Sup!
So, I decided to create my own dumping ground for drabbles. Not beta'ed. This one here was inspired by a movie Little Big Soldier.
Rating: K+/T
Song of the drabble: Not Gonna Die by Skillet
Disclaimer: nope, not mine. Valid for all future chapters of this drabble gathering.

Marco was running as fast as he could in the forest terrain. At the moment he wasn't as fast as he would normally run for his life, maybe because he had an arrow in his right thigh, his left shoulder and slightly below his left scapula. The archers were damn good, a little better and he'd be dead meat. He had to admit - this time Akainu outdid himself, setting up an ambush so skilfully that Marco noticed it only last minute. That resulted in death of the whole escort he had with him, leaving only him alive. He was instantly reminded that the archers still had time to correct that when another arrow hit its mark, this time it was his right shoulder. Marco stumbled forward, fell though the bushes in front of him and rolled down a steep slope hidden by the very same bushes.

The roll down was dizzying, fast and extremely painful. The arrows that hit him all broke off and got pushed in deeper into his body. The one beneath his left scapula must have pierced his lung because when his fall was abruptly stopped, he started coughing; familiar taste of blood on his tongue. Knowing that he couldn't rest, Marco tried to get up but something pushed him back down and a voice said:

"Stay down."

There was no way that he'd listen to whoever said, so he tried to crawl despite his vision going black. Something pressed into the small of his back and the same voice said again:

"Stay down."

"Hey! Who are you!" another voice yelled that Marco recognised as the leader of the ambush. His vision cleared a little and he saw a part of a dark leather boot. "Hold him there in the name of General Akainu!"

"How many are they?" the owner of the boot asked in a slightly lower voice, making Marco think that the owner of the boot, who he now undoubtedly recognised as a male, was talking to him.

"Eight..." Marco wheezed, coughing up more blood.

"Eight men, on horses, pursuing a poor cousin of mine for their own entertainment, how awful..." the man said mockingly, followed by a sound that Marco recognised as drawing of a bowstring. "Of course I have to protect my relative from those bandits... And there is number eight, perfect."

Marco lay there confused – for a moment he even forgot about his pain, trying to figure out what this man was talking about because Marco was definitely sure that he didn't have any relatives in this part of the country. Then came 'twangs', one after another in quick succession. He counted eight 'twangs' before the owner of the boot said to him in a normal voice:

"Stay here... although who am I talking to, you won't be able move, much less get up and go somewhere by the looks of you," the voice was sounding a little smug. Despite how much it irked Marco, he knew that the voice was right – he had trouble breathing and seeing, he wasn't about to trot off anywhere.

So he lay there, trying to breathe normally and wondering what the man who, most probably, just saved his life was doing. By the time the man came back, Marco didn't have any strength left to protest when the stranger carefully bound his hands together. For a moment he was worried, but then the man moved him, lifting his arms to put them around the stranger's neck and Marco realised that he would have moved a semi-conscious body the same way. He was barely registering what was happening to him because of the pain, he tried to ignore it and concentrate on his breathing.

"We can't go into the village until it gets dark. If you were pursued by Akainu's men, it's only a matter of time before they catch up to what happened," the stranger huffed under Marco's weight. "You have a name, mysterious person?"

"M-marco," he wheezed, figuring that the situation couldn't possibly get worse.

"Marco it is then. Nice to meet you, I'm Ace," the man introduced himself. "Listen up, Marco, here's what we're going to do. You hang on tight, do your best to survive until nightfall and I'll do what I can to keep you alive until we can get into the village."

"W-why..."

"Why what? Why I helped you? Well, I don't really care about you but if Akainu wants you dead I will do anything in my power to keep you alive," Ace responded, adjusting his hold on Marco. "I killed his men because of you so you better don't die on me. I'm not willing to put my life on the line for nothing."

"T-that... wh-whould... be... un... for... tu... nate..."

"Still have your sense of humour? Impressive," Ace said with amusement; Marco found that the stranger's voice distracted him from the pain so he needed somehow to keep the man talking.

"Wh... why... you... here?"

"I was hunting. Only this time the catch of the day isn't going to end up on the table... Well, not as food anyway," the man stopped talking for a moment to climb up a rocky ledge. "I would ask you why he wants you dead but that's none of my business, unless you'd like to share?" Ace continued walking, seemingly not tired at all.

"Later..." Marco wheezed, knowing that if the man was going to see to his injuries, he'll know the reason soon enough.

"Alright. Does my talking annoy you?"

"No... k-keep..."

"Alright. You had your chance to say 'shut up' to me, now you'll have to listen to my rabble. Maybe it's a good thing – you'll get so annoyed at me that you'll want to shut me up yourself so you'll stay alive just to do that. Hm, you know, this isn't very different from how I usually am - I talk a lot to myself so you don't need to answer, just grunt or something from time to time so that I'd know you're still alive."

Marco coughed both as a sign that he was still alive and instead of a laugh. Who knew he'd be so lucky?

Damn, why can't I come up with an original plot by myself? I just keep getting 'inspirations' and doing interpretations...

Thanks for reading another 'inspired by something' something.

~Rhe.