Son of Father

Ace was born in hard times. Times of the Prime of the greatest pirates. He had been sailing with his father, Gol D. Roger, for about 17 years until it became clear that he was sick.

"Dad..." Ace was standing in front of his father, the great pirate heaving into his hand, clots of blood spilling between his fingers. Roger had one palm leaned onto the table of his office, holding his posture so he wouldn't fall.

"He's a great man. Newgate that is." Roger grunted through a clogged throat. Ace's eyes were trembling. This proposition was unacceptable. He was a Roger Pirate for fuck's sake, he wouldn't go to some random crew, especially not their enemies!

"Dad!-" He wanted to protest, but another coughing streak broke through the air. Roger opened his tired eyes and, with determination, looked at his son.

"I don't have much time left. With him, you will be able to have as many adventures as you want, without getting tied down to your old man." Roger said, Ace clenched his fists, he was ready to scream at his father. Why would he do something like that? He scoffed down and stormed out of the office, knocking the little brats that were eavesdropping to the ground with the impact of the wooden doors. He stomped through the hallways, onto the deck. There was Rayleigh. The older man was reading a newspaper and drinking his tea on the desk. He glanced at him and Ace only pursed his lips, looking away.

"I guess he told you, huh?" The blonde said. Ace ignored him for the favour of looking at the horizon. The raven was frustrated. Only today did he learn that his father was going to give him away.

"I don't understand his actions." Ace answered and leaned onto the railing. He wondered what his father had in plans for Shanks and Buggy. Weren't they thirsty for adventure too?

"This crew will be no more in the upcoming years." Rayleigh declared. Ace only angrily closed his eyes.

"This is bullshit-"

"You know it's not." He was cut off again. He placed his forehead onto the rail. Ace heard footsteps and felt a hand squeezing his shoulder. He tensed, tears forming in his eyes. He had been travelling with this crew ever since he was a kid. It hurt to suddenly say goodbye. "C'mere." Rayleigh grabbed his shoulders and used pure strength to peel the youngster off the railing and hug him tightly. The blonde man was like another father to Ace, his trembling hands grabbed the man's shirt and clenched it, unclenched and then again as his head was buried in Rayleigh's shoulder. The first of his tears began to run down his eyes, soaking the older man's shirt. He sobbed, his shoulders shivering.

A little later, nearing the last of the islands in the New World, where they would learn about the secrets of the entire history, Buggy got sick.

"I will stay with him!" Shanks exclaimed. Buggy was terribly ill, going further would put him and them in danger. And they couldn't afford their crew getting infected too. They decided to leave their young apprentices in the harbour.

In the night, before they left the dock, Ace was called into Roger's captain cabin. He entered and was met with the pair of eyes of the most important people in the crew.

"Come inside, Ace." Roger waved, his voice rough, though it held some kind of thrill in it, maybe he was ready for this last adventure. Ace closed the doors behind himself and faced the people. Rayleigh, Roger.

"Yeah?" He nervously asked. Roger exchanged glances with Rayleigh. The blonde sighed.

"We... want to tell you that in two days you will be departing towards Edward Newgate's ship along with some of his sons." Ace stiffened and his eyes widened. He looked at his father, who closed his eyes.