Chapter Text
You burst up off the mattress in a dead panic, your mind screaming in a jumble of “NO NO NO NO NO THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING YOU CAN’T LEAVE THEM LIKE THAT YOU CAN’T—"
“Whoa, Froggie! You’re okay!”
Shanks catches you before you can fall out of bed. You stare at him with wide eyes and it’s only because you can see the tied-off sleeve where his arm isn’t that you can breathe at all. The sight of him still breaks your brain. All you can do is stare blankly as he gently leans you back against the pillows.
“…shanks?”
Your voice is shredded and even that single word feels like knives against your throat. What’s going on? Why are you—how are you—and Shanks wasn’t—
“It’s me. You’re okay, I promise, you’re safe here.”
What happened? What did he—
Your hand rises to your neck and there’s a piece of medical tape pressing a gauze pad down. Shanks takes your hand as soon as you start trying to pry up the tape, squeezing gently and then rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand in a soothing motion.
“Hey. He’s gone, okay? We—me, your dad, Big Mom, the three of us sent him packing. He’s not going to come back.”
“What…”
Holy fucking OW talking feels like ramming shards of glass down your throat.
“Here, drink this,” Shanks releases your hand to grab a cup sitting on the bedside table. Your first attempt to pick up the cup is embarrassing—your hands are shaking too badly and your arms ache with the effort to just lift them. Also your arms are wrapped so tightly in bandages that you look like a mummy. Shanks lets you give it your best shot but when it’s clear you can’t hold your grip, he gently takes the cup from you and holds it up to your lips so you can drink. The water is cool and feels like heaven on your ruined throat and you never want it to stop but you have to know so you swallow as best as you can and rasp out, “…what did he do?”
Shanks takes your hand again as gently as he can and you cling to the touch because you have no idea what’s going on and his grip is the only thing that feels real right now.
“Hongo checked you out as soon as you were on board, he said it was a sedative. Fast-acting, very potent, and not… not something he can neutralize. But it will all flush out on its own. He thinks it’ll be out of your system completely in a couple of weeks.”
You just stare at him. He doesn’t know what that injection was really supposed to do. You don’t know why you’re still here or why it didn’t work but suddenly you can’t give less of a shit about why the fuck a Holy Knight of all fucking people swooped in at the end of the fight to try and send you back where you came from. Because there’s much, much more important things.
“Where’s Ace?” your voice trembles because you can’t feel them anywhere, “Where’s my dad?!”
“Ace is on Trafalgar Law’s submarine.”
“They made it?”
“They made it out,” Shanks confirms solemnly.
“And my dad?!”
“Newgate is in surgery on the Moby,” Shanks answers. Your eyes widen in terror and Shanks hurries to add, “He’ll be alright. He got off pretty light, all things considered. Marco’s with him. I’m pretty sure that birdbrain is trying to fix forty years of liver damage while he’s at it.”
The little jab at the end is enough to jumpstart your lungs. Shanks wouldn’t be joking around unless he was positive he’s going to make it.
He’s alive. They’re both alive. And the Moby isn’t destroyed.
“What about Luffy?” you ask, because he’s your friend and he should be dead on his feet right now even without being injured in the war.
“He’s on Law’s submarine with Ace and that blond Revolutionary. I haven’t heard anything else, but I know he’s going to pull through.”
You nod. Of course he will. And Ace is still alive.
You try to push yourself up without using your broken arms and try to get your bearings. Shanks has to help you up. The War of the Best is over and Ace and your dad are both alive and you should be feeling relief but there’s something standing in the way. You’re not on the Moby. You can’t feel any of your family here.
“Shanks?” you ask, dread growing in the pit of your stomach, “Where are we?”
Shanks’ expression freezes and the dread explodes and your Haki shivers ominously.
“You’re on the Red Force.”
Why… why would you be on the Red Force? Your dad is alive, Ace is alive, so why would…
“Where are my brothers? Shanks, where are my brothers?!”
Marco. Thatch. Izou. Haruta. Vista. Fossa. Namur Jozu Blamenco AtmosCurielBlenheimKingdewRakuyoJiru, “Where are my brothers?!”
“All the commanders are fine!” Shanks promises, grabbing your elbow before the hand in your hair can pull any harder, “I won’t lie to you, there were some casualties, but it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as it could have been. You’re only here because…”
Shanks trails off.
“…Shanks?”
He sighs.
“Did you tell Big Mom that you’d go to Totto Land with her?”
Your spine goes stiff as a board. That’s all it takes for you to figure out what’s going on. Your family and Big Mom are fighting over you, and since your dad’s out of commission, you’ve been sent to a neutral third party until they can fight it out.
“Yes.”
Shanks’ jaw clenches but he doesn’t say anything. Then he exhales heavily and it’s one of the shakiest sounds you’ve ever heard him make.
“Frog, there’s… something you need to know.”
And he tells you everything. Or at least, he tells you about the end of the battle, everything you missed while you were half-dead from running out of Haki and waiting helplessly on the Moby. It’s not easy to hear, but it’s also… it’s not really a surprise either.
“My dad is alive?” you whisper.
“He is,” Shanks promises.
Big Mom is a dangerous pirate. That’s part of why you were so wary of going to her in the first place. But to be honest, you don’t care how close it was. The war is over and your dad and Ace and Sabo and Luffy, they’re all alive. And your dad tried to keep his word, he ordered the evacuation after you dealt with Blackbeard, he was trying to keep his promise before Big Mom pulled the rug out from under him. Maybe you should be mad but she tried to take you from him; there’s only one way your dad ever could have responded. How could you be mad at him for being who he is?
He’s alive. That’s all that matters.
“What was the deal you made?” Shanks asks quietly, “The exact terms.”
You swallow the lump in your throat.
“If she gave the Marines something else to worry about during the execution,” you tell him, “I’d spend a month with her in Totto Land.”
“…the execution?”
“Ace’s execution,” you correct. Even saying the words makes you feel sick, regardless of Ace being alive and safe. Shanks frowns and looks down at his crossed legs. He sighs heavily.
“Okay. Okay. I’m going to go call the Moby and tell them you’re awake. I’m sure they’ll be here soon to check on you. But Frog…” his voice gets uncharacteristically sober, “Until this gets figured out, you have to stay here with me, okay?”
You nod.
“Okay.”
Thatch pulls you into a hug the second he sees you. You close your eyes and squeeze back as hard as you can, breathing in deep to smell the faint traces of spice and smoke and hair gel that you’d been terrified you’d lost forever.
“Don’t ever scare us like that again!” he begs, “I’m too young to go gray!”
Marco doesn’t say anything. He just waits until Thatch is done squeezing the air out of your lungs, then he drops to his knees and pulls you into him so your ear is pressed to the left side of his chest where his steady heart beats, curling over you so his forehead is pressed to the top of your head with his arms circling your back. His hand is trembling. You look at him for one second, which is all you can stand of the sheer relief on his face. You both lost too many brothers in the battle. But right now, he looks like that because you’re still here.
You let him hold you for as long as he needs. There were so many times you almost died and at the end, you were terrified you were about to lose all of this forever.
“Listen to me, Lexa,” Marco tells you quietly enough that the shadows standing in the corner of the Red Force’s sick bay (no one major, just Charlotte Smoothie and Charlotte Katakuri watching your reunion with knives for eyes) can’t hear, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
It takes you a second to figure out what he’s talking about, then the shock hits you all at once. You pull back out of Marco’s grip and stare at him heavily.
“Big Mom kept her word! You can’t ask me to break mine.”
Marco’s face twitches, emotions flashing over his face too fast for you to see them all. But you’re pretty sure he looks impressed despite the anxiety at you handing yourself over to another Emperor. (Even only temporarily).
Something jingles as Katakuri uncrosses his arms.
“I’m relieved to hear you say that,” Big Mom’s strongest son tells you, “To enforce the agreement would be… unpleasant.”
“I’ll show you unpleasant,” Thatch mutters under his breath. You pull all the way out of Marco’s arms before he can protest and cross the room to stand in front of Katakuri. It’s not easy on unsteady legs but you dig your heels in and use your willpower to override your exhaustion. This is too important.
“Can you take me to Big Mom? I’m ready to talk to her.”
“Lexa—”
“Ali!”
“Frog—”
Everyone tries talking at once, but you stand strong and refuse to look away from Katakuri. His eyes bear down on you and it’s completely terrifying even though he’s clearly trying to make an effort to soften his gaze.
“We’ll take you to her.”
“We’re coming,” Thatch announces immediately. Smoothie opens her mouth but you beat her to it.
“No. It’s my deal. I want to talk to her alone.”
The phrase “larger than life” comes to mind for a lot of the characters you’ve met. But Charlotte Linlin absolutely blows all of them out of the water. She’s sitting on the deck of the Queen Mama Chanter in something that looks more like a throne than a chair, stuffing mountains of beautifully frosted cookies into her mouth by the handful. When she sees you, she stops eating completely.
That’s enough to make your heart stop, to say nothing of the way she beams at you, the terrifying smile on her face nothing less than ecstatic.
“Sweetheart!” she coos, wiping a hand before holding it out and gesturing at the seat across from her, “Come over here, come sit!”
You do, because you’re not insane enough to ruin her good mood before you’ve had a chance to try and soften her up. Beckman and Yasopp stay over by the railing, quietly observing the proceedings in their role as mediators. You’re glad it’s them and not Shanks; it makes it feel like this is all in good faith instead of the powder keg waiting to explode that it really is.
“Glad to see you up and about! That nasty brat was quite a piece of work, makes me wonder what else that red head has been hiding over the years! You look a bit pale, have a cookie!”
As soon as the words have left her mouth, chefs pop up out of the woodwork to offer you platters of the most decadent sweets you’ve ever seen. Even if the smell of sugar is overwhelming, the aroma is mouthwatering in a way you’ve never experienced in either of your lives. You can’t help but think of the first time you watched Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory as a little kid and the idea of an entire room made out of chocolate and candy blew your mind. That feeling is what this smells like.
You can’t even imagine how much more intense Totto Land will be.
It’s probably a bad idea, but you can’t help yourself. You take a cookie and the first bite makes your eyes go wide.
“Mamamama!” Big Mom laughs in delight, “They’re good, aren’t they? My chefs are the best in the whole world!”
When you finish the cookie, you bow your head low, sincerely grateful that she kept her word. Despite everything—despite the fact that she turned on your dad in the end—you know exactly how the war would have gone if she hadn’t been there. You knew how dangerous it was to ask for her help, you don’t care how close it was, your family is alive. It was worth it.
“Thank you for coming.”
“Mamamama, you certainly made it worth my while! And I get a whole month with you!”
Your stomach squeezes uncomfortably. Why did she say it like you spending a month in Totto Land is just an added bonus?
You’re missing something and it’s making you even more uneasy.
Big Mom shovels another pile of cookies into her mouth and wipes her face with the back of her hand. Then she looks forward and grins down at you.
“Well, sweetheart? Are you ready to go?”
You inhale, hold it for three seconds, and then exhale slowly.
“Not yet.”
Big Mom’s eyebrows rise and the whole ship goes silent. The pirates hauling ropes and securing cargo and unfurling sails all stop dead to stare at you in shock. Beckman stiffens and Yasopp’s hands are already on his guns. But neither of them move. At this point, you’re used to having hundreds of eyes on you, which is the only reason your knees don’t give out under the overwhelming attention.
“We said I’d spend a month with you in Totto Land, and I meant it. But not yet.”
Big Mom’s eyebrows rise even higher. The first wisps of anger brush against your Observation Haki and you focus on keeping your own breathing calm. No matter how strong she is, she can’t touch your life force if you’re not afraid. You know as well as she does that she can’t touch you right now, not if she wants any chance of the Whitebeards letting you honor your deal. To say nothing of what Shanks will do.
“Are you trying to go back on your word?”
“No.”
Let’s be crystal clear about something; Big Mom is a dangerous psychopath. As much as you sympathize with the little girl that just wanted to help people and make a world where everyone could get along, you have no illusions about the kind of monster Charlotte Linlin is now. Whatever she wants with you, you’re well aware of the fact that it’s because you are Edward Alexandria, and more likely than not, she thinks the fact that you share his family name means you’re his biological child because that’s something she cares an idiotic amount about. But the fact remains, you made a deal and she kept her end of it.
“We said after we were all back in the New World and everything’s settled. It’s not settled yet. Everyone is still recovering. I’m not leaving my dad until I know he’s okay. But once he is, I will come spend a month with you. I promise. And I take my promises seriously.”
There’s a long pause. Big Mom stares at you and you stare right back, ignoring the hundreds of Big Mom pirates and their panic that snaps at your Haki from all directions. There’s a jingling sound as Katakuri crosses his arms over his chest, and you’re pretty sure you just heard Smoothie hum quietly. When the stalemate breaks, it breaks by Big Mom throwing her head back and laughing.
“Mamamama, your father is lucky to have such a devoted daughter! Alright, Alexandria, I’ll accept your word. When you’re ready, just give me a call and I’ll have my children pick you up straight away. But don’t keep me waiting too long, understand?”
“I won’t. I promise.”
Your legs are still too unsteady to cross the gangplank on your own, but unlike Beckman and Yasopp who each took you by the arm to guide you across, Marco bends down and wraps you up in his arms. You don’t mind it at first, but even when you’re fully aboard the Mini Moby, he doesn’t seem to have any intentions of setting you down.
“Marco, I can walk. Put me down.”
“No.”
“Marco!” you protest, kicking your legs out, but you run out of steam almost immediately. Marco just laughs and shifts you a little bit in his arms. The hold does not get any looser.
“Whine as much as you like, yoi,” Marco teases you, solid emotion hiding under the cheerful lilt, “I’m never putting you down again.”
“Like hell you aren’t,” Jozu crosses his arms over his chest.
“You’ll share, just like the rest of us,” Fossa’s voice leaves no room for argument. Your eyes are leaking again but nobody mentions it. They’re definitely not all teary-eyed either.
“You can all have a turn later.”
It’s not often that Marco asserts his authority as second-in-command, and it’s even less often that he abuses it to get what he wants. But you’re every bit as aware as the rest of your brothers that Marco is NOT putting you down.
His arms are tight around you, boxing you in against his chest, and it’s warm and safe and even though you’ve only been awake for an hour, between the stress of Waking Up and not knowing what was happening, and then meeting Big Mom face-to-face, plus the deep-seated ache in your bandaged arms and the unnatural exhaustion filling your veins with lead… you feel like shit.
“How far is it?” you ask quietly, doing your best to fight back a face-splitting yawn.
“We’re half an hour from the Moby,” Rakuyo’s answer is soft, just as soft as his hand that pets through the short strands of your hair.
“We’ve got you,” Marco promises and you’ve never believed anything he’s said more than you do in this moment. Your family has you. You’re safe. They’re safe.
Your eyes flutter shut despite your best attempts to keep them open and a new hand—too smooth and soft to be anyone but Izou’s—gently guides your head back to rest on Marco’s chest.
“You can sleep,” Izou’s voice is as sweet as honey and every bit as soothing, a soft finger running along your cheek. If you weren’t so exhausted, it would tickle a little, “We’ll wake you up when we get home.”
Home.
“I wan’ go home,” you mumble, shifting the tiniest bit Marco’s arms. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and the sensation of his flames dancing over your skin is a balm to every hurt you’ve ever felt. His arms tighten again and you’re already most of the way to sleep.
“That’s right, Lexa. We’re going home.”
“Lexie!” Haruta shouts as he runs across the deck at top speed. Your Observation spikes and you look up in time to see his shoe snag on a damaged plank and then he face-plants into the deck with a massive crash. He hops up immediately and brushes himself off, but the damage is done. The entire ship was watching.
It’s like a dam breaking. You don’t know who starts laughing first, but one after another your brothers crack up like it’s the funniest joke in the world, and all you can hear is the sound of laughter; it’s the sound of anxiety and fear evaporating and leaving behind giddy relief.
You don’t laugh, but when you look up at Marco, he gives you a look of utter adoration with the tiniest bit of amusement at Haruta’s misfortune, and your chest soars because your family is the part of you that’s been missing these last few months and, in that moment, it feels like being whole again.
There is a lot of crying. You’re doing a lot of it, but you aren’t the only one. Your brothers behave themselves as Marco carefully carries you across the gangplank, but the second you’re both safely aboard the Moby, they swarm.
There’s a sea of crying faces that swim in and out of your vision, every one of them reaching for you and kissing your head or patting your arm or holding some part of you and you’re grateful that you’re still incredibly out of it because you can just enjoy the steady onslaught of your family’s love and joy and relief without getting overwhelmed by it. It’s one after the next and you do your best to follow along with who’s hugging you but there’s just too many.
A sharp smell of grease and smoke burns through the daze and you blink a few times as you try to clear your nostrils. Marco shifts you until you’re almost sitting up in his arms, giving you a better view as a grease and sweat-covered Blamenco pulls you into a hug.
“…you smell so bad,” you mumble before your brain has any part of it, and when it catches up your cheeks burn because that’s really the first thing you’re going to say to your poor brother???
Luckily, Blamenco just throws his head back and laughs, the palm of his hand still planted comfortingly on top of your head.
“I know, kid,” he teases you, a warm light shining in his eyes as he stares down at you like he can’t believe you’re really here, “Sorry about that. Someone’s got to keep the ship floating.”
The reminder of all the damage the ship took during the war—nowhere near as bad as it could have been, but cannonballs are still cannonballs—and your brow furrows.
“Is Moby… is she okay?”
“Course she is,” Blamenco answers gently, his palm moving back and forth along your head and it makes the tightness in your chest loosen. You don’t even want to imagine what your hair looks like right now though. “We’ve got her patched up enough to get through Fishman Island. Once we’re docked in the New World, she’ll get all the care she could ever want.”
That’s good.
You can’t imagine a world without the Moby Dick, and you know your brother well enough to tell that he means every word of it. He’s completely sure that him and the rest of his division will be able to repair your home.
But it’s only then that you realize what looks different about it. The whole ship is covered in sap, the coating nearly completed. You didn’t notice it with Marco holding you, but when you reach out one bandaged hand towards the railing, the texture under your hand is springy and cold and a little wet.
You’re going back to the New World.
You think of weeks of sailing around in circles, anxiety growing worse and worse with every day that you spent running out the clock, just waiting for the day the call came and you could end the entire mess. It didn’t go the way you planned. But despite everything, your family found you. You’re all going home together.
The Commanders are all gathered around you now, you take your sweet time counting to sixteen before remembering that Ace is still with Law and Luffy and Sabo so that’s why your count is off, and realize that Blamenco was the last one to come greet you.
But there’s someone missing. And his absence gets more conspicuous the longer the celebrations go on.
Thatch notices immediately when you can’t hide the worried frown anymore.
“Allie? What’s wrong, are you okay?”
You swallow, and you can’t make a sound any louder than a whisper.
“Where’s dad?”
All the commanders exchange looks.
The door creaks ominously as Marco nudges it open and carries you inside. Your dad’s room is dark. There’s a steady rumble and a low drone that doesn’t sound quite right. He’s snoring, so he’s just asleep, but he’s clearly hurt. Your dad is covered in bandages and what you can see of his skin is covered in bruises. The sight makes your chest tighten. Without meaning to, you’re already reaching out.
“Can I… is it okay—?”
“You’re not going to hurt him,” Marco reassures you.
True to his word, he hasn’t put you down since you boarded the Mini Moby, but he doesn’t even hesitate before setting you on your dad’s chest. It’s not the easiest thing in the world to maneuver yourself into a comfortable spot with both of your arms bandaged to hell and back but it’s worth all the hassle when you’re lying on top of your dad, your head resting against his sternum, the steady rumble of his breathing and the gentle rise and fall combining with the intense exhaustion in your entire body to drag you under.
But it’s his heartbeat, the strong and stable thud-thump that echoes in your ears that makes the pit in your stomach finally loosen.
Two massive hands rise up to settle on top of you, one after the other, and even in his sleep, your dad’s expression changes to pure, content relief.
It’s over. It’s really over.
You’re home.
You fall asleep on your dad’s chest.
You wake up slowly. Every time your eyes flutter open, everything is so dark and calm and familiar that you just immediately drift off again. Massive fingers run up and down your back and you’re not sure when you turned over onto your front but you’re curled up under your dad’s hands and everything just feels so safe and calm and nice.
You drift off again.
When your eyes open for real, the first thing you see is your dad smiling down at you softly, his hand still rubbing your back.
You blink up at him.
“Hi.”
Your dad gives you a smile that’s warm and fond and his eyes are definitely wet.
“Hi,” he says back.
You swallow, your throat suddenly tight in a way that has nothing to do with how strained and raw it is from overdoing it with your Haki.
“I…”
You can’t get the words out. Everything you want to say gets stuck in your throat because your dad is right here despite everything and he tore the oceans apart to find you and bring you home and you don’t even know where to start—
“How are you feeling?” your dad asks gently. The question doesn’t just catch you off guard, it completely derails your entire brain because how can he possibly ask you something like that at a time like this, when you have everything to answer for and he’s heavily injured from the war he fought to save you and Ace and at the same time, you feel like a moron because of course he’d ask you that first. Of course that would be the only thing he cares about.
And to be completely honest, you feel awful. Your body feels like it’s full of lead and you’re lightheaded and even though you only just woke up and it’s completely dark outside even though it was pretty early in the day when you arrived at the Moby, you’re already struggling to keep your eyes open. That’s not an exaggeration; you’re panting from the effort it takes to keep yourself awake. And you’re not breathing right. It’s too shallow, too hard to get a full breath in when it feels like there’s a lead block sitting on top of your chest. It’s a weird feeling; your mind is awake but your body hasn’t gotten the message and you don’t have the terror of waking up confused and scared on Shanks’ ship or the absolute necessity of powering through your meeting with Big Mom to force yourself through it.
You’re here with your dad.
You’re safe.
Completely and totally safe and every part of you knows it.
You’re going to pass out again any second.
“…tired…” you mumble, tears already pooling in your eyes and it makes your vision go blurry and you’re hit with a sudden wave of déjà vu because you feel small and helpless and exhausted and it’s like you’re right back where you started, right down to the aching throat from three straight days of crying, right at the moment where your dad decided to keep you. He’s even holding you in the same hand.
But you’re not an infant anymore. And you have so much to apologize for.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”
Your dad sits up, carefully holding you in place so you don’t go flying as he levers himself up to a seated position. The motion cuts you off and you can’t help holding on to his hand as he raises you up to a position where the two of you can look right at each other.
The sting in your eyes is getting worse but you don’t let the tears fall. Not yet. Because if you start crying, he’ll drop everything to comfort you, and you have to face the consequences of what you’ve done.
“You knew Teach was a traitor.”
You can’t meet his eyes. Looking down at his hands, you nod slowly.
“Did… did you think I wouldn’t believe you?” your dad asks, and your Haki is replenished enough that you can feel the anxiety twisting through every word, the fear and guilt that everything that happened was his doing.
“No! No, of course not, I…” you trail off, licking your lips nervously before managing to get a hold of yourself enough to take a deep breath. Or at least, a deeper breath, “I…I didn’t know what he would do if you threw him off the ship.”
Your dad is quiet.
“I… even when we were… fighting, I always knew you’d believe me if I told, and I wanted to, dad I wanted to tell you so badly but I was so scared that if I did… if I told you and then something went wrong and he… I couldn’t risk that. I couldn’t. I—”
There’s a low rush of air as your dad inhales, and you squeeze your eyes shut, dropping your head as guilt and shame and grief flood your chest. Whatever’s coming, you deserve it.
“There…” your dad starts, but this is clearly just as hard for him as it is for you and he can’t get the words out on the first try either, “there is no apology that would be enough to tell you how sorry I am that—”
“What?” you blink at him in a stupor, blinking even harder to try and make the insane words make sense. “What are you talking about, I’m the one who should be sorry—”
“Andrea.”
“No, I’m the one who should be apologizing, everything that’s happened was all because of me, it’s my fault.”
“Andrea.”
“I stole Thatch’s fruit and I was stupid and trusted Teach and the war only happened because—”
“Alexandria.”
His voice leaves no room for argument. Your mouth shuts and you blink up at him, dizzy with guilt and confusion while you fight against yourself to hold it together a little bit longer.
“I went to Marineford expecting a trap. Every one of us went knowing that. In all the plans we made, even the best possible case, there wasn’t a single one where you and I got to have this conversation.”
“But—”
“I know things didn’t work out the way you planned. But what you did… my children are alive because of it.”
Your dad hesitates for a second before a somber look crosses his face.
“I’m alive because of it.”
The first tear trickles down your face. And that’s all it takes to break open the floodgates. A giant hand scoops you up and hugs you tight to his chest, enveloping you completely as the embrace swallows up the entire world.
“There will be time to talk later. Right now, it’s time to rest.”
You open your mouth to protest but absolutely nothing comes out. You want to believe him so badly. Fourteen years and everything you did was for them. And you fucked up, so many times and so many different ways, but somehow, your dad is alive. Ace is alive.
You did it. You… you saved them.
“I’m right here,” your dad promises. The hand moving along your back feels like it’s dragging through your brain, cutting through the little remaining brainpower you have and exhaustion ripples out in its place. You’re so tired. “I’m not going anywhere. You can rest. You’re safe.”
He bends down and presses a kiss to your forehead, gentle as anything, and when you look each other in the eyes, the rest of the world isn’t there anymore. There’s just your dad. Telling you,
“I love you.”
“…love you too,” you murmur. And you give in to the exhaustion and let yourself pass out in your dad’s hand.