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Ace woke to the sound of beeping medical equipment.
He wasn’t sick, was he? He didn’t remember being sick.
Surely Whitebeard hadn’t beaten him so badly that he’d need more than bandaging up. Ace knew Whitebeard pulled his punches. If he couldn’t even stand up to a fraction of the man’s power, what was all his effort up until now for?
He heard soft voices, as familiar as his own. Luffy and Sabo, arguing over something dumb again, while Dandan grumbled in the background.
He didn’t know how he’d gotten back to the jungle from the Moby Dick, but it was nice to be home.
Except…that wasn’t right, was it? He really couldn’t be listening to Sabo, because Sabo was dead.
He opened his eyes to see the familiar wooden paneling of the Moby Dick’s ceilings. But he could still hear Sabo and Luffy.
Sabo was calling for him, now, not frantic or angry like he had been when Ace last saw him, just urgent. He sounded like he’d found something cool, or needed Ace’s advice about Luffy again.
Ace would’ve given anything to actually hear him again, but he knew better than to trust his ears. They were in the habit of lying to him, most often when he was half-asleep.
Sabo had called it “auditory hallucinations” but Ace preferred to say he heard things, mostly because it sounded less like an incurable disease and more like an inconvenience. Usually, that’s all it was, an inconvenience. But every once in a while it was an actual problem, and Ace had a bad feeling about today. Sure enough, when he tried to get up, he couldn’t move a muscle.
He’d practically lost his mind the first time this had happened, back in the jungle, and it still made him antsy as hell. Not being able to move was never good news for a pirate, and now that Ace had experienced seastone cuffs, his mind called up the parallels without his say-so. If anything, this was worse--seastone made him feel lethargic and weak, but these bouts of paralysis were like being encased in cement, unable to even twitch.
Luffy had liked to say that pirates were the freest people alive. Ace had been chasing that freedom all his life, trying desperately to wriggle out from under the weight of an unwanted legacy, and yet he never felt as trapped as he did when his body disobeyed him.
He could see Nurse Tate leaning over him, writing something on a clipboard, and then glancing to the side. He could even hear her, faintly, over the sound of Sabo and Luffy’s chatter. But he couldn’t respond. He knew from experience that trying to speak when he was like this was pointless--at best, he’d manage a few strained, incomprehensible syllables.
Whitebeard was talking again, but Ace could only kind of make it out. He heard the word “seizure,” though, which sounded pretty bad. He hoped whoever they were talking about was okay.
Luffy and Sabo’s voices were fading, and as much as he missed Sabo, that was also a good sign that he’d be able to move soon enough.
He tried harder to focus on the conversation, but only caught snatches. Something about a hospital, and a bunch of medical words he didn’t know, like “anemia” and “hypoglycemia.”
The sensation of being locked in place eased, and Ace wriggled on instinct. It still felt like he was pushing through quicksand, but he could do it, and that was enough.
As if prompted by the movement, the room filled with shouting, loud enough to drown out the fading sound of Ace’s siblings.
“You’re awake!” Izou was shouting, even as Thatch’s exclamation of “He’s up!” nearly drowned him out.
“Shut up or get out!” Nurse Tate snapped, hitting someone with her clipboard. Ace tried to twist to see the unlucky victim, but his body wasn’t quite with the program, and he ended up just sorta twitching in her direction.
“Ace!” Whitebeard exclaimed. “Does your head--”
“I told you, you didn’t even hit him!” Thatch interrupted.
“Whuh?” Ace managed.
“Evidence of aphasia, presumed temporary,” Nurse Tate muttered. “Ace, can you tell me your full name?”
Ace tried to say “Fuck you,” which was his general response to such inquiries, but it came out closer to “Fuh you.”
Nurse Tate scowled, but Ace just glared. He was Ace, Portgas D. Ace if he had to give a surname, but that wasn’t any of this woman’s business.
“I really thought he was starting to like us,” Thatch said.
“No, I think this is just him being a contrary little shit,” Marco said. “Hey, we just want to know if you know who you are and where you are.”
Well, they had a weird way of asking. “I’m Ace, and I’m on the insufferable old man’s ship,” he snapped, and it wasn’t even that garbled this time.
“Speech is improving,” Tate noted. “And he’s not disoriented.”
“Ace, does your head hurt?” Marco asked.
“No?” Ace replied. “Why would it hurt?”
“I told you, his fist didn’t actually connect!” Thatch insisted at volume.
Ace tried to make sense of that statement for a few seconds before it clicked..
He’d passed out in the middle of attacking Whitebeard.
Ace wanted to be able to say that the reason that this had never happened before was that he knew his own body. He wanted to be able to say he knew his own limits, and could calculate exactly how far he could push himself without crossing a line.
In reality, though, it had just been dumb luck.
He should’ve known it was coming. Stress and anger made his sleep patterns worse, and seas knew he’d had enough of both aboard the Moby Dick. He hadn’t slept more than an hour at a time in like a week. Really, it was a miracle that it had taken this long for him to pass out.
He sort of got why the Whitebeards were freaking out so much now. He knew that it looked scary from the outside when he passed out; both Sabo and Luffy had mistaken him for dead a few times.
He’d been dealing with Whitebeard’s recruiting methods for long enough that he could admit the man’s sincerity; he really did want Ace--or at least the man he thought Ace was--to join him. Also, he wasn’t the type to kill when there was another option, or he would’ve sent Ace to Davy Jones several murder attempts ago.
Of course, if he knew who Ace’s father was, he’d feel differently. But given what he did know, he had no reason to want Ace dead and several to want him alive.
“I’m fine,” Ace said aloud. “This just happens.”
He tried to get up. His arms were…kind of cooperating, enough for him to at least pull himself to something that more resembled a seated position. He could see the room more clearly now; he really was in the infirmary. He had an IV in his arm--hopefully just saline, but he’d take it out as soon as he got some privacy, just in case. Right now, though, under the observation of Whitebeard and several of his lieutenants, Ace didn’t dare try it.
“What do you mean, it just happens?” Jozu asked.
“You pass out randomly?” Izou asked. “That seems…dangerous.”
“I did find him asleep in his food once at dinner, but I thought that was deliberate,” Thatch said.
“Yeah, it wasn’t,” Ace said. “Sabo said I have narcolepsy.”
“Who’s Sabo?” Jozu asked.
“Narcolepsy?” Whitebeard echoed. “I’ve never heard of that. Is it dangerous?”
Ace snorted. “Do you think I know?” He didn’t bother acknowledging the question about Sabo. The Whitebeards hadn’t earned that yet.
“It can be,” Nurse Tate said. “It won’t kill a person by itself, but if Ace were to fall asleep or collapse when he was under attack…”
“This is the first time anything like that happened,” Ace said. “It’s not that big a deal, really.”
“Not a big deal?” Jozu echoed. “We thought you died!”
“You did, maybe,” Thatch said.
“That’s happened before, too,” Ace said. “Used to scare people with it.”
“Anyone ever tell you that your sense of humor’s broken?” Izou asked.
“Hah, loads of times,” Ace said. “So what if it is?”
Nurse Tate hummed in disapproval, then turned to Whitebeard. “I’ll need to pick up medicine at the next port, then.”
“Medicine?” Ace asked. “I told you, I’m fine!”
“You’ll pass out less,” Nurse Tate said. “And maybe you’ll even sleep at night sometimes.”
Ace laughed. “Fat chance.”
He knew himself. He loved naps, but sleeping at night was impossible at best, and a one-way ticket to nightmares at worst.
“Will you at least try it?” she asked.
Ace shrugged. “Maybe, but you gotta tell me what’s in it. I’m not trying anything weird.”
She sighed. “You’re impossible, all of you.”
“I’ll handle it,” Marco volunteered. “I’m used to explaining stuff to these knuckleheads.”
“Hey, don’t lump me in with the rest of you weirdos,” Ace protested with a yawn.
“All right, that’s it, clear out,” Nurse Tate said. “Let the boy sleep in peace.”
“Not a boy,” Ace snapped.
“Yes, yes, of course,” Nurse Tate said.
The Whitebeards trailed out of the door like a pack of scolded children, but Whitebeard himself lingered.
“You gave us all a fright,” he said. “I thought I’d seriously injured you.”
“With the kinds of punches you were throwing?” Ace asked. “Not a chance.”
“Accidents happen, even to the strongest among us,” Whitebeard said.
Ace scowled. “Don’t look down on me, old man.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Whitebeard said, giving Ace one last searching look before closing the door behind him.
“I’m taking out the IV,” Ace told Nurse Tate.
“You really shouldn’t--” she started as he reached for the line. “Fine. But let me do it.”
Ace scowled as she removed the needle and fussed over the little pinprick left behind. He’d sure look tough today, walking around with a huge gauze pad over a tiny spot of blood.
Then again, this afternoon really had sort of wrecked his chances of looking tough in front of the Whitebeards ever again. On the bright side, maybe the old man would finally give up on making Ace one of his so-called “sons” now.
He fell into an uneasy sleep as he contemplated returning to the Spade Pirates and finally leaving the Whitebeards’ chaos behind.
Breakfast the next day was…weird. Thatch was waiting for him in the mess hall with an even larger plate of sausage than usual, while Jozu and Izou kept sneaking glances at him as he ate.
Marco was the only one being normal. If anything, he seemed a little annoyed.
“He’s not going to pass out again,” the man said, without looking up from his potatoes.
“Is that what you’re waiting for?” Ace asked around a mouthful of meat. He swallowed, then continued, “He’s right, it ain’t happening.”
“But that book you gave us--” Izou started. Jozu immediately shushed him.
“What book?” he asked. Izou shook his head and Jozu took an extra-large bite of his food, then gestured to his full mouth.
Exasperated, Ace turned to Marco. “What book?”
“I have a book on sleep disorders,” Marco said. “They said they were curious, so I let them look at it. Sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” Ace pressed.
“The book talks about narcolepsy like it makes you fall asleep at the least little thing,” Marco said, gesturing vaguely with his fork. “I think they’re worried that if they talk to you, you’ll pass out.”
“Are you serious?” Ace asked.
Izou’s cheeks turned pink, and Jozu leaned behind him as if to hide his massive body behind Izou’s considerably slighter form.
“You’re both morons, you know that?”
“But, it said that if you laugh too hard you could pass out!” Jozu said, still behind Izou.
Izou swatted at him and said, “I told you that probably wasn’t true!”
“Actually that did happen once,” Ace said.
Izou, Jozu, and Marco all stared.
Ace laughed. “It was years ago, and I really hadn’t been sleeping well. Tiger mating season, you know.”
“I really do not,” Marco said.
“They’re loud,” Ace said.
“Were you literally raised by wild animals?” Izou asked. “Because that would explain a lot about you.”
“Nah,” Ace said. “Bandits, mostly.” And one annoying freaking Marine Vice-Admiral, but no need to mention that part.
“Yeah, actually, that explains even more,” Marco said thoughtfully.
“So, are you guys letting me leave now?” Ace asked.
“Why would we do that?” Marco asked. “We told you, Whitebeard wants you to become his son.”
“Even now?” Ace asked.
Marco snorted, then gestured at the assembled pirates. “You’ve seen how weird the rest of the crew is. You really think falling asleep in weird places is that much of a problem?”
“Guess not,” Ace said.
“Sorry, kid, you’re stuck with us,” Marco said, wrapping an arm around Ace’s waist and pulling him into a hug.
Ace pulled away immediately, swatting at Marco’s shoulder. “No, I’m not. Why are you people being so nice to me? I’m still trying to kill your captain, remember?”
“Are you really?” Izou asked. “Because the last few attempts have seemed a bit…route.” He grinned. “Like perhaps you know you can’t succeed, but you don’t wish to actually admit it.”
Ace did know that he couldn’t win in a straight fight with Whitebeard. But that just meant he had to be sneaky. It certainly didn’t mean he was going to give up and join the old man’s crew!
Ace scowled at Izou as Marco laughed.
“Give him a little more time,” Jozu said. “He’ll come around.”
Ace was not going to do that.
But he could admit, to himself at least, that he’d miss these clowns after he finally managed to get off of their stupid ship.