imagine marco and Shanks hanging out
Shanks looks around and wonders, for just a moment, if this is how the Roger Pirates would have been after their captain’s execution if they had been together, if the captain hadn't disbanded the crew a year before turning himself in. Considering how devastated Shanks himself had been, and how he knows Rayleigh still can’t think about it without being affected, the answer is most likely yes.
Shanks hates to see people suffer, and the Whitebeard Pirates may have been his enemies (maybe they still are, who knows how things will go from now on), but they have always been an honorable enemy, one of the best he has ever faced. Whenever he met with Whitebeard, it was equally possible they ended up drinking together than fighting. But Shanks knows there is only so much he can do to help them. His crew is assisting with the preparations for the funeral, because it doesn't seem fair to make the Whitebeard Pirates bear all the weight of it on top of everything else, and they make a point of keeping an eye on people, but that is about it.
It's the part about keeping an eye on people that has Shanks out here now, walking to an isolated area of the deck of one of the mini Moby Dicks at an hour when he would normally be about to pass out ass-drunk. An area where nobody seems to come because there’s nothing close by, no doors into hallways, storage rooms or anything.
"Stargazing?" Shanks asks cheerfully, though he knows that is not the answer. He also knows that if he tries to broach a serious topic he'll be left alone before he can get two sentences in.
"It's too overcast for that," Marco answers distractedly, looking up at the sky anyway.
Shanks leaves the bag he's been carrying on the floor, sits next to Marco, and not so casually draps an arm around Marco’s shoulders.
"You know you'll have to let it out at some point, don't you?"
Marco looks sideways at him, and Shanks gives him his most serious face. Even if his eyes don't dart around, Shanks knows Marco is gauging the chances he has of just leaving. Not many, with Shanks as he is in his personal space and ready to act. It would turn into a fight, and they both know it. A long fight, because they’re strong, and Shanks would have time to say what he wants to anyway.
Finally, Marco sighs and his shoulders droop.
"I know, but it can wait," Marco says, and Shanks doesn't need him to elaborate. Many people, in these circcumstances, would escape to an isolated area to let their emotions out, but Marco is here to compose himself after another exhausting day. Like he has been doing every single night since they left Marineford: Shanks has been observing him.
"I'm not sure it should, it can't be healthy."
Marco gives him a raised eyebrow, a gesture that clearly says Shanks is no one to talk about healthy habits. Maybe not, but what he is, is an expert at ignoring that kind of gesture.
"It's not like it'd affect me anyway," Marco answers, and there goes Shanks' argument. Damn mythical zoan powers.
"I could always handcuff you and we'd see-" Shanks starts, half joking, and is about to add that maybe Marco would sleep that way, too, because it hasn't gone unnoticed that Marco hasn't slept at all, but cuts himself off. Marco's shoulders have gone stiff under his arm. Shanks waits, but Marco doesn't move or speak. "...Marco?"
Marco sags suddenly, head bent low, and takes in a shuddering breath. Shanks doesn't know how, but he thinks he has somehow slipped past those walls Marco has been keeping up. Marco's next words confirm it.
"It's my fault Ace is dead."
Shanks may not know many details of what happened at Marineford before his arrival, but he knows that is not true.
"It's not your fault. The only ones to blame for that are Akainu and Blackbeard," he says, which is the truth as far as anyone is concerned.
"No. I could have stopped that attack. I did, the second time, when he aimed it at Ace and Strawhat, but I was an idiot, got distracted and Onigumo managed to handcuff me with kairoseki."
That explains Marco's earlier reaction.
What a way to put your foot in your mouth, genius, Shanks thinks to himself. Of all the possible comments he could make...
"That's not your fault, either," Shanks assures him, because he doesn't need to have been there to know Marco had a damn good reason to be distracted.
Marco chuckles, and it's a bitter sound Shanks doesn't like at all.
"I didn't really try to get them off, you know. Not until things started to go really bad, when Akainu baited Ace into a fight. Too late."
Shanks doesn't comment, because he thinks if Marco didn't try to get them off was because he was more worried about saving Ace, and then getting out of there as soon as possible, but he knows Marco doesn't see it that way.
"And then I didn't help Pops."
"I saw that part of the broadcast, he ordered you to stay back." For that, Shanks has come with the answer ready, because he expected it to come up.
"Yeah, but he'd already given his final captain's order. I didn't have to obey him."
"He was more than your captain," Shanks whispers, and pretends he doesn't notice the slight tremor start on Marco's shoulders. Good. Maybe Marco isn't going to start screaming or breaking things, but at least he is getting some emotions out of his chest.
It's not good to bottle so much up.
Speaking of bottles, Shanks reaches for the bag he's brought and pulls a bottle out, handing it over to Marco.
"I can't get drunk," Marco says, not making any move to accept it.
"Really? That rumor is true? Guess there's a downside to that power of yours." This time he manages to prompt a slightly less bitter chuckle out of Marco. Shanks grins and waves the bottle. "But I want to see if I can beat your powers here. If anybody can, that's me."
Marco finally lifts his head to look at him. There are fresh tear tracks on his cheeks, but Shanks ignores them and wiggles his eyebrows.
"Come on, I brought all the strong stuff from my ship," he insists.
"And it hasn’t exploded? That's a miracle," he says, giving the bag a dubious look.
But he takes the bottle and opens it, downing half the contents in one go as if to prove that he can take even Shanks' deadliest drinks. There is that raised eyebrow again, which seems to say 'this is the best you can do?'
Grinning, Shanks reaches for a bottle for himself.
He doesn't manage to get Marco drunk, but they spend a good couple of hours between not as loaded silences and small talk about silly places, and Shanks finally convinces Marco to sleep. By that point he is so drunk, however, that by sleeping Shanks means just dropping back where they are while he plays pillow.
The next morning they are found sprawled on the floorboards, and Shanks has one of the worst hangovers he has ever experienced. That gets him a lot of teasing, even from some of the Whitebeard Pirates, but Marco brings a ton of water, coffee and food to the dark corner Shanks has sequestered himself in to avoid the sun and quietly thanks him, so it's worth it.
They will be okay. It will take time and a hard recovery, but the Whitebeard Pirates will pull through this.
