Disclaimer: One Piece belongs to Oda-sensei.

Warning: first attempt at One piece fan fiction, Set after Summit War (the war of the best, Marineford arc, or whatever you called it), OOC (maybe), not-so-good grammar, language, swearing, mention of PTSD (?), T for depressing theme, some short of AU, Dead!Luffy, Guilty!Ace.

.Sleepless.

Ace is sleeping.

No, not really, he never really sleeps these days. Always half awake, he lays in his commander's cabin in Moby Dick, as if he was expecting an attack to come every second despite being in one of the most secure place in the world (not that being pirate is safe, it's always dangerous, but when you're in the same ship with some of the strongest men and women in the sea you tended to believe you are, until you are not.) In these sleepless days, unconsciousness is a heaven where he can forget about everything that happens in his chaotic life. A peace that he found when he drifted in the darkness of Exhaustion Sea.

His narcoleptic behavior is always a trouble, but now it's getting worse. Not that he can sleep fully, but when it comes, when he let his eyes being lidded even just for a second, his vision is filled with them, the cheerful laugh, the face-splitting grin, the jokes, the cuddling, the spar they always had, and then the flames, the scent of burning skin, the blood, the death, the promise—

And he wakes up, body sweating and cheeks damp, shaking and screaming—And Oh, God, he's alone, and his room is dark, dark, dark just like his life now, just like his life before he meets them, always being plagued by the question of whether he deserve to live or not, of whether his existence is a curse—

And now he gets it, he fucking gets it because every night is sleepless with nightmare because his subconscious-self is a bitch who wants him to die drowning with regret and agony and guilt. He fucking gets it because even in his consciousness he can see them leaving, dying, their last words echoing in his ears, and blood, and God, God, there's blood in his hands because his little brother had died in his arms—

So he run, he run to the bathroom and wash his hands, but the stains wont disappears and he puke. He puke because he is disgusted with himself, because he is the worst brother in the world, the worst man ever walk on earth, because for him to lives means sacrificing so many other people he loved, and two of his most loved ones. And he sees his hands again only to be greeted by the ever-mocking crimson blood stains, so he start to scrubs it again, harder and harder because the color it's persistent, and it get worse, he sees more blood, he sees it dripping from his hands, he sees the water turning color into red more, and even after some minutes had passed the water is still turning crimson so he scrubs harder—

Then there are hands, stopping him. It's calloused and strong and rough but it stops him in such a carefulness and softness way, like he will be shattered with even the slightest pressure. And then again, maybe he would. And this hands, definitely not Luffy's or Sabo's because Luffy's hands is not this size and is far too elastic and always stretching (He's a rubber!) and because Sabo's hand doesn't get a chance to grow this big or strong, because he left and asking Ace to take care of their baby brother and he failed.

He failed him, he failed them, he failed himself.

"Ace." The voice is not unfamiliar, it's deep, and authorizing, but it's soft and demanding his attention, pleading his attention. But he's still have to erase the crimson on his hands because—

"Stop." The hands squeezing harder, the voice is a little bit harsher, and more desperately pleading.

And he realizes its Marco, again, his 'older brother' in this ship. And then he's being guided back to his room, to sit on his bed, with the first commander beside him, and sometimes at the doorstep there would be Izo, or Vista, or Haruta or—

And he just stared blankly at the ceiling or at the floor, or whatever interests him best. Not even acknowledging the others presence because he's not worth enough to be graced with a simple company of other human being.

Because he's tainted.

Sometimes he would wonder why Whitebeard (No, not Pops, he doesn't deserve to call the man with that title again.) hadn't throw him off the ship yet, because Ace hadn't even done anything useful for the man ever since his feet lands on this ship after the Summit Wa—perhaps it's pity, perhaps it's indifferent decision of his, or perhaps he doesn't even know Ace was in his ship this entire time. (Tough the last one seems impossible because he always cause a ruckus every night and even days, more reason to kick him off.)

And he fucking gets it, that he don't deserve to live, because living in his brother's place is just wrong, because his brothers is dead and he's alive. He fucking gets it that his live is a curse to the world, to himself , because that's must be why the hell God takes Luffy from him, because that's must be why God saves Sabo away from his cursed lives first. He fucking gets it that he's not supposed to exist because—

"It should've been me."

'...The one who died there.'

...

Okay. I know it's been done in so much times, but I just want to share this after some short of more than 6 month Writer's Block, so~ yea~.

Also I wrote this after I read the Fanfic: Inconvenient Truth by Destiny's-Perfection. So... please excuse me if you finding this... thing is sort of like stole his/her ideas, i don't intended to do so, even if I'm inspired by that fic.

And when Ace wash his hands... it, become raw from all the scrubbing so.. It bleeds...

And I was planning to make it becomes three or four one-shots, but only if you guys wants it, if not, well I can just always let this become an one-shot can't I? So, can spare me 30 second of your lives by dumping some kind words in review box for me? Pretty please?

Yes.

RnR please.

Ps. In case you can't tell, I'm writing in now and habitual event, so it's sort of the mix of Ace's and third person POV. Eh? Weird? Well... if you say so...