hiding

Old men are usually right, or crazy

Marco walked another lap around the Moby for what seemed like the millionth time, before finding himself in front of a massive. He starred at the door forever, an internal battle on whether to knock or not. The decision made for him as a deep voice came from inside the room.

"Enter my boy." Marco reluctantly pushed the door open, closing it behind him, "What seems to be bothering you?"

"I think I just created more problems than solved Pops." Marco ran his hand nervously through his hair.

Pops, just like his voice, was huge, easily four times Marco's size. He almost engulfed the throne like chair he was resting in, his head almost touching the ceiling. A huge mug of sake was in his hand. Marco shook his head, knowing that it was not his first mug, probably not even his fifth.

"The girl, I know you are hoping she will stay yoi, but..." Marco sighed, "She's so closed off. She relies on hiding. I lost my temper and may have delayed things even more."

"So, it's delayed, we have all the time in the world son." Whitebeard chuckled, "As much as I like the idea of gaining a daughter, we can give her as much time as she needs."

"She's frustrating. I'm not sure how well I will be able to handle her." Marco's face was filled with frustration, "This would be much easier if she would be herself. She actually wants to die! She wants to give up! You can't just roll over like that yoi. Are you sure she is someone we should have on board? So willing to give up?"

"Are you questioning a family member's worth?" Whitebeard himself, now appeared irritated, "If Thatch came to you, and stated he felt like he wanted to die, because life was too much for him at the moment, would you cast him off on the next island because he no longer meets your standards?"

"No, of course not.."

"If Jozu suddenly became disabled, and could no longer fight as well as he use to, is he no longer invaluable to the family? Should he be tossed aside?" Marco was quiet, looking ashamed.

"No, of course not Pops. But this girl, she's not family. She hasn't accepted." Let alone been offered a place amongst us yet, Marco thought to himself.

"She is my daughter, whether she realizes it now or not." Whitebeard laughed as if that statement was a casual thing to say, "Family has times when they struggle. Life can be very unforgiving to some, you yourself know this. It's moments like this when one must be reminded of the reasons to continue on."

"I understand."

"Family is invaluable, no matter the situation. That is one of the many joys of family. No matter your flaws, or the mistakes you make, your family will always accept you. Family should never have requirements, especially not ones that determine one's worthiness to remain family."

"I'm sorry Pops. I guess I let me get the better of myself. As always, your right." Marco hung his head down.

"Don't apologize, you've done nothing wrong my child." Whitebeard stated, "When she is ready, I would like to meet my daughter." Whitebeard grinned as if he was a big child receiving a present on Christmas.

Marco shook his head and chuckled, leaving the room. Marco wondered if often he was the only adult on board. He walked a bit more, pondering over everything Pops had said, before returning back to his room. It had been a few hours now; it was almost full nightfall.

Opening the door to his room, Marco could barely make out the person on his bed. Alexia had encased herself in his blankets, curled into a ball in the middle of his bed. He chuckled, brushing a stray piece of hair off of her face. She looked so peaceful when she was sleeping.

Knowing he wasn't going to get any rest now that his bed was occupied, Marco lit an oil lamp, and went to work on the pile of papers resting on his desk, that always seemed to multiply. Groaning, Marco noticed a new pile of papers, uncompleted, dumped on his desk from what should have be the fifth division's responsibility. He was going to have to pay Vista a visit in the morning.