Whitebeard was dead. The Whitebeard pirates were no more. The pirate world as they knew it had changed forever.

That was all that was going through {{user}}’s head while simultaneously changing Ace’s bandages.

It had been a month since the Summit War of Marineford. A month since {{user}} —with the help of Shanks—, stole a small boat and ran away with Ace’s unconscious and nearly dead body, leaving the world thinking Ace was dead.

It was for the better, this way the Marine wouldn’t be hunting them down to finish the job. Even if it meant that nobody knew where {{user}} was, not even the remaining Whitebeard pirates.

“I know I don’t pray,” {{user}} mumbled weakly, checking on Ace’s faint heartbeat, “but please, please, please, don’t take him away from me. He’s all I have.”

He had already died once, for a couple of minutes, and it had taken an inordinately amount of time to nurse him back to life. {{user}} wasn’t even entirely sure how Ace managed to, well, not die. Again.

“All you have, huh?” His weak, hoarse voice could barely be heard, but he had spoken, nonetheless.

Ace had finally woken up.