Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Ace. Ace. Ace.” 

Ace lays real still. Maybe, if his breathing stays even and his head doesn’t shift, Luffy will think he’s asleep, and leave him alone…so he can actually be asleep. 

“Aaaaaaaaaace.”

No such luck. 

There’s shifting blankets and wiggling weight that slumps closer until a small, warm body is pressed against his side. Luffy bends around him, rubber, too-long fingers curling around his upper arm to tug. Still pretending to be limp, Ace goes rolling onto his back. Luffy takes advantage of this change in position and goes crawling on top of him, shoving his face into the crook of Ace’s neck, so hair tickles beneath his chin.

“Ace, please,” Luffy tries again. “Wake up, wake up, wake up!” 

At this, Ace reaches his breaking point. Clearly, this problem won’t resolve itself. 

“Fine,” he groans. “What do you want?”

“‘M not tired anymore.”

Ace glances out the window. The sky is still clearly dark. Well into the night hours, with more to go before daybreak. “It’s the middle of the night.” 

“I don’t caaaaare.” 

Ace gives him a shove, so he goes rolling away. “Stop whining!” 

Except instead of stopping the wheedling, this brings tears. Fat drops of salt water go sliding down his brother’s face and then Luffy is sobbing and sniffling and clinging and this time, Ace hesitates before shoving him off. 

“Sabo would play with me,” Luffy says. 

They’ve done this before though. “I’m not Sabo,” Ace says tiredly. 

Luffy just cries harder. 

“Shut up,” Ace hisses. 

Luffy bawls. 

“Ughhh,” Ace groans, flipping over to look at him. “Stop. Crying.” 

“I ca-a-a-an’t,” Luffy moans 

Ace hits him over the head, which unfortunately doesn’t help, but it’s not like there’s a guide to the big brothering thing and Ace is running on instinct. He’s not Sabo, whose hands brushed away tears and carded through hair in the small hours of the night. Who blew on chunks of scalding meat before handing them over. Who frowned when Luffy’s nails or hair grew too long and dragged all three of them to Makino for fixing it. 

Ace is different. Ace holds Luffy upside down as he yanks him away from the toothy maws of predators. Ace shoves Luffy in the face to push him out of the pathway of angry townsfolk. Ace hooks Luffy around his rubbery lip and lets him spring painfully into the ground to stop him from diving over cliffs and into river pools. 

But Ace has to change now. He has to be the big brother that notices things like long hair and frowns. He has to brush away tears and make sure Luffy is eating vegetables and learning new words. He has to change…he doesn’t know how.

Ace sighs. Luffy is still sobbing at his side, fat tears clumping his eyelashes and nose running as he buries his face against Ace’s side, hitching breaths whispering a name. Sabo. 

Ace is not Sabo. 

But he does what he think Sabo’d do—that’ll have to be enough.  

“Lu,” Ace says, placing a hand on Luffy’s head and tugging him back so Ace can actually see his face. “Why aren’t you tired?”

Luffy cries. Ace waits, wondering if he should try something else, like sparring, or bribing him with meat. Words aren’t really his thing and he’s probably not doing this right. 

“I don’t wanna sleep,” Luffy says eventually. 

Ace can’t tell if this is progress. “Why?”

“Bad dreams,” Luffy says. 

What can Ace do with that? He thinks back to Sabo, pressing circles into Luffy’s back and whispering soft things. Whispering soft questions. 

“Do you…” Ace struggles. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Luffy cries harder. 

“Stop it!” Ace hisses. He's tired and frustrated and he can't do this like Sabo did. Ace forces his clenched teeth to relax, his fists to uncurl. “Stop crying and tell me what’s really wrong so I can fix it and go to bed.” 

“You can’t, can’t fix it-t,” Luffy cries.

“Try me,” Ace says. 

And then Luffy is throwing himself back into Ace’s throat, crying salt rivers that drench the collar of his pajama shirt. Ace doesn’t know where to put his arms, but Sabo’s circles pop into mind, and he does a kind of easy smack to Luffy’s upper back. The kid hiccups in response. “Shh.” Ace sighs. “C’mon Luf, shh…”

It’s several minutes of this, and Ace doesn’t interrupt. Part of him is wondering if Luffy will tucker himself out with the wailing, though another part of him is reluctant to bet on that, what with the seemingly endless pools of energy he seems to keep in reserve. Finally, the sobs turn closer to continuous, uncontrollable hiccups. Luffy’s grip—tight fistfuls that successfully wrinkle and ruin Ace’s shirt— starts to loosen. He nuzzles his crown against Ace’s collarbone. 

“Better?” Ace tries. 

Some more sniffling, tears and worse being rubbed into Ace’s skin and clothes as Luffy gives a solemn little nod. “Uhuh.”

But his little brother still seems far from sleep, and Ace knows, if Luffy’s awake, the same goes for him. He starts to pull on Luffy’s fingers in a playful way, watching the digits snap, far stretchier than any human has a right to. “Good job,” Ace tries, hoping the praise does something the ordering around hasn’t. “Just, keep breathing.” 

Luffy takes dramatic, snuffling breaths.

“Good,” Ace mumbles. He reaches up with one hand, over Luffy’s back, trying to rub some of the sleep from his eyes. “Wanna tell me what’s going on now?”

“Bad dream,” Luffy repeats, but when he feels Ace’s intake of breath, the upcoming sigh sure to follow, he hurries to take on. “It was Sabo, but then it wasn’t just Sabo. It was you, and Makino, and Shanks, and Dadan, and everyone else, and, and, and…” 

Luffy’s working himself up again. 

“Dreams aren’t real,” Ace hurries to say. “It’s just your head, playing tricks. I’m right here, and Makino’s at her bar, and Dadan’s at her place, and Shanks is….” Ace doesn’t really know where Shanks is. “He’s fine.” 

“Sabo isn’t.” 

And, well, there’s no getting around that. “Sabo’s…” Ace almost says something regurgitated, like, that he’s in a better place. But really, Ace doesn’t know if he believes that. He just knows that Sabo isn’t here. That he left Ace alone with their grieving little brother. But Ace has to say something. “Sabo’s not, not fine,” Ace says, cringing. “He doesn't have anything to worry about anymore. It’s like…like he’s asleep. Having good dreams.” 

“Good dreams…” Luffy chews on. 

Ace rubs his back. 

“That’s not so bad,” Luffy says. 

“Yeah,” Ace says quietly. “Good dreams are fun.” 

“Sometimes I’m a pirate,” Luffy tells him, immediately flitting into the new idea. “In them. With my crew. You’re on my crew,” he clarifies. 

“Brat,” Ace snorts, like Dadan does when she doesn’t hit. “If anything, you’d be on my crew. My cabin boy, maybe.” 

“No!” Luffy smacks a hand against Ace’s chest. “I’m gonna be a captain. Like Shanks! And then I’ll be the King of the Pirates.” 

He says it with so much certainty, but he doesn’t even know, the claim he’s making. When Luffy can’t even beat Ace when they spar. When he wraps himself up in his bullets and limbs more than he uses them to hit a target. Stationary, at that. 

But something in his tone…the conviction…

“We’ll see,” Ace says simply. 

“You’ll see,” Luffy returns. He snuggles, nose digging somewhere near Ace's collarbone.

“Yeah,” Ace says, trying to foster a lighter mood. “I’ll be there for whatever chaos you bring.”

“King of the Pirates,” Luffy repeats, stubborn in his sincerity. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Ace lets a hand come up, drifting through Luffy’s hair. He tries to gauge the length. It’s hard. He can’t quite tell what’s considered ‘wild’. He doesn’t mind much if it is, but it’s something Sabo cared about, and Makino too. He can tell that it’s feeling a little too greasy. It’ll be time for a wash soon. If they want a proper one, that means visiting Dadan. Ace wouldn’t mind seeing the bandits—as much company as Luffy is, Ace likes having visits with Makino, has bright points with Dadan and the bandits, and tolerates interactions with those at Gray Terminal. And it’s good for Luffy, too. To see people other than Ace. 

Drifting in his thoughts, breaths starting to even, Ace feels himself beginning to drift…

“Ace?” Luffy mumbles. 

Ace cracks an eye open. “Hmm?”

“...how do I know, if I sleep, it’s gonna be a good one.” 

Ace hums to borrow time. He doesn’t have an answer, he doesn’t have a way to keep Luffy from being afraid of sleep—but he has to find one. It’s his job to protect the kid, to look out for him. From everything. That includes sleep. 

“I guess you don’t know,” Ace says. “But I’ll be here for whatever kind it is, okay? And…” Ace grimaces a little as he says it. “If you sleep and it’s not one of the, the good ones. You can just wake me up.”

“Really?”

Ace nods, hand rubbing Luffy’s upper arm and shoulder, squeezing. “Go to sleep,” he says, gentler than earlier. Softening his tone to sound more life Sabo, because that’s who he needs to be right now. Who Luffy needs right now. “I’m right here.” 

And Luffy takes several deep breaths, which turn into several more, and then he’s snoring into Ace’s side. Ace expects to follow right after him, but that doesn’t happen. 

Instead, he lies awake for several minutes. Luffy is warm against him, chest rising and falling gently. His hair tickles a little, where it brushes against Ace’s bare arm. And Ace suddenly feels frozen, like moving even an inch will wake him, and waking Luffy from peaceful sleep is the most egregious thing Ace can think of.

So Ace tries not to move an inch, ever mindful of the little boy using him as a mattress, and a shield all the same. 

Ever mindful, like he always will be.