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In spite of his best efforts, Ace is stuck taking care of two brats. 

It was day two of Sabo’s persisting illness and Ace thought that Sabo would prefer to die in peace at a hospital, if only to avoid the series of hellish mishaps at home. Or, as he calls them, “Disasters.” 

These Disasters were exactly the reason why he warned the blond numerous times to stay away from Luffy. His intuition knew that this circumstance would be worse than the last. 

Because the last time that Luffy was sick, and subsequently Sabo, Luffy was a baby. Babies could hardly move and so they cannot commit Disasters. They did not require constant supervision to mitigate them from causing chaos. 

Luffy, now a toddler, is proving to be a poor caretaker. His big heart is undoubtedly in the right place but the execution needed a lot of work, leaving Ace responsible for damage control.

This morning debuted Disaster #1. 

The fatigue was catching up to Ace. Sleep was elusive when either one of them got sick. He’d spent the previous night watching over Sabo’s fever and Luffy’s concerning attempts to help. He learned quickly that he must maintain constant alertness when the toddler is present around his current charge. 

Ace swears he only closed his eyes for a couple of minutes. 

When he forced his eyelids to open, there was a sopping wet towel being dragged across the floor. Luffy was lugging it with both hands and marched with focused determination. 

It took Ace a moment to process that the toddler was dragging that sodden towel to Ace’s room. 

Where Sabo is currently bedbound. 

He jolted out of the kitchen, slid on the wet trail, and skidded to a stop at the doorway. 

But it was too late. 

With mighty strength, Luffy heaved the towel over his shoulder. 

It was like watching a train wreck. A promise of indomitable damage that he couldn’t look away from. 

The towel arched gracefully in the air. Rainbow droplets of water sprinkled everywhere like glitter. 

It landed with a heavy, moist SLAP! on Sabo’s face. 

Ace yelped. “Luffy!” 

“Sabo, Bath Time!” 

The sad lump on the bed groaned. Sabo tried to roll away from the uncomfortable dampness of the towel. It was difficult for him to do when he was buried under a mountain of blankets, of which Ace didn’t remember placing. 

“No, it’s not Bath Time.” Ace lifted the toddler to perch on the bed. He took the fallen washcloth and guided Luffy to fold it into a sloppy rectangle. “Like this, see?” 

They gingerly deposited it on the blond’s forehead.

“Get this off me,” whined Sabo. 

Engulfed by an assortment of blankets, comforters, and a wet towel, he looked downright miserable. 

Ace cursed at his missight. 

He can’t let his guard down with these two. 

Then came lunch time, which brought Disaster #2. 

The eldest and the youngest were gathered on the kitchen table. A medley of spices surrounded a warm bowl of soup. Ace may not be as good of a cook as Makino but he believed that even he could manage microwaving a can of soup. 

Luffy pointed at a container. “What’s that?” 

“Salt. It’s to make the soup salty. For flavor.” He explained robotically. 

“What’s that?” 

“Pepper. Also for flavor.” 

“What’s that?”

“Red pepper flakes. It’s to make the soup spicy.”

“Why?”

“The spice helps clear the sinuses.” 

The child continued to stare at him, a sign that his response was insufficient to satisfy his curiosity. 

Ace floundered. He didn’t know how to explain sinuses or why spiciness helps. That was Marco and Deuce’s realm of knowledge.

When stumped, Ace insisted in a matter-of-fact tone that meant he is not to be questioned further. “It just helps.” 

His phone rang. The screen read “Pops.” Ace sighed, he felt regretful to be letting his father down like this, having to once again skip out on work to tend to these brats. 

He padded the bowl and gave it to the toddler. “Give this to Sabo. Be careful, okay? Don’t spill it. If you spill it, you lose.” 

Luffy loved games. The big brothers could make any mild chore a game and the child would do his best to win. Their little brother hated being a loser. 

The child nodded at the challenge. His small mouth pursed into a strict line. 

Ace nodded back and stepped out to take the call. 

He swears again that it only took a couple of minutes, less than a couple of minutes, that his eyes were off the toddler. 

Ace apologized to Pops for his absence and unavailability. To his humiliation and never ending gratitude, his father simply laughed it off. Pops praised him for taking care of his family and Ace had to end the call before he became too flustered to speak. 

After ending the call, he rubbed his temples. A migraine began to set in. 

He turned around to examine the floor and was pleased to note that Luffy did not spill any food. Leave it to Luffy to win a game and make sure that food didn’t go to waste. 

“Sabo, soup.” The toddler’s voice resonated from Ace’s room. “Aah!” 

A moment later, Ace heard Sabo staggering to the bathroom and slamming the door shut. His mouth fell open at the retching that echoed from within. 

Luffy trailed after him, lost. His big eyes were even bigger with concern while he held the bowl. “Tummy hurt?” 

He bellowed in the direction of the bathroom. “Rude! Just say that you hate my cooking!” Ace took the soup and mumbled after taking a bite. “I’m not that bad of a—” 

A surge of fire spread through his taste buds. He covered his mouth in surprise and looked down at the bowl.

Red pepper flakes floated innocently on the surface.

His lips pulled into a frown as he mumbled disconcertedly. “Did I put too much in here?” 

“I put more!” The little one squeaked helpfully. 

He whipped his head to look at his little brother. “You put what?” 

“Red stuff.” Shaking the empty container at him, Luffy nodded with the satisfaction of a brilliant idea. “It helps.” 

Ace gasped in horror. He immediately visualized Luffy tampering with the soup while he’d been on the phone with Pops. As if trying to disprove his imagination, he scooped another spoonful.

Sure enough, a mountain of red pepper flakes emerged. 

He heard Sabo gagging from the bathroom. 

Panic surged. “Luffy, no, that’s not how it works! Why did you do that!” 

“You said it helps!” 

Sabo called for him through his suffering. 

Stressed, Ace yelled louder at the child. “Who told you to dump the whole thing in there?! You ruined it, it’s too spicy now!” 

Luffy did not appreciate the accusatory and reprimanding tone. He did not need Ace’s permission to help Sabo feel better. In fact, Ace said that the red stuff helped. So if he put more, that means it helped more. He did nothing wrong and Ace is just being mean again. 

“Not spicy!” The toddler crossed his arms. 

“Yes, it is!” 

Luffy stamped his foot. “NUH UH!”

Ace’s eye twitched.

As much as he would do anything for this little twerp, Luffy’s high-pitched, whiny, demanding tone angered him instantly like no other. It was infuriating that this pipsqueak shouted in his face and challenged him when he was too young to know anything. 

As their grandpa always said: Experience is an effective teacher. 

“Oh, you don’t think so? Here.” He thoughtlessly shoved the spoon through the child’s open mouth. 

Carried away by his temper, he realized seconds later, when the toddler’s face turned bright red, that Luffy never had this level of spice before. 

Luffy spat the flakes out but remainders persistently clung to his mouth.

Blotchy and upset, his tongue as red as his face, Luffy made his distress explicitly clear. 

“AaaAaAAHHH!” 

“Aw, shi— shoot, shoot!” He ran to the kitchen and wrenched the fridge door open for the milk. “I’m sorry, don’t cry! Drink this.” Shoving the milk at Luffy, he tilted the jug and almost upended it all over the toddler. He shouted over to the bathroom door. “Sabo, hold on!” 

It was just like Luffy to chug the last of the milk and Ace had to haul ass to the store. 

Now, Ace is trying to prevent Disaster #3. 

When he returned home, Ace found a puddle of water leading from the kitchen to the bathroom. It made him question if the milk he bought in panic was needed anymore. He didn’t want to know. 

He shakes his head despite the pounding headache and concentrates on breathing. 

In his mind is a mantra: “We’re not going to think about the mess, we’re not going to look at the mess, because we’re going to stress out about the mess, and we don’t need that.”

The child isn’t currently adding to the mess which is a plus. It appears that Luffy is still mad at him for his earlier stunt and went to Sabo’s room to sulk. At least he doesn’t hold grudges. His absence would allow Sabo, and Ace, respite from further chaos. 

Ace slowly approaches the dismal figure on his bed. He carefully sits next to it and pats at it sympathetically. 

It tenses immediately at his touch but winds down once it recognizes who it is.

Not asleep, then. 

“Hey, how’re you feeling?” 

Sabo doesn’t reply. He’s hidden under the blankets to protect himself from their little brother. There was no whining or complaining or fussing, which means that he is not feeling good at all. 

Delicately, the eldest peels off a layer. Blond strands spring out in disarray in the worst bedhead Ace has ever seen that he's tempted to brush it himself. What isn’t tangled is damp, flattened against his skin. 

Ace checks his temperature. 

The thermometer blinks red. He bites his lip at the reading. That soup disaster triggered another fever and most likely, a very upset stomach. 

He shifts his attention to his phone waiting in the living room. 

An unsavory whisper of a thought had been building up in his head since last night. It wasn’t a terrible idea but it’s one that assures consequences in the form of nagging. A nagging so relentless that it will bounce between his ears for days. 

(And reside under his skin for years.)

“Hrghh…”

A heavy groan pulls his attention back to the lump. It twitches as it folds in on itself. 

Sabo is making nauseated whimpers as if he’s trying not to throw up again. 

Ace winces in empathy. He pinches the bridge of his nose. This was his fault for letting his guard down.

The phone urges him noiselessly. His sanity is surely wearing thin if he is considering this as a viable solution.

Another groan beside him, long and woeful. 

Finally, Ace sucks it up. He can do this. For Sabo. 

He stands resolutely and strides to the phone like a man ready to face war. His hand quivers momentarily before he shuts it down with a frustrated growl. 

Before he could hesitate again, he swiftly grabs the phone and punches the keys.

It dials with foreboding, suspenseful rings from a horror movie.

He closes his eyes tight, bracing himself. 

“Who is it and whaddya want from me?!” 

Her voice instantly pierces through his thin courage. Ace already regrets this. 

“It’s me,” he grouses with gritted teeth. “Can’t you read the caller ID?”

Dadan laughs in a grating, nasally manner that sounds like a dragged out whine. “Eh, so it is you, brat. You only call when you need something. What is it now, huh? Well?! Out with it!”

Ace can feel his teeth grinding together. How is he supposed to give her an answer when she’s barreling ahead to demand it. 

“I need you to take Luffy for the day tomorrow—“

“No!”

She shouts her reply before he could finish. He wonders if she listened to the request or if it’s an ingrained response when it comes to favors. 

Mouth twisting and throat closing, his body viciously recoils as he forces himself to choke out a, “please.”

“Can he walk?” She snaps. 

He blinks. That was a stupid question. She’s seen Luffy in person and if not in person, then in a never ending slew of pictures. Sabo makes sure that she does. 

“Yes.”

“Then hell no! A brat that can walk, can run. He'll tear this place apart like you did!”

“It was already falling apart before I got there and you know it!” His anger explodes. As if taken over by memory, he communicates in the same attitude he thought he outgrew three years ago. “Listen, you old hag! Sabo’s sick and I gotta stay with him, got it?! Luffy can’t be here right now.”

“And what the hell does that have to do with me?!”

Ace hesitates. 

Why did he call her? There was Makino, there was Shanks, there was even his old man who would never let him down. But no, his first thought had been Dadan and her merry band of morons. 

He balls his fists. 

Simple. It’s because he’d hate to disturb Makino, Shanks, and Pops. They have important work to do, unlike Dadan and those idiots. It has nothing to do with the traitorous attachment or silent faith Ace has in her. 

Absolutely nothing to do with it.

Besides, if Shitty Gramps didn’t abandon Luffy to Ace, he undoubtedly would have to Dadan.

This is a reasonable option. 

“I—I need your help,” he says, heaving as if the soup upset his stomach. 

Acid rises and claws its way up his throat. Admitting that he needs help is like a damning declaration to the world that Ace is weak. 

It also hurts, like stabbing his heart with a rusty butter knife. 

Luffy is a handful but he’s a welcome one. A wondrous responsibility that Ace wanted to carry. It kills him to send his little brother away because Ace isn’t strong enough to do this on his own. 

He is past the point of no return. 

Those sunshine smiles have wrapped itself around Ace’s heart and filled it with the warmth of unconditional love.

Even as a baby, for some unknown reason, Luffy chose him.

Despite Ace refusing him at first, his little brother attached himself to him.

Before Ace could demonstrate himself as a failure or prove himself to be worthy, Luffy wanted him. 

Cold-hearted, mean spirited Ace, who broke himself anew and shattered his jagged edges smooth for the baby to hold. 

Silence persists on the other end. 

Ace carefully continues. “Morning and afternoon tomorrow. That’s it. I swear.”

Dadan still does not respond. 

The wait is agonizing. Just as Ace is about to tell her to forget it and hang up the phone, she curses at him loudly. 

“Alright, damn it! But you’re dropping him off and picking him up, got that?”

He breathes out the air he’d been holding. “Yeah, yeah. I was gonna.” Ace adds a second later, begrudgingly. “Thanks.”

Dadan grumbles under her breath. “Just don’t forget to pick him up. The last time a kid got dumped on me, I got stuck with him for seventeen years and he brought a friend.”

Whatever smidgen of gratitude he held for her disappears. 

“Do I look like that useless, old geezer to you?! As if!” He snorts. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she scoffs, “tell the other brat to get better soon.” Afterwards, she shouts hastily. “So I don’t have to play babysitter again!” 

“Sure. Whatever. Bye.” 

As soon as Ace hangs up, the extra tension he held in his neck relaxes. He digs the tips of his fingers at the muscle and moves up to his temples. His head hurts. Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard, or talons against his skull. 

Ace rubs at his eyes. He can’t remember if he’s taken his medicine. Luffy and Sabo’s medicine bottles have overshadowed his own. 

After. He’ll figure it out after. 

He returns to his room where he finds hazy blue eyes peeking at him from the blanket fortress. 

“Everything okay?” Sabo inquires through his sore throat. 

Sabo is both pale and flushed at the same time. The redness on his nose spreads unevenly to his cheeks and neck. It's layered by a shine accumulated from the humidity of shrouding himself with the comforter.

Reaching for the displaced cloth, Ace dabs at the sheen above his brow. 

“Sorry about the noise.” He adds dryly, “Dadan wishes you well.”

The haziness in Sabo’s gaze breaks momentarily as he asks with blunt befuddlement. “‘the hell does she want?”

Ace snickers. “I’m taking Luffy over there tomorrow. Maybe then you could get some rest.”

They share a mutual understanding and a sad sigh. 

Neither of them wanted to admit out loud that Luffy’s bedside manner is more of a hindrance than help. No matter how well-meaning his actions are, good intentions aren’t enough to heal Sabo’s sickness. 

Peace and quiet would. 

“Thanks, Ace.” Sabo says, filled with remorse. Ace hums in reply. “What are you going to tell Luffy?” 

As if summoned, they hear the rapid scurrying of tiny feet. Luffy careens into the room and leaps onto the bed. He bounces on the mattress twice and launches himself into the air, fully intending to land on the blanket pile Sabo is buried in. Ace snatches him from doing just that. 

The little one laughs maniacally and plops himself in his lap without a care. “Tell me what, tell me what?” 

“That you’re a menace!” Ace growls as he wriggles spidery fingers into his stomach. 

Screeching, high-pitched laughter doesn’t help with Ace’s headache, or Sabo’s, but they don’t mind. In the midst of Luffy’s illness, his laugh had been absent and missed. The happy shrieking is a reminder that their little brother is no longer sick. In addition, it seems that he’s forgiven the eldest for this afternoon’s transgression. 

“Thanks!” He giggles and crawls towards the blond. “I wanna help Sabo.” 

In unison, they jerk into stillness and look at each other. Sabo, with suppressed panic at receiving more of Luffy’s “help” and Ace, with restrained exasperation at having to deal with another Disaster. 

Sabo coughs out a strained laugh that sounds more like a croak. “Hey, Lu. How do you feel about playing with Dadan tomorrow?” 

“Stinky, shouty lady?” His button nose wrinkles like he could smell the cigarettes Dadan is fond of. “No!” 

“But stinky, shouty lady misses you.” 

His little brother shoots him A Look. 

It’s amazing how quickly and how well Luffy absorbs their mannerisms. He glances at Sabo like he smelled the bullshit and on top of it is a layer of disappointment for trying to lie. The youngest looks so much like Ace. Sabo can see that clearly because above Luffy’s head is the same, severe expression on a freckled face. 

Clearing his throat, he sends a tight lipped smile at the eldest. 

Ace adjusts the child to sit securely on his lap and thinks for a minute. 

As he thinks, Luffy makes himself into a comfortable, warm ball against his chest. He plays with Ace’s fingers while he waits. 

“Luffy,” Ace begins lightly. “Did you know that stinky, shouty — uh, Dadan — used to take care of me and Sabo? When we were kids.” 

“Like me?” Asks the child while tracing his Life line. 

“Yes, when we were kids like you.”

His little brother looks up at him. Those large, trusting eyes are more pronounced from this angle. Brighter, too. Unshakeable trust twinkles in a sky of dark irises. He thinks that he could plot the stars and the planets in those eyes. 

Luffy tilts his head and amends. “Like you take care of me?” 

Ace’s heart skips a beat. 

He takes a deep breath before he could lose it entirely. 

This kid. The toddler has a strong effect on him. Even the simplest sentences in Luffy Speak invokes profound, wonderful feelings that Ace didn’t know he had the capacity to feel. 

He and Sabo are trying their best to give Luffy what they didn’t have, experiences that they didn’t get as children — like being wanted. 

It’s fulfilling to hear that Luffy knows he is being cared for. 

“Y-Yeah, sorta.” His chest tightens under the weight of that innocent stare. “Well, this time she needs our help. Dadan needs our help because…” 

“Because she’s lonely,” Sabo assists, “Dadan needs someone to make her smile. Do you think that you could do that for us, Luffy?” 

It’s a clever move on Sabo’s part to play into their little brother’s desire to help, his personal mission to make people happy. A little ray of sunshine he is, eager to brighten everyone’s days. Magic. So far, none were immune to his enchantment. 

Luffy lets go of Ace to hold Sabo’s hand in both of his. All ten fingers can’t cover the wide expanse of his big brother’s palm. 

“But Sabo?” He whimpers. 

Ace places a hand on his head to settle him. “I’ll stay with Sabo and make sure he feels better.” 

The youngest considers his response while Ace sweeps his hair back. His small head bobs back and forth with the motion as if chasing his touch. After finishing his consideration, he nods. 

“Like me.” 

Ace doesn’t quite understand what he means by that. Sometimes, it takes clarifying questions to understand Luffy Speak. 

Sabo figures it out. “Right, like how Ace helped you feel better when you were sick.” 

His little brother beams up at him. 

Being the subject of that million-watt smile makes him fidget. His skin prickles as if it could feel the burn of that radiant light. 

He grimaces and looks away. “Anyways. You’re better at making people smile. That’s your superpower and Dadan needs your help. Could you help Dadan tomorrow?”

Luffy turns to the blanket pile again, gaze sweeping over Sabo’s form like he’s assessing his condition. 

Squeezing his hand, Sabo smiles at him encouragingly. 

The blond seems to have passed the toddler’s assessment because Luffy utters a small, “okay.”

Ace frowns mildly at his uncertainty. He pokes at a round cheek and at youthful pride.

“You sure you can do it?” 

Quickly, the toddler shouts. “I can do it!” 

“Hmm, really?” 

“Really, really!” 

Luffy pumps his fist in the air. He makes Ace proud. 

His little brother is amazing; unfathomably strong in his own way. Doubting his abilities only gives rise to a winning attitude. Confident and courageous, Luffy greets every day with a readiness to take on the world and conquer it too. 

(Ace loves him. So much.) 

“Alright. You said you’d do it. I better not hear any whining tomorrow, okay?” 

Luffy does end up complaining the next morning. 

It doesn’t help that Sabo’s locked him in for a cuddle and has no intentions of letting him go. To Ace’s detriment, the other has lost his reasons to keep his distance since falling ill and is now taking full advantage of it. He’s smothering the toddler as if he’s making up for the lack of closeness, but Ace knows that there was nothing lacking. If there was, they wouldn’t be in this situation. 

“Sa-bo, Sa-bo.” The child chants melodiously as he snuggles deeper into the embrace. “I’ll miss you!” 

“I’ll miss you too!” 

Disgusted, Ace rolls his eyes so far up that he fears it may get stuck on the ceiling. 

These two are acting as if they’ll never see each other again. He expected Sabo to be more mature about this considering how he’s the one most affected by the consequences of Luffy staying. But then again, Sabo is also the one most affected by Luffy leaving. 

It reminds Ace of how anxious and clingy the other got the first time they dropped the toddler off at Makino’s for a day. He was more anxious and clingier than the toddler himself, which Ace made plenty fun of him for. 

(Nevermind that Ace stayed close by just in case Luffy cried for him.) 

Tapping his foot impatiently on the floor, he calls out to them from his bedroom door. 

“Sabo, Luffy, come on. We need to leave.” 

“Ten minutes,” came the hoarse reply. 

It’s been ten minutes, thirty minutes ago. 

Ace has been lenient enough with the both of them since Sabo’s sick, which is saying a lot considering how he doesn’t have much patience to give. He’s had another crappy, sleepless night with his current charge needing medicine and a midnight meal to go with it. The sooner he drops Luffy off, the sooner Ace can come home and afford himself a brief nap. 

His foot taps once, loud and final. “We’re leaving.” 

“In ten minutes.” 

Worn and stretched thin, his patience snaps like a rubber band. 

“I can’t stand you like this!” It’s not as if Ace wants this either. The only reason why Luffy has to leave is because Sabo is sick and Sabo is sick because— “If you’d only listened to me the first time and hadn’t gotten too close, you wouldn’t be lying here so weak and pathetic!” 

That seems to do the trick. 

With a theatrical gasp, Sabo releases Luffy to put his face in his hands. The watery eyes and runny nose add credibility to his cheap charade.

His shoulders shake dramatically as he sobs. “Ace is being so mean to me.”

At the speed of lighting, Luffy squirms out of his arms and clambers down the bed to scamper over to him. His bulging backpack bounces up and down and nearly trips him along the way. 

“Don’t be mean to Sabo!” He pounds his fists at Ace’s side in a wild flurry. It hurts about as much as a kitten batting at him. “Be nice!” 

“Yes, yes.” 

Ace picks up the backpack and by proxy, the child hanging from it. He grasps the straps at arms length before Luffy could get a lucky strike at where it would actually hurt.

Swivelling the child to face away from the door, he flips Sabo off as a goodbye. 

He ignores the congested laughter as they leave. 

The first thing he does when he returns is flop face down onto the couch. 

Ace did not miss her. At all. 

Dadan was willing to hold up her end of the agreement though she complained incessantly. Ace can count on her to care for Luffy but that doesn’t mean that she enjoys it. 

She’s made it crystal clear that she does not and Ace tried to hide that he didn’t want to drop the toddler off in the first place. 

How could Ace forget her unsettling sort-of-guilty, sort-of-amused expression when he ordered her to drop the cigarettes around Luffy. 

At least, Luffy didn’t cry when he left. Ace has to count that as a win. 

Right when he’s about to celebrate the win with a well deserved nap, he hears Sabo whining from his room. Not one made from discomfort or complaint, but a true response to despair. 

He rushes over. His hand slams against the door frame in his hurry. 

Sabo is pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes and Ace panics. Flashes of hypothetical, dooming scenarios cross his mind. A high fever, an oncoming seizure, calling Marco or Deuce or even his grandfather in a frenzy. 

“What, what’s wrong?” He prods urgently. 

“I forgot to call in.” 

“Huh?”

“My shift. At work.” Sabo uncovers his eyes to look at him with defeat. “Didn’t tell them I was going to stay home.” 

Deflating against the doorframe, Ace sighs harshly with relief and annoyance. The dizzying vacillation between rest and hypervigilance exacerbates his headache.

He feels a bit defeated himself. 

Slumping further on the wood, he replies monotone. “Oh. Is that all.” 

The blond struggles to sit up. “What do you mean, ‘is that all?’” His demand breaks into stuttering coughs. 

“Already had it covered.” Ace hands him a glass of water and medicine. “I called your office to get your absence excused.” 

Sabo gives Ace a doubtful look while he drinks. Ace talks about his occurrence from work as if they were back in high school, getting each other’s absences excused by doing their best Dadan impression…he desperately hopes that Ace didn’t use his Dadan impression.

“How did you do that?” 

“Hacked your phone.” 

“What? But my password—”

“— is Luffy’s birthday.” Ace raises a brow. Sabo ducks his head, sheepish. He continues nonchalantly. “By the way, Koala said that she’ll drop off your schoolwork later. Make sure to say thank you.” 

Sabo shoots an odd expression at him. It’s reminiscent of the weird expression Dadan made at Ace with the second-hand smoke comment. 

“Don’t remind me about manners,” he chides, “I’m not a kid.” 

“Don’t act like one, then.” 

Ace knows that Sabo doesn’t like to be alone when he’s sick.

Hence, he’s not surprised that his current charge follows him to the living room. On one hand, it’s a good sign that he’s well enough to move himself. On the other, it was irritating. 

Misery loves company and right now misery was sprawled over his lap to annoy him. He tries his best to ignore the clinginess. There’s an instinctual, childhood impulse to fling him off that Ace represses. 

Sabo’s grown more touchy-feely since Luffy came into their lives. The child is almost always the source and outlet for physical affection. But since that child is not here, Ace will have to be a poor substitute. 

He’s jealous of how easily the blond falls asleep. Ace would join him like he direly wanted but someone needs to be awake to receive their expected company. 

A text notifies him of their guest’s arrival. 

“That’s her. Wake up. I have to get the door.” Ace shakes the other’s shoulder.

He doesn’t stir.

Sabo’s head is still burrowed to his stomach like he’s trying to use Ace’s shirt as an eye mask to block the light. The rise and fall of his chest is deep and steady, asleep. 

A strong temptation to push him off nearly wins over reluctant kindness. Nearly. 

Ace bites down on a complaint and calls her. 

Koala picks up. “Hi, I’m here.”

His tone is apologetic, mildly ashamed. “Hey, I can’t get the door right now. Sorry about that, could you leave his stuff outside?”

“Oh, no? That’s fine. Is it alright if I come in?”

He glances at the entrance. “Well, yes, but the door’s locked.”

Just then, the doorknob rattles. Slots click and turn in time to the doorknob’s rotations. It is fascinating in a horrifying way. 

Slowly lowering the phone from his ear, he is dumbfounded by what’s happening. “Koala? Are you… breaking in?”

“Silly, it’s not breaking in if you have permission.” The knob does a final jiggle. Koala enters gracefully. “And now I’m here! Hi, Ace!”

Mouth agape and at a loss for words, he stares at the tools she has in hand. A single bobby pin broken in two. For her, it is that easy.

He understands why Sabo’s scared of her. 

Also, he's vaguely worried about the security of their door. “Should I be concerned?”

She grins like she knows exactly where his thoughts are leading. 

“Not at all. I use my powers for good, I promise.” Koala takes a second to look at them and in a fluid motion, swings out her phone. “Aww. Stay still.”

“Wait, no.” Ace barely manages to cover his face in time for the click! He grumbles. “What’s with you guys taking pictures.”

“We’re aspiring journalists. We have to be quick.” She explains. Then she whistles at the screen. “Especially when it concerns blackmail material.”

He gasps, betrayed. “Koala!”

She may be Sabo’s best friend, but she is Ace’s best accomplice when it comes to poking fun at their mutual pain in the ass. Her efforts at their tag-team teasing shouldn’t apply to Ace. 

“Not against you, Ace! I’d say that this only adds to your glowing reputation.”

Warily, he asks. “Glowing?” 

Contrary to what she implied, it can’t be anything good.

If by ‘glowing’ she meant ‘in flames,’ then there’d be merit to that. Ace has done many pointless, devious, questionable deeds that he isn’t proud of and cannot defend. 

Mortifyingly, she coos at him. “I think you’re very sweet. It shows how doting you are on Luffy and Sabo.”

“Sweet?! Doting?!” He repeats, voice shrill with incredulity.

Him?!

He resents that. 

Sabo’s the one who would pull down the moon if Luffy wanted it. Sabo’s the one who loses his spine at a single teardrop from their little brother. 

Sabo’s the one who would do anything and everything for him if Ace didn’t reign in his madness. 

Ace doesn’t know what to say in reply so he changes the subject. “Can I offer you something? For the trouble.”

While he says that he looks down at the dead weight that prevents him from properly offering a token of gratitude. 

To anyone else, the other is deeply asleep. However, Ace is not anyone else. Upon further examination, he can tell that Sabo’s exhales are too forced and there’s a slight quiver to his lips. 

This bastard. 

Koala places the books and paperwork on the nearest table. 

“No worries. I’ll be taking this as payment for having to make up for his slack.”

She waves the phone at him. 

From afar, he can make out their high definition silhouettes on the couch. Hiding his face did nothing to conceal his identity. Even if it did, there’s an extremely small number of people that Sabo would be comfortable sleeping on. 

Only two. One of which is a child. 

Ace withers on the inside. 

“On Sabo’s behalf, I appreciate it and I apologize for the inconvenience.”

She giggles. “And so polite too, Ace. Is there anything else you need?”

“Nope, I got it from here.” He pats at Sabo’s shoulder. 

“I know you do.”

Once she exits and magnanimously locks the door for them too, Ace waits for the sound of her footsteps to recede. After it fades, the gentle patting turns into brutish swatting. 

“You. Asshole.” He growls. “If I’m going to go down for this, you’re coming with me.”

Dropping his pretenses of being asleep, Sabo sighs apathetically. Despite the harsh smacks to his shoulder, he continues to make himself comfortable on Ace’s lap, knowing that doing so would aggravate him more. 

“You’re on your own. Me? I’m sick and delirious. I can argue that I can’t be held accountable. But you? You’re sane and definitely doting on me. How are you going to deny that?”

Ace smacks him one more time in lieu of a retort. No, he doesn’t know how to refute that. Since he’s not a pushover, the other explanation is that he allowed this. 

Which he did.

He regrets not shoving him off. 

Sinking his face into his hands, Ace wonders what he’d have to do to bribe Koala into deleting that picture. He could suggest a trade. Ace has blackmail on Sabo too. Numerous pictures and videos. Most of it was of him making stupid faces at Luffy to make him laugh. There’d be plenty for her to choose from. 

He drops his head back to hang on the top of the couch. Staring dejectedly at the ceiling, he mumbles. “This is so embarrassing.”

For a while, Sabo doesn’t say anything. Ace thought he might have fallen back asleep if it weren’t for his nails digging into his back. He’s about to tell him off for that when Sabo finally replies. 

“What’s so embarrassing about taking care of me?”

Ace makes a dismissive sound that shifts into a groan. “I guess I don’t mind that but…”

‘Sweet.’ ‘Doting.’

Ace isn’t used to being described that way.

‘Shame’ and ‘Disappointment’ were more in line with what he’s heard growing up. The contrary is too foreign a concept that it must be a joke at his expense although he knows Koala’s not malicious like that.

Sabo buries his face into Ace’s shirt.

Slow and caustic, he mutters. “Yeah? You sure complain a lot for someone who doesn’t mind.”

The bitterness gives Ace pause. 

He must have stepped on a landmine. The rancor in Sabo’s tone is one that’s reserved for his wretched parents. 

From what Ace remembers of Sabo’s previous life, his parents didn’t take care of him as a person. They didn’t mind him at all. Worse, his parents passed him off to the help and the help treated him like an object, as if Sabo was just another fixture in the mansion to set straight. 

It’s why he’d been more withdrawn as a child; objects don’t have thoughts or feelings. 

Living with Ace, Sabo is surprisingly fussy when he’s sick. More than Luffy sometimes. But that’s because he trusted Ace to care for him as a person. 

Like how Ace trusted him to care for Luffy as family. 

And Sabo never complained about that. 

Ace sighs. 

His mind made up, his voice adopts an inflection that’s used whenever he wanted to get the other in trouble. Snitching, but not really, because neither Dadan nor Shitty Gramps were here to hear it and the person he’s tattling to is the same one he’s tattling on. 

Ace announces loudly through the empty apartment. 

“Ooh, Sabo wants to be spoiled!”

The exclamation precipitates a startled wheeze which ensues another coughing fit. 

His laughter drowns out the hacking noise. He thumps Sabo’s back through it which makes it more entertaining for him because the coughs stutter in varying pitches like a broken squeaky toy. 

“You—!”

Since he couldn’t speak properly, Sabo twists his shirt in a retaliatory grip. If he were well, it would be followed by a punch or a kick. 

Utterly composed, Ace waits. It isn't as if the other could stand a chance fighting him in this condition but he appreciated the attempt. 

Amused and endeared, he glides a hand through messy blond hair. His fingers sweep stray locks to the side to see his defiance more clearly. 

A fierce scowl meets him. Oh, Sabo looks livid. 

However the affront is betrayed by how his brow furrowed with poorly concealed want and how his chin jutted with obstinance. 

Ace is familiar with this expression.

Sabo wears the same face that Luffy makes when the toddler wanted something that Ace wouldn’t easily give.

He chuckles lightly, smoothing his thumb over a warm forehead. 

Then, Ace asks in a tone that’s gentle. One that he used for when Luffy is sad, and soft, like he did years ago, when Sabo came to him disowned. 

“You saying you want me to dote on you, Sab?” 

Sabo snarls at him. He turns away to curl up tighter around Ace’s stomach and it tickles when he burrows his face deeper into his shirt. From the depths of wrinkled fabric, he makes a muffled noise.

Ace leans over. “What’s that?”

Removing himself briefly, Sabo repeats, “I said, I hate you,” but doesn’t make an effort to remove himself from his position on Ace’s lap. 

Well, that certainly wasn’t a no. In Sabo Speak, it may be an emphatic yes. 

Ace laughs again. “I hate you too. That’s why I’ll spoil ya.”

Spoiling meant being careful. Which Ace isn’t usually. Especially not with Sabo. Sabo is made out of sterner and sturdier stuff. It’s why he’s been a constant in Ace’s life. He can handle the rough edges that Ace had and bore the brunt of it too. 

Nevertheless, Ace does try. 

He rubs circles over his back and alternates with rhythmic pats. Ace twiddles at his hair, stretching the curls out and letting go to watch them spring back into form.

Ace doesn’t actually know what he’s doing. 

His actions are guided by the muscle memory of when Luffy was sick only a couple days ago. 

It’s a little strange because Ace is conditioned to being careful with the baby and despite all of his teasing, Sabo isn’t one. 

But there are quiet noises of approval letting him know that he isn’t doing a terrible job. The coughs and the sniffles gradually fade into easy, tranquil breaths. 

His charge falls asleep quickly… not unlike a baby. 

Ace tries not to make his amusement known.

Like this, it is easy to doze even with Sabo snoring on his lap.

No disasters to prevent.

No messes to clean up after.

No fussing at the moment either. 

The pull of sleep is strong but the weight of responsibility is heavier. While Ace manages a half sleep state, he’s still aware of his surroundings. 

Just in case he’s needed. 

Ace catches himself tripping into deeper sleep and immediately jerks upright. His heart races with alarm because who knows what else might have happened while he wasn’t paying attention. 

In a minor fright, he checks on Sabo. Still sleeping. Still safe from Luffy. 

In a moderate fright, he swings his head around to look for the child and remembers that Luffy’s still with Dadan. Still safe with her, surrounded by many watchful eyes. 

Shit, what time is it—

He looks at the clock.

The clock berates him for sleeping. Its ticking sounds like tutting and makes Ace antsy. 

Thankfully he didn’t sleep through the agreed upon time but he will be late if he doesn’t leave now. 

He shakes the figure on his lap with more agitation and urgency than he intended. 

“Sabo, wake up.”

“Noo,” Sabo whines and latches his fingers into Ace’s shirt again. “I’m comfortable for once.”

“Come on, you’ve had your nap. I’m getting Luffy back from Dadan’s.”

“Can’t they drop him off?”

“No,” he states firmly, “that was the deal, I pick him up.”

Like glue, the other is still stuck to him. 

Taking a different approach, he pets Sabo’s hair while he scolds him. If the other is going to act like a child, then he’ll speak to him as if he were one. 

Patronizing, is what this is to an adult. 

“Sabo, you know we don’t like it when the baby is away for too long. I am picking him up.” 

His approach backfires. To his consternation, Sabo enjoys his condescension and becomes more unwilling to move. 

“…ten more minutes,” he sighs.

His eye twitches. They are not doing this again. 

“I need to go now.”

“In ten minutes.”

Ace drops the act and hisses, “I can’t stand you like this!”

“But what are you gonna do about it—“ He stands up and Sabo tumbles off the couch with a loud thud. “—ow, fuck!”

“Oh, no.” Exclaims Ace. His tone is flat with fake pity. “You fell and you can’t get up.”

He ignores the curses directed at him and steps over the blond’s sprawled form to get his stuff together. 

An agreement was an agreement.

The last thing Ace wanted was for their grandpa to call and demand why he abandoned his ‘responsibility.’ 

Ace wasn't like him. He wouldn’t abandon Luffy at a drop of a hat.

It was only for half a day.

That doesn’t count as abandonment. 

His little brother knew he was coming back. 

Luffy knew that, right? 

Dadan hasn’t called him once to bitch at him for whatever Luffy was doing to piss her off. The eldest did mean to call and check on him but he’d been caught up attending to Sabo. 

And then, he fell asleep. 

And now, he’s about to be late. 

There’s a painful echo in his head that rides the waves of his migraine. A heart wrenching wail of an infant desperately crying for him. 

He hurries his pace. 

Out of sight from the living room, he could hear Sabo struggling to rise. 

A pitiful voice calls for him. 

“Ace…?”

He breathes deeply through his nose. In the middle of mulling over the repercussions of leaving the other on the floor, that pitiful, sorrowful voice calls for him again. 

Smacking a hand against his face, he huffs a sharp, “what.”

“…I can’t get up.”

Pitiful, hopeless, helpless idiot. 

Ace walks to the couch and hovers over Sabo. He would find this hilarious if he weren’t pressed to leave. 

But that face had no right to be so pathetic that Ace is forced to lift him from the floor to set him back on the couch. If only to be kind and preserve what’s left of Sabo’s dignity. 

“Stay right here, dummy.” He mumbles, censoring himself even though he doesn’t have to yet. “I’ll be back.”

Before he leaves, he arranges the makeshift bedding, adjusts the pillow, and untangles the blankets that fell on the floor. He glances at the coffee table to see if the water’s filled and if the medicine is in short reach. 

Sweet and doting, Ace thinks to himself with much disdain. 

His charge clings to his shirt as he goes to pull away. 

“Ace?”

Perhaps it was the exhaustion, or the motions of tucking him in, or the needy, sad eyes looking his way that compelled Ace to comfort his baby brother with a kiss on the forehead. 

Except, Luffy’s still at Dadan’s. 

Silver and blue eyes pop open. 

The colors contrast with their scarlet faces. Ace, with deep humiliation, and Sabo, with mild fever growing into confused embarrassment. 

How unfortunate that Sabo wasn’t near delirious enough for Ace to blame it on a fever dream.

“Uhh…?”

Sabo reaches for the tingling spot between his brows as if he could hold the fluttering warmth in his hand. 

Ace grabs a stray cushion and pushes it down on his head. 

“Just checking to see if you have a fever! You still do, so go back to sleep!” Ace yells, too frantic and too eager to suffocate the other into forgetting. 

He makes sure that he’s out the door by the time Sabo gets enough air to remove the cushion from his face. 

After everything, neither Ace nor Sabo had to suffer through Disaster #3. 

Because Dadan did. 

For them, she insisted. 

What a noble, incredible sacrifice. 

Yes, when they asked Luffy to help Dadan smile they knew the toddler would do it. But the ambition of which he did was exactly the catastrophe that she predicted. 

Ace wasn’t there for it but Dadan made sure to make it his problem as if he were. Her yelling at him did not help his migraine and him asking her for help did not feel worth it in the long run.

Ace doesn’t know why he bothered.

He is reminded why he doesn’t ask for help. 

It makes him feel inadequate and incapable. 

(It makes him feel like he’s nothing but a burden.

Adequate, capable people wouldn’t be called a burden.)

Ace droops against the door, the last of his energy reserves drained. He presses his fingers against his eyes. The sparks behind his eyelids are like blinding fireworks.

Another blinding figure lights up their apartment with his sunshine cheer. 

With arms like plane wings, Luffy zooms over to his sick brother with a giant grin.

“Sabo! I’m home!”

“Lu,” Sabo greets warmly. He appears to be in better spirits. “Welcome home. Did you have fun?”

Luffy scrambles up the couch to perch on top of him. 

He giggles. “Missed you!”

“I missed you too.” 

Immediately, the toddler crawls down to rummage through his overly filled backpack. The extraneous contents spill out of the sides and clatter on the floor. 

“This is for you. From shouty lady.”

Ace watches listlessly as Luffy tries to balance an orange on Sabo’s head. Oranges. One, two, three, precariously stacked and surprisingly steady. He’s too exhausted to be impressed and too drained to tell him not to play with food. 

He is waiting for the oranges to topple over just so he could clean all of the mess in one go. 

As the oranges fall, so do his eyelids. 

It’s gone dark once more.

He’s still clinging on to awareness. Luffy and Sabo’s voices persuade him to stay awake. Now that Luffy’s home, he needs to.

Luffy is excitedly telling Sabo about his personal mission to make Dadan smile, a curious recount of events that drastically contradicted Dadan’s griping from earlier. 

“Oh and this! I made this.”

Another rummage through the backpack. More crap spilling out. A rustle of paper. 

Whatever ‘this’ is causes Sabo to pause. 

He says in that disgusting, mushy voice of his. “This is… really nice, Luffy. Show Ace, see what he thinks of it.” 

Needed once more, Ace wills himself to fall slowly into a crouch to properly be handed the page. 

‘This’ is a scribble of multicolored shapes and uneven faces. Ace assumes a blue rectangle to be Sabo and a small red circle to be Luffy. 

There’s an orange square in the middle with lines at the sides connecting the other shapes. It looked very angry but the mouth of it was curved up. 

Underneath is legible handwriting that suspiciously looks like Dadan’s:

‘THANK YOU’

His little brother beams up at him, awaiting a shower of praise. When he doesn’t receive it immediately, he explains as if Ace doesn’t understand, with the same patience as the big brothers would. 

A tiny finger pokes at the smile on the orange square. 

“You take care of me and Sabo.” 

Luffy proceeds to point and explain the shapes, the details of which couldn’t be discerned by a grown up’s perspective. He squeals with delight when he’s pulled into a big hug. 

Ace’s eyes sting from the lack of sleep and not at all from anything else. 

Sabo is smiling at him from the couch, still wearing that dumb, mushy expression of his. 

Luffy makes a happy sigh as he nuzzles his cheek against his shoulder. 

He holds him tighter. Ace has all the time in the world to sleep later. Moments like these deserve to be cherished. 

Taking care of two brats was tough but it is fulfilling.