturally but… as ridiculous as this sounds, he’s happier. He’s making peace with the idea that he can die and he’s also weakening the connection himself. That’s my best guess at least.”
“Naturally,” Marco said. “We put in hours of work to increase the odds of him coming back, just for him to decide he now accepts his death.”
“I know,” you muttered. “It’s good, in a way. He’s becoming more comfortable and… I mean, I don’t want to be upset about him accepting it –”
“You should be.”
You frowned at Marco’s statement, not having expected it. He didn’t look particularly irritable but something had seeped into his voice. He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Should I?”
“I am. His death was unnecessary. One bad decision should not have cost him everything.” Marco looked back toward the closed door. “All his life, that temper caused trouble. Now it might be the one thing keeping him here, and he’s finally decided to let it go.”
You pressed your lips together in acknowledgement. “He was angry when he first showed up to me. He’s just… grown calmer with it.”
Marco made a humming sound but didn’t acknowledge the subject any further. “At current, that injury is healing well. He can breathe enough. Once you’re ready, you can try the full ritual as soon as possible.”
The deadline slammed into you unexpectedly. The tether reappeared like a chain around your chest. It tightened without warning and from down the hall, you felt Ace stumble a step before you let it go. That was strange. You turned your head toward the room, curious. You could tighten the tether?
“As soon as possible,” you mused.
“I’d rather get the anticipation part over with,” Marco said honestly.
“Me too,” you admitted. “With some of the fading that’s happening, I’m going to go and see what the hold up is. Then whether I have it or not, we go and get this over with.”
You were tired. Not just physically but mentally too. The worry wasn’t worth it anymore…
“I can take you there.” You turned to find Sabo standing at the doorway, his smile apologetic. “Everything okay?”
“Sorry,” you said. “Did I drag Ace?”
He chuckled. “Apparently. Didn’t know you could do that.”
Ace was distinctly unimpressed when he stepped past Sabo and you smiled apologetically. “I didn’t know I could either.”
His slight pout looked upset enough that you almost felt bad before you realised he was absolutely doing that on purpose. “If you wanted me to come talk to you, you could have said,” he teased.
“Mm, it was an accident,” you teased. “But I’m sorry. Also, I’m just going to go and collect a box or yell, nothing that important.”
Sabo shrugged loosely. “That box contains what you need to bring my brother back to life. Sounds important enough. Then if you get it today…”
“We can go tomorrow.”
You said it with enough conviction that the expression Ace had clearly meant to guilt you with disappeared in a heartbeat, replaced with something almost nervous. “Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” you said. “I don’t want to wait any longer. Today the tether feels lighter but what happens next? It’s not worth the wait. I have enough that I should be able to get everything done.”
You didn’t know what to make of the expression on Ace’s face. “Are you not too tired for that?”
“I have enough energy,” you said. “Or I’ll find enough.”
He didn’t seem wholly convinced.
To be honest, you weren’t very convinced either.
The journey passed quickly. Probably due to you half falling asleep on the boat ride there which Ace was entirely too smug about. As though he wouldn’t have done the same thing if he hadn’t been watching out the window.
Sabo walked several paces ahead, seeming as though you’d never met him before while you followed. Without the festival and the glowing lantern lights, this island felt far less welcoming than it once had. Or maybe that was the uncertainty coiling in your stomach about what you had agreed to.
Maybe you should have given yourself an extra day.
But the more you thought about the grey you kept glimpsing in Ace, the more certain you became that you couldn’t wait.
“Are you sure about tomorrow?” he asked eventually.
“Well, we’ll leave tomorrow,” you said. “Marco thinks the wound will be able to heal better when you’re through properly anyway.”
“Yeah.”
“And you trust him.”
Ace rubbed the back of his neck and stepped closer behind you when a man nearly passed through him. “I mean yes but that doesn’t make it any less weird to think about. Are you going to be okay? You’ve been dragging me through constantly.”
“I’ll be fine,” you said. “We’re not going to teleport there. I’ll have time to rest on the way and besides, the point is to use whatever I have.”
The fear tightened beneath your ribs regardless. You had no guarantee that this would work. No assurance aside from your own determination. But you couldn’t drag it on for much longer. You feared your heart may actually stop.
“You don’t look very happy about it.”
You smiled at him. “I’m scared it won’t work. Terrified. Because if it doesn’t…”
“You die?”
“I could,” you said. “But that’s not the part I’m worried about.”
You reached for his hand without thinking, slipped your fingers between his and reassured yourself with the familiar heat of his palm. Ace looked down at your joined hands and then back at you.
“You’ve been acting strange since earlier,” he noted.
“Nerves.”
“After talking with Marco?”
“I was talking about you,” you said. “And how we would both really like to get you here already so we can stop worrying so much.”
You stepped around a broken segment in the pavement and reached for the tether. It was still there, especially when you were holding onto him like this, but it still felt weak. You tightened your hold on his hand instead.
“You’re acting like I’m going to disappear,” he said.
“Not entirely sure you aren’t.”
“I’ll try my hardest not to.”
Sabo glanced over his shoulder toward you and nodded with his head just once before he continued on. You’d asked him to walk you there but let you collect your things in private and, as much as you hated doing it, you let go of Ace before you walked down the alley.
The woman looked up when you entered and sighed. “It’s not ready yet.”
“I don’t care. I paid for it. I need it now.”
“If you take it before the courier arrives with everything, then that’s everything you’re getting. And the price doesn’t change.”
“Fine,” you said.
She reached beneath the counter and dragged out a smooth wooden box. It scraped over the wood before she shoved it toward you. The weight settled too lightly into your hands. You knew before lifting the lid that something important was missing. You hadn’t even ordered anything, just sent collectors.
It should not have taken this long for them to get back to your home island but sure enough, when you walked back into the alley and flipped the lid open, you found only chalks and candles.
And a note taped to the top.
Original request seized by Marines before retrieval. Waiting on alternative or reobtaining of the original item.
You plucked the note off and stared at it blankly for a second. Seized by the Marines. What the hell did they mean…
Ace leaned over your shoulder. “What were they trying to get you?”
You tossed the box aside. It struck the alley wall and burst against the stones, chalk snapping into white fragments while candles rolled through the gutter. The crack echoed between the buildings, too sharp for a collection of useless things. Those had been in the same cabinet. There was no way they had retrieved everything from the same cabinet except the one item that mattered.
“The remnants of my devil fruit,” you said. “It’s worthless to get the power but you use it for this. But there was no way they should have gotten their hands on it. It was locked up in my house!”
“Like, the place where I met you?”
You pinched the bridge of your nose. “It was in the living room if you remember where you first arrived.”
“Why didn’t you take it with when we left?”
“Because I didn’t exactly plan on falling in love with you when we left,” you muttered.
It wasn’t so much about how they had done it, considering your lack of security, but why… and how the couriers knew it was the Marines.
For a second you thought back to Akainu and the flames. Surely that hadn’t been the trigger. There was no way he was smart enough to have made the connection that quickly. You hadn’t even been suspicious.
Which meant you were still down the biggest component and unwilling to put it off any longer.
“After I first bought my fruit, I was warned that it was tracked,” you said. “But fine, then we just do without.”
The decision came too quickly to feel like one. You were too tired to tell whether it was confidence or panic, and you no longer cared enough to separate them.
Ace stared at you blankly, opened his mouth once and then closed it. Heat flickered briefly over his shoulders before vanishing, and when he looked away, the tips of his ears had gone red.
“That’s a bad idea,” he said.
“I’m not willing to wait longer. Tomorrow, we go. It’s not worth it, especially if they’re already suspicious.”
“No, not the ritual,” he said. “I mean, that too but the other thing.”
“What other thing?” you asked.
He stared at you for far too long before looking away. Grey skimmed the brown of his eyes where the light caught them, thin as ash over embers. The alley seemed to narrow around you. The flicker was brief, but it was enough to remind you why waiting was no longer an option.
“It’s only going to get worse if it works,” he said.
“It’s fine,” you said. “They won’t know what I need and even if they did, it’s not like they can carry an entire island away from me. Besides, how are they going to prove I’ve done anything?”
“They don’t need proof. Me being alive will be the proof.”
You shrugged. “Plenty of ways that could happen.”
“Are there?”
“I don’t know,” you said. “But to be honest, the Marines are the last problem on my mind right now. I’ve already proven I can bring you back without it and I’m not going to sit on that ship worrying about this.”
Ace’s jaw tightened. “It’s way more dangerous.”
“Yes.”
“And it’s not worth it.”
You stared at him as though he’d lost his mind. Which, you weren’t entirely certain he hadn’t done if he really thought that you had gone through all of this for something that wasn’t worth it.
“I’ve sailed across half the sea,” you said. “I’ve broken every rule that I’ve ever set for myself, broken my bones willingly, and gotten myself tied up with a group who the government are less than fond of.”
He looked away for a second, jaw tight. “I only asked you to do one of those things.”
“I know. Doesn’t change the fact that I did.”
“You can change your mind. It’s not like I’d hold it against you considering… well, you know. Marco and Sabo will understand. It’d make your life easier.”
“I don’t want it to be.”
Guilt flashed through his expression. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to pay you back for any of this.”
“Fine,” you said. “Then I get to ask you for one thing in exchange. For everything I’ve done getting you here, I’ll ask for something.”
Ace was silent for far too long before he nodded. “Yeah?”
How did he not realise the request? But even as you stared at him, you saw a flicker of grey in his eyes and panic took root before sense did. You stepped closer, hand sliding around the back of his neck to pull him down into a kiss.
He met you halfway, heat already rolling off his skin the second your hands found his shoulders. His mouth tasted like smoke against your own. The intensity drew a small sound from you; something lost as you pressed closer.
You kissed him until you were going dizzy, aware he didn’t need to breathe and more than happy to forget your own. There was something far too addictive about the brush of his tongue and the press of his lips.
When you broke away, it was only because your lungs couldn’t take it anymore. And even then, you returned to him for a few moments more before you spoke.
“You cannot not know what I want,” you said.
“I don’t think you should though,” he muttered.
“I want you to not move on,” you specified. “Not to disappear. If I have to wrap this tether around me and tie it so tightly that I cannot walk a step without you again, I will do that. But I want you to stay until I’ve brought you back.”
Ace’s pupils were full-blown. Not a single touch of grey lingered in the warm brown of his eyes. He swallowed thickly, gaze flicking to your lips.
For a second, he was quiet and then he breathed out.
“Okay,” he said.
“Okay,” you agreed with a nod and you kissed him hard, chasing the taste of his mouth again.
One Piece | Ace | 3.9k | Masterlist
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Ace was fine. For three days, he was perfectly fine.
He didn’t show any signs of fading or greying out. He woke up. He ate. He shoved his face into your neck almost constantly because he’d somehow found that was the most comfortable way to sleep (for who was debatable). He even lit a candle when you sent him dinner.
And yet, even when you were just reading, you found yourself constantly looking down at him and watching him far too closely.
“What’s wrong?” Ace asked, voice muffled against your shoulder. “You’ve looked at me like four times in the last five minutes.”
“Just wondering if you’re asleep,” you said. You leaned your cheek against the side of his head and breathed out, trying to make that seem like all you wanted to do. “I have some stuff to do today so I can’t be trapped here for too long.”
“Are we doing another transfer?” he asked.
You considered it. It was probably a good idea. Time was slipping away and you hadn’t taken anything from him since the broken ribs. They only ached when you thought about them now, a deep remembered pressure beneath your skin that vanished the second you became distracted.
“Maybe,” you said. “I can talk to Marco about it. I don’t know what else is safe… otherwise, I suppose we can always –”
“I have a sore cheek,” he offered. “Bit it. It’s been annoying me when I eat.”
You gave him a teasing look. “You know I mean serious injuries.”
“Mm, I know what you meant. I think this is a serious enough injury if it’s going to make it impossible for me to eat again.”
You laughed, despite yourself. “Why do you ask if you’re not going to let me help?”
He moved his head so his chin rested against your chest, forcing you to look down to meet his eyes. “Kinda just wanted to talk to you. We haven’t spoken much.”
The hand you’d been using to gently tickle his back stilled. You lowered your book to the side. Hadn’t you? You supposed you had been quite caught up watching him over the past few days – so much so that you might have forgotten to do anything else.
“I guess not,” you said. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I didn’t mean you have to.”
“I want to,” you reassured firmly. “I’ve just been worried about… well, a lot of things. But it’s not because I don’t want to talk.”
His brows creased in sympathy. “Sorry. I wish I could help.”
You nudged his head up so you could see him better. He flopped onto your pillow; body pressed firmly against your side even when he wasn’t fully lounging over you.
“Don’t apologise,” you said. “You’re doing everything you need to. You’re healing your injuries to make things easier. I’m just appreciating you being here. Once you’re back, I’ll relax a whole lot more and we’ll go get dinner or something.”
“That’s not really a worthy thank you for bringing me back to life,” he scoffed.
“It’ll be enough for me.”
“I was worried it was the ribs,” he admitted. “Thought maybe they grossed you out or something.”
You moved slightly back and turned so you could look toward the injury in his torso, confused what he could mean. They were strange looking, that was true, but they were more relieving than anything else. They were a sign he was slowly growing stronger.
“I actually like them,” you said. “I find you very attractive when all your internal parts are functioning and appropriately bloody.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Ugh, don’t say it like that.”
“Although, I have noticed something now and I’m wondering about it… how are you still eating when there’s no way for the food to get to your stomach?”
Ace shrugged but he had a wide smile on his face now. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s why I’m always hungry.”
“From what I’ve heard, the two aren’t connected.”
He huffed. “I kind of wish I could see what it looked like to you. It’s a little difficult to see without any working mirrors.”
“I can try to describe it?” you offered. “But somehow, I don’t think that’s going to help much.”
“Could you try?”
He was definitely teasing but you shuffled yourself away so you could make a show of examining the injury. You hummed purposefully and tilted your head left and right.
“It looks like a hole.”
“Really?”
“A hole with some ribs in it and quite a few missing things I could steal.”
“Hey!”
You grabbed at his side playfully and he immediately caught your wrist before you could make contact. You batted your eyelashes up innocently at him and he laughed, tugging you forward as though to pull you back against him. Instead of resisting, you planted your free hand on the mattress and pushed back.
Ace made a startled sound as his back hit the bed with your momentum.
You swung one knee carefully over his thighs, avoiding the open injury where it punctured through his torso. You pulled your hand free and caught his wrist, holding it above his head. His other arm remained trapped awkwardly at his side.
“There,” you said. “Much better.” You ran your fingers down back down toward his side. “Now I can take whatever I want.”
He stared at you with exaggerated disbelief. “You attacked an injured man?”
“A temporarily dead man actually,” you corrected, squeezing his side in a way that made him jolt slightly.
Oh?
You smiled down at him, pleased with the victory and did it again, drawing a small laugh from him. His hair spread messily beneath his head, freckles bunched together in response to the tickling.
“You look very comfortable,” he said.
“I am.”
He lifted his head toward you and you laughed softly, leaning down toward the warmth of his mouth as he was so clearly asking.
He twisted beneath you. His trapped arm slipped free and circled your waist before you could tighten your hold. The mattress dipped sharply beneath your knees and the room rolled with it; a second later, your back hit the bed with a small puff of air. Ace caught your wrist above your head, his palm warm and firm around it as he grinned down at you.
You pushed playfully at his chest. “That was cheating.”
“Should have expected it from a pirate.”
“I thought you were going to kiss me.”
“I am.”
He leaned down and planted an unnecessarily loud kiss against your cheek. Then your forehead. Then your other cheek. You struggled not to laugh as he began to scatter quick kisses across every part of your face he could reach. You squirmed beneath him, giggles slipping free momentarily as he continued.
“This is revenge,” he told you between the kisses.
“I barely tickled you!”
“It was enough.”
You turned your face into the pillow in an attempt to escape. Ace immediately made a pleased sound and began to press kisses down your neck instead, littering them over your shoulder and your collarbone despite your best attempts to nudge him away.
He found a particularly ticklish spot and kissed it again, slower this time and you finally managed to catch his jaw with your free hand, holding him in place. His grin softened around the edges and his next attempted kiss landed crookedly.
“You owe me a proper one at least,” you said through fast breaths.
“I’ll think about it.”
You pulled him down properly. His smile remained against your mouth for a few seconds, the kiss clumsy and warm. But then he let go of your wrist, playfulness melting away into something gentler.
Your fingers moved into his hair, holding him close while his thumb brushed against your side. He was careful with his weight, balanced above you without letting the damaged part of his chest press against yours but the heat still radiated over your body.
When he finally moved away, he remained close enough that his nose brushed yours.
“I won,” he hummed.
“Won what?” you laughed.
He shrugged without an answer and fell back to your side, immediately curling back against your body. His arm fell across your chest and his face buried comfortably into the space beneath your jaw as though personal space was a suggestion.
“We still have somewhere to be today,” you mentioned.
“How long?”
“An hour.”
“Good enough for a nap.”
You ran your fingers through his hair and sighed, reaching for your book. You had a feeling this wasn’t going to stop when he was alive. Yet, you found you didn’t really mind the idea of it.
Ace was very tired that day. The library was warm and close, sunlight lying in pale bars across the carpet while dust drifted lazily between the shelves. Instead of even trying to discuss the next steps after Akainu, he dropped his head into your lap the moment you sat down, sprawling onto his back with his hair tickling your legs.
“Are you sure you don’t want a chair?” Robin asked from her seat at the table. “It might make discussions easier.”
“Not for somebody else,” you mentioned. “Who wants to sleep.”
“Oh, I see,” she said. “Well, I suppose there’s nothing else to it.”
She sat down beside you and you laughed. There was a perfectly good table and chairs.
Marco sighed and stood up, moving to sit beside you too with a wince. “You’re enabling a bad habit by letting him sleep on you all the time, yoi. He’s going to start expecting it whenever he feels tired.”
But despite the faint reprimand, his smile remained genuine.
“Start?” you said. “That’s not his default?”
“Only when you allow it to be.”
Somebody caught your wrist.
You glanced down with the smile still on your face, expecting to find Ace’s fingers curled there.
Both of his hands lay loose at his sides.
Nothing touched you, and yet the grip tightened and wrenched your arm forward hard enough for your palm to strike his forehead. Cold bit through your skin. It was not the ordinary chill of a room or a breeze but something deep and lifeless, cold enough to ache in the bones of your hand.
The unseen grip stopped mattering. You pressed your palm to his cheek and found the same terrible cold there.
“Ace?”
You ran your fingers through his hair, hoping desperately to stir him from his sleep. When it didn’t work the first time, you tried it again. Twice. He remained unmoving, eyes resting firmly closed.
“Hey, Ace?”
Had his head always been this heavy?
You pushed at his shoulders and found them unyielding. When you slid both hands beneath his skull and tried to lift him, the full weight of him dragged against your arms, dense and wrong. His head pressed so heavily into your thighs that your legs had begun to ache beneath it.
“What’s wrong?” Robin asked.
“He’s not moving,” you said. “Ace. Ace, come on. Please wake up.”
“What do you mean not moving, yoi?” Marco asked. Blue flames came to his hands seemingly on instinct, even with nothing to heal.
“He fell asleep,” you said. “But now he’s cold and he’s not responding. Ace! Baby, I really need you to open your eyes.”
You pulled your legs back and his head thumped too heavily on the ground. He didn’t even stir. You moved past Robin, swinging to his side instead to grab his upper arms and try shaking him.
“Has this happened before?” Marco asked.
“Once,” you said. “In the middle of the night. I woke up and he was on fire and… Ace, come on! Please. He woke up the first time. I grabbed his arms like this and he came back. But he was on fire then.”
For just a second, the hand you had on his arm started to slip through.
Your fingers sank through his body before it suddenly reformed and went back to normal. Your heart just about stopped. No. No. No. No. He wasn’t slipping away from you. That was not something that was happening.
The hand on your wrist tightened and you looked to your side for a second, finding nothing there.
“What?” you hissed through your teeth. “I’m trying.”
You reached up and brushed the hair from his face, tapping his cheek. He had to wake up. You were not about to let him fade away.
“Please,” you said. “Ace. You can sleep more later. Just wake up now.”
Marco clearly didn’t like being useless. You could see his fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides, the blue flames creeping brighter as he looked between your hands. “Do you know what caused it the first time?”
“No,” you said desperately. “He’s been fine. It’s been days and… this is the longest it’s happened for.”
“Is he showing any responsiveness? Eyelid fluttering?”
“Nothing,” you said. “He’s not moving at all and he’s cold.”
“Is his body resisting when you try to move him?”
“I don’t know.”
How would you possibly know that? Maybe there was an injury causing it? You looked toward the hole in his chest. Was there something worse? If you could find what was causing it then you just had to take it for him to wake up.
Robin had taken your journal. You could hear the rapid rustle of paper but you couldn’t bring yourself to take your eyes off him. Maybe food? Food always woke him up.
“Ace,” you said, his name a wounded plea. “Ace.”
You were probably strong enough to take the chest injury, right? Marco could heal it. He was right there. If you grabbed the whole thing… you reached without thinking and pulled.
Warmth blossomed beneath your fingers, hot enough to burn.
Then Ace gasped.
The sound came out wet and strangled, blood catching somewhere inside it.
Robin jerked hard enough for the journal to tumble from her lap and Marco’s flames flared bright across the room.
Ace’s eyes flew open. He gave a desperate, retching gasp for air; as though he was choking on the sound itself. His mouth worked around another desperate breath that would not come, fingers clawing at empty air.
Then his chest hitched. He bolted upright, both hands flying to his throat as one breath chased another too quickly as he tipped toward hyperventilation. You hovered, uncertain if you could touch him.
“What the hell?” he coughed.
Relief hit like a cannon blast, rattling through your ribs and leaving your limbs weak. You threw yourself at him and he caught you on instinct, arms locking around your sides.
Your knee landed in something warm and wet.
You flinched and looked down. Blood had soaked into the carpet where he had been lying, bright red between the fibres and spreading slowly beneath your leg. You froze. When you lifted one hand from his shoulder, blood shone wetly across your palm.
“That hurt,” Ace muttered. “What happened?”
He raised a hand past you and wiped at his mouth. You leaned back just in time to see him looking at the bright red smear on his skin in confusion. The corners of his mouth stained faintly.
“Where did that come from?” he muttered.
You looked toward Marco whose flames flickered uselessly at his arms. He stared at the blood on the ground, his face paler than you thought was possible for anybody. “Was…” he swallowed roughly around nothing. “Did you just… was that actually Ace?”
“Yes,” Robin said behind you, her voice surprisingly shaking. “I saw him too.”
Ace’s attention snapped toward Marco. For a second, he simply stared at him, taking in the pallor of his face and the blue flames trembling uselessly around his hands. Something shifted in Ace’s expression, the confusion softening into a startled, fragile sort of hope.
“Did I miss something?”
He was looking to you for an answer, but your throat had closed around every word. Blood was pooling on the carpet. Real blood, thick with the smell of iron until it coated the back of your tongue. He had sounded as though he was choking on actual air. None of it should have been possible.
He touched your cheek and you startled, drawing in a quick, sharp breath at the familiar warmth smoothing against your skin.
“Hey. Are you okay?”
“I…”
It was the best you could do. He followed your gaze and startled at the blood on the floor, eyes flicking to your leg in momentary panic before he looked to Marco.
“Are you hurt?”
“No,” you said softly. “You were hurt.”
“What?”
Robin cleared her throat and her voice sounded as though it was coming to you through a wall. “Perhaps all the items you gather make it easier to focus, but the ability itself lies inside the fruit. Most devil fruit don’t require external assistance, after all.”
You glanced down at your leg and warily dragged a single finger through the blood. It smudged into your skin.
“He was actually here.”
Ace turned his head like an owl, looking at each of you before he reached around his back. His palm came away bright red and he stared at it blankly. “I can bleed?”
“You were slipping,” you said to him. “Fading away and I was trying to grab onto you and I think… I think I tried to pull too much because for a second, you were right in front of us. Like breathing.”
“Fading?” he repeated.
You reached out and took his upper arm in your hand, thumb brushing over his tattoo slowly as you tried to push through and found yourself happy there was no give.
“You were asleep and when I tried to touch you, I passed through just a little. I was panicking really badly.”
He frowned. “What? I wasn’t asleep… I don’t think so anyway. I knew where I was but everything was kind of quiet. I just thought everybody wasn’t talking.”
“We’re certainly going to need to replace the carpet, regardless,” Robin said. “But this is interesting, don’t you think? If you were trying to just bring him back a little and you broke the boundary for a few seconds… well, it’s good to know.”
“I can transfer injuries and items,” you said. “Not people.”
“Clearly you can do both,” Marco said and his voice was sharp.
You settled back onto the carpet, one hand still clamped around Ace’s arm. You forced yourself to notice how solid he felt beneath your fingers and how warm his skin was even without flames curling over it. Anything was easier than remembering the terrible weight of his head in your lap or the moment your hand had begun to pass through him.
Were you running out of time? There was probably a limit to how long you could have a spirit but in all the past accounts, the danger should have been to you.
And you… you looked down at your arm, untouched.
Something had knocked you into Ace’s head to feel that he was slipping away. You ran a hand over your forearm but found nothing.
Ace’s hand fell over yours and you glanced up at him. Concern shone deeply in his eyes and you let out a shaking breath. He was still here. Even if he had been fading, you’d managed to bring him back for now. Anxiety scratched at your brain as you watched him.
“I’m alright,” he said and you weren’t entirely sure you could believe him. “But did you seriously do that? It felt like I was choking.”
You swallowed. “I pulled you through. Fully.”
“His injuries aren’t healed enough,” Marco said. “He couldn’t breathe.”
“And you bled,” you said.
Ace stared at the blood coating his palm. His smile arrived slowly, uncertain around the edges. “They really saw me?”
“Yes,” you said.
His eyes flicked toward Marco. “That’s… kind of amazing.” He swallowed and looked back at you. “Still don’t know how I feel about you going through me.”
You shook your head. “It was a one-time thing,” you said, as firmly as you could. “Just proof that we can’t keep waiting. Then it’ll be fine.”
“What are you still waiting on?” Robin asked. “Perhaps we can source the supplies elsewhere.”
If you could pull him through here with desperation alone, you didn’t know if you even needed more than one conduit. Maybe even just the location would be enough? Maybe not even that. You could probably do it. Sure, the risk would be higher but it was possible.
“If I did it once without, maybe I can do it again,” you suggested.
“Do you know what you did?” Marco asked.
“I know what it felt like,” you said. “I think I could find it again.”
You remembered the snag. The wrong thing you grabbed. And though you could feel exhaustion seeping into your bones, you felt certain you should be able to do that again. Maybe. Most likely.
Ace rubbed absently at the edges of the wound and gave you a small smile. It was too gentle, too settled, and something in your chest pulled tight at the sight of it. He looped an arm around your shoulders and dragged you into a firm hug, squeezing you against him while the flames along his skin guttered and caught again. You breathed out and let yourself relax into the heat.
“It’ll be okay,” he said. “Either way.”
“What?”
“I don’t want to disappear,” he said quickly. “I’m not saying that. I just… I saw the grave. I know people came back. I know they cared. That’s more than I thought I’d get.”
“Ace…”
“So don’t look like everything’s already over. I’m not scared.”
You didn’t have words to respond to him with because the problem was creeping into your throat as the realisation settled. Was he moving on? Unknowingly, sure, but he was coming to peace with the idea of being dead.
Marco drew a slow breath and when he spoke again, his voice had taken on the clipped steadiness of a doctor faced with an injury he could treat.
“Can you check the wound?” he asked. “Tell me if it looks smaller than you remember? If he was alive, even if for a second, his fruit may have been trying to fix it.”
You focused on his tone. On his logic because if you let yourself think about what Ace said for too long, you worried you might panic again.
You didn’t meet Ace’s eyes. You shifted behind him instead, using the broken lines of his tattoo to judge the wound. The scorched edges no longer cut as deeply through the symbol. The hole had drawn inward, leaving a little more of the tattoo intact than there had been before.
“It’s smaller,” you said.
“Really?” Ace asked, sounding far too excited for a man who just told you he wanted to move on. Or that he was okay with it.
“Not again today,” Marco said. Something fierce had settled over his face. “But if we can determine how long he was alive and control the next crossing, his fruit and mine may be able to repair the wound in stages.”
“So we do it again?” you asked.
“After we plan it, yoi. We test the shortest possible interval. We don’t gamble.”
You nodded and then threw your arms around Ace, buried your face into his shoulders and squeezed him hard enough to get a small cough from him.
It felt wrong for you to be upset that he had come to peace with his death.
It felt even worse that you were upset with yourself for helping him get there.
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