Eyes alight with flames, a hand wreathed in fire, a voice booming and desperate - the last things you had seen before your body had hit the ocean waves.

"The rough storm had ripped you off the deck of the Moby, you don't have a devil fruit, but the ship was massive, and you aren't. Even with your haki protecting you, you hit the water so hard it had knocked you unconscious.

"Even with the storm raging, members of the crew had dove off the ship to find you. I got held back, but someone like me diving into the water wouldn't have helped.

"You were in the water... a long time. Thatch couldn't find a pulse when he surfaced with you, couldn't get you to breathe. Pops had used his own devil fruit to banish the storm, and the entire crew had turned toward you. Izou had performed CPR until you hacked up half the ocean and started breathing on your own. He cracked three ribs in the process, and no one knew how hurt you were before that.

"Marco didn't sleep for almost three days. Even with Me an' Thatch an' Izou helping him, he couldn't barely find fitful naps, let alone any useful sleep. He kept abusing his devil fruit to keep himself sharp, until Pops' laid him out and forced him to rest yesterday."

A cheerful young man sat beside your bed, clumsily peeling apples for you. When you'd asked him what happened he hadn't held back. He didn't look or feel threatening, and the warmth that radiated from him was comfortable.

"Thatch and Izou got some sleep once you were stable, and it was my turn to watch over you, so here we are." He hands over the plate of apple slices, and you happily begin to nibble on one. You're pretty sure you shouldn't eat after four days of being in a coma, but you're too hungry to let good sense stop you.

"How do you feel?"

"... Sore," you answer softly, taking another small bite. "Hungry." Your brow furrows, and you set the apple slice you were working on down. "Confused."

"Confused about?" He questions, tilting his head.

You are quiet for a long moment, but he gives you plenty of time to sort your thoughts before you reply.

"I don't... know any of those names." You admit, frustration on your face. You're not looking at him, but you can see his body jerk. "I don't..." Your voice shifts from frustration and becomes small, tears pulling at the corners of your eyes. "Remember you."

"You - Ah, it's okay." He responds. You look up and can tell the smile on his face is strained, but he's trying to look cheerful. "Marco... um, he's the ship's doctor, he said that you might not remember things when you woke up." He puts a hand to his chest. "I'm Ace, we're... we're crew mates, you're part of the Whitebeard Pirates. You joined before me, so Thatch or Izou or Marco would be able to fill you in better than me."

"Ace." You say the name and watch his face twist in an odd emotion. "Thatch pulled me out of the sea, and Izou cracked my ribs."

"To save you, to save you!" Ace adds quickly. "Izou has amazing control, and Marco was busy getting the sick bay ready in case he needed to do something more complicated to save you."

"... I caused distress. I'm sorry." You say it firmly, eyes downcast.

"Bwha- what? No, I mean, yeah, but... er... you don't hafta apologize for it." He assures you. "People were worried cause they care."

"That's -."

"Ah, little miss negative is back." A voice says from the doorway, you and Ace turn and look and Ace nods toward the tall dark-haired man.

"Izou."

"You helped save me, thank you." You bow slightly from your position in the bed, wincing against unexpected pain.

"Think nothing of it," Izou replies, stepping into the room. He moves the apple slices away from you and gently pushes you by your shoulders until you're laying down again. "If Marco comes in and you're sitting up and eating, he'll toss all of us into the sea."

"I was hungry."

"She was hungry."

You and Ace speak up at the same time and Izou gives you a withering look. "Of course she's hungry, she's been in a coma for almost four days." He snaps. "But food on a stomach that empty can come right back up. You don't have the strength to vomit.

"Ace, go wake up Marco and Thatch. Tell that big oaf to make the best bone stock he can, but you come back with broth from yesterday's soup. Clear, Ace. Clear broth." Izou reiterates as the freckled youth takes off.

Izou sits in the chair Ace had been using.

"When you first joined you were like this." He begins. His voice is full of warmth, like Ace's, but different. Muted comparatively, but just as comforting. "So was I. Worried about the etiquette of a world that doesn't matter here. Feeling like a stranger when I was surrounded by a family I never knew I needed."

He adjusts how he's sitting a little, the soft shifting of silk almost makes your heart ache. It's a sound that slips through your body and tightens around your bones. You can't remember why right now, but the emotion is undeniable.

"You adjusted faster than I did." He continues on. "Danced right into everyone's heart so quickly it was almost concerning. Admittedly, you danced more forcefully into some hearts than others, and created a kind of family within the family."

Silent tears slip down your cheeks and Izou brushes the away with warm and tender fingers.

"Shh, shh, it's okay. You'll remember. I have faith, pretty flower." He assures you. "If you don't, then it will be what it will be, and we'll be happy that you're still here."

A soft knock at the door interrupts your thoughts and Izou speaks up for them to enter. A tall man steps inside, button up shirt open and tattoo on his chest visible. He has blonde hair, and there are deep circles under his eyes, but his entire demeanor brightens when he sees you're awake.

"There she is." He says warmly. You look from him to Izou and he points back toward him.

"Marco, our resident doctor." He clarifies.

"Pineapple." You say, before covering your mouth and turning away. There's a moment of silence before the two lose their battle against the laughs bubbling up in them and your mortification changes to an odd embarrassment.

"Progress." Izou says, stepping out of the way as Marco came to your bedside.

"I'll take it," Marco says. "Pardon me, I need to check your vitals." He explains and you look back toward him and nod.

He checks your pulse, your reaction to a light in your eyes, temperature, listens to your heart, and presses and prods and few places asking if anything hurts. He asks you a few questions, and while you can remember your name, you don't seem to be able to answer any of the other questions.

The soft smile on his face and the even cadence of his voice don't change regardless of your answers, and there's comfort in it. The two of them bring in a couple more chairs, and assure you that if you want to be left alone you only need ask, but if you can deal with them, there are at least four crew members who will want to visit with you while you have some broth.

Marco and Izou get you repositioned so you can sit up easily, and they get a tray for the bed. The two seem content to sit quietly with you for the couple moments it takes for Ace to return. There's another man with him, tallest of the lot, though not by much, with an impressive pompadour hair style.

Both of them have a bowl of steaming broth in their hands.

"One clear," the new comer says, "One with finely ground ginger." He explains to Marco. "Ginger usually helps settle stomachs, so I wanted you to have a choice."

Marco nods. "A couple spoonfuls won't hurt, yoi. But mostly clear to be safe." He decides and they shuffle things around a little before setting a bowl in front of you.

"Clear soup to help clear your head." The big man says as he hands you a spoon.

"Her head's already clear, Thatch," Ace snaps at him. "That's the problem."

"Maybe it's foggy instead you little wretch. The soup will help." Thatch retorts, irritation on his face even as he's trying to keep his composure.

"It's hot meat juice, not medicine." Ace grumbles.

"Broth is-." Marco starts, but his eyes catch yours and he pauses. The air in the room freezes and you can feel everyone looking at you, but your caught in your own thoughts.

Spoon in your mouth, warm broth down your throat, something about the conversation has tears running down your face. You're not upset, but you can't stop the tears. You move, enough to have another spoonful of broth despite your crying. There's something about the actions and the taste that compel you.

"It was... terrible." You mutter, spooning another bit of broth into your mouth as a smile pulled at your lips for the first time since you woke. "I... I tried to make broth and it was awful." You set the spoon down and wipe away persistent tears that continue to fall despite your efforts.

"Thatch was sick, and I wanted to help." You continue through your quiet tears. Sniffling softly you smile. "I'd never cooked before, and it was just so bad."

Thatch flinches as the other three look at him. "I insisted otherwise," he asserts.

You laugh a little, there's more mirth and energy in it, and the tears are subsiding. "You did. I had some when I got back to the kitchen and poured the rest of it out. It was," you start laughing despite yourself. "So bad."

Looking over at the others you can feel your face heating up. "I confessed after that."

"To making bad broth?" Ace questions, tilting his head. Marco smacks the back of his head.

You shake your head, and Thatch speaks up for you. "She admitted to likin' me, but also to likin'," he makes quotes in the air for the next few words. "A couple other people too, and thought it was wrong to like her crew mates like that."

"Turned out the other people she liked were already in a relationship with Thatch," Izou teases, cocky grin on his lips as he brushes his hand across your cheek, wiping away an errant tear. "You remember us, sweet flower?"

You nod. "Magic soup." You say, which is what Thatch had called the abomination you'd fed him all those years ago.