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Ace stared, his head tilted passed the corner he was hiding behind. He stared.
It has been a week since Ace finally agreed to become Whitebeard’s son and took his mark. Apprehension was taking over.
His mark was no longer sore, taking away the feeling of belonging. Despite the stares of pride he still got for it, it was almost like the mark wasn’t there. The crew members treated him like family; Marco and Thatch treated him like a little brother and were always available. The old man, who Ace still hasn’t called Pops, was the same. Always available, always there. It was almost like he was never busy, especially when he was needed.
Right now, it was near midnight, when everyone should be seeing. Ace was having a fit of insomnia and worry. He left his room, a blanket over his shoulders, to walk around the deck to try and tire himself when he came to the old man’s throne. Whitebeard was seated in it, a choko of sake by his hand, talking with the two men Ace considered his friends, Marco and Thatch. Ace has been staring at them for a couple of minutes now.
“Will you be joining us son?”
Ace jumped and instantly hid, only to flinch once and roll his eyes at himself. Why did he do that?
“You alright Ace yoi?” Marco asked in worry.
Ace revealed himself with a shaky smile. “Yea, I’m okay,” he assured, walking to them.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Whitebeard asked knowingly.
“Just a weird night,” Ace explained.
“Hey,” Thatch said, “You’ve made it a week. The rest of your time here should be easy.”
“Yea,” Ace replied quietly.
Whitebeard peered down at him, before he leaned back slightly, bringing his knees together. He patted his lap.
“Best seat on the ship,” Whitebeard said.
Ace stared. “Old man?” he asked.
“Gurarara. You wouldn’t be my first child to have that moment of clarity,” Whitebeard said.
“Clarity?”
Thatch grinned. “The realization that Papa really gave you a family,” he beamed.
Ace stared for a moment longer before slowly, he edged forward. Whitebeard smiled lovingly as his youngest son leaped onto his lap, taking his blanket. Ace took a deep breath, taking in the situation, before he finally leaning back, lying across Whitebeard’s thighs.
“Oyaji’s the best pillow on this ship yoi,” Marco smirked as Whitebeard laid the blanket over Ace.
Ace snuggled in, pulling the blanket in tighter. “Papa, and Oyaji,” he repeated thoughtfully.
“Hm?” Whitebeard replied.
“They all call you different things,” Ace said, “Hardly anyone calls you by the same thing. Doesn’t that get confusing? I mean- why don’t they call you the same thing?”
Whitebeard rested his chin on his fist. “I have children from all over the world, from every sea and island,” he said, “Everyone is raised to call their father a certain way, and I answer to them all. In the end, though, it doesn’t matter, because they all mean the same thing.”
The three sons looked over curiously. “What yoi?” Marco asked.
Whitebeard beamed. “I love you,” he said.
Thatch and Marco flushed. “Papa/Oyaji!” they barked.
Ace stared while Whitebeard laughed. “And that’s what it means when I call them my sons and daughters,” he continued, ruffling Marco’s hair with his finger.
Thatch huffed, face still red as he looked away. “Whatever,” he grumbled but smiled when his back was patted.
Whitebeard looked down at Ace, who was still stared at the man he had pledged his loyalty and life too.
“The world already hates me,” Ace said quietly, “But something will happen one day, I don't know when, and they’ll hate me even more. The marines would do anything to see me on that execution block.”
The three men looked at him in confusion. “What did you do yoi?” Marco asked.
“Nothing,” Ace replied, looking into his father’s eyes. “But it won’t matter once the government finds out.”
Whitebeard gazed at his son. “You’re my son Ace, and these are your brothers,” he gestured to the whole ship, “This is your family. Every man and women on this ship, every ally at sea, they would stand behind you Ace. Your burdens become our burdens, and if the government wants to execute you, then they’ll have to execute us first to get to you. That’s what a family does, son.”
Ace heard that all, but his ears honed in on the word ‘son’ and he remembered what the old man said it meant.
Ace freed an arm from his cocoon and Whitebeard offered his hand when beckoned. Ace marveled at the large hand, wrinkled and warm, with the occasional scar. It was so big, and could easily crush Ace’s neck or chest, and yet Ace wasn’t afraid. Instead, Ace felt safe in the arms and lap of the world’s strongest man.
“Pops,” Ace whispered, finally understanding the meaning of using that word and gazing into his palm. Finally, he put Whitebeard’s hand on his belly.
Ace looked at his father innocently, who was smiling warmly. “Rub my belly?” he begged. “It helps me sleep.”
“Guararara,” Whitebeard chuckled. “Of course son.”
Ace purred as his belly was rubbed with gentle fingers, and he turned his head towards his father, closing his eyes. Marco and Thatch silently said goodnight to their father and brother, Marco giving a customary scolding for sleeping on the deck, before they left. Whitebeard hummed a pirate shanty under his breath as he petted his son’s belly.
Ace smiled, peeking an eye open. “Goodnight Pops,” he said quietly.
“Goodnight son.”