Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

            One week, seven days, 10,080 minutes and the pain in his chest has yet to go away. Physically he is fine. He’s dragged several doctors into their hotel room to prove that. But still, here he is, unable to pull himself from this bed. Unable to eat more then a bite of food a day. Unable to even hurl the smallest of insults and threats to the hotel manager when he comes banging on the door demanding payment or to vacate the room. Daz Bones is the only reason he’s been able to save face from the public, but even he’s growing restless now wondering how Crocodile can be in such a state. Whenever he does ask when they will be leaving, all Crocodile can manage is “I’m tired.”

            Sengoku’s announcement of Dragon’s son is still fresh in his mind. He pulls the covers over his head as if that could stop the memory from replaying over and over again. It doesn’t of course. After a moment of hiding his face, he pulls the sheet down and sits up. Daz side-eyes him from the edge of his own bed, silently wondering if his old boss has finally pulled himself together. Crocodile glances at his reflection in the window, barely recognizing the face staring back. He touches the scarred skin just under the dark circles that have formed under his eyes. There seems to be more wrinkles then usual and with his hair in complete disarray he looks like a mad old man. The announcement trills in his ears again. He closes his eyes until it passes.

            “Enough,” he says, but if it’s to himself or to the memory, even he doesn’t know. He turns away from his reflection and swings his legs over the side of the bed. The floorboards are cool under his bare feet and creaks from his weight as he crosses the space to the washroom. He distracts his thoughts with the routine process of showering. He slicks his hair back, leaving one strand to fall down the side of his face and lets himself go in his familiar grooming patterns. After freshening up, his reflection already looks better. More normal. The dark circles under his eyes are still there but there’s nothing he can do about that now. He starts to reach for the door when the image of that kid screaming next to Portgas D. Ace’s body pierces his mind. He freezes, the familiar ache that has plagued him for the past week throbbing in his chest. Then, a new cry. A single cry from his past brings him to his knees. He lifts his trembling hand and left arm to cover his ears. Desperate to block out that single cry.

            Images from his past flash behind his eyes. Wincing at every memory he grits his teeth trying to will the thoughts away. He must have made to much noise because Daz knocks on the washroom door.

            “Should I send for another doctor?” there’s a small hint of annoyance in his voice. Crocodile can’t blame him. It’s not like they’re friends or anything and he hasn’t been acting like his usual self lately. Crocodile steadies his breathing and ignores the pounding in his chest. With shaky legs he gets to his feet, attempting to collect himself. When the trembling ebbs away, he opens the door and steps out.

            “There’s something I have to do before we head out to the New World.” He says while pulling on clothes. Daz says nothing but crosses over to help with any buttons and laces. Once Crocodile is dressed, he turns to Daz, directly looking at him for the first time in a week. “While I do this, I have a condition. You cannot ask me any questions or ask why we are doing what we are about to do.”

            Daz stares, expression never changing before finally saying, “Fine.”

            Crocodile pulls a cigar out of his coat pocket. Daz lights it, a familiar action that they both find a small sense of comfort in. He leads Daz out of the room feeling weight on his chest with every step. He focuses on his breathing and the taste of his cigar. He won’t let himself crumble ever again.

            They steal a ship and head out. It’s just small enough that both he and Daz can manage it on their own. Crocodile is already forming plans to gather a new crew in the back of his mind while the forefront focuses on his current goal. Daz stays true to his word and never asks a question. He’s never been a big talker to begin with. A trait Crocodile is once again grateful for. Their destination is far and won’t be easy to reach. When they do reach the Calm Belt, Daz frown’s deeper then usual. Confusion apparent in his disapproval. Crocodile positions himself behind the main sail.

            “We don’t have the luxury of having sea prism stones on the ship or poisonous sea kings to deter the other beasts away, so expect a fight every step of the way.” Crocodile summons his sand and sends a swirling mini sandstorm just behind the sails, creating enough wind to keep the ship moving. Daz’s arms turn into blades and not even a second later, the first sea king appears.

            By the time they are even halfway through the Calm Belt they are both worn out from battling the beasts of the sea. The port side has a massive bite mark where one had managed to sink its teeth into their ship and the hull is covered in gashes. But other then that, it’s fine. When Amazon Lily comes into view, Crocodile can feel Daz staring holes into the back of his head. He ignores him and takes in the sight of the island. The place he thought he would never return to. He can’t help but give a sad chuckle. Life keeps throwing him for a loop with no signs of stopping.

            As they grow closer to the island, he begins to make out a familiar vessel anchored close to the island shores. His heart drops to his stomach. The yellow submarine that had carried the kid away along with Jinbei comes into view with its crew resting in front of a wall with the Snake Princesses symbol.

            They brought him here.

            This hadn’t been the plan. His chest aches with heart palpitations while his breathing is quickly becoming labored. He reels himself in as quick as possible. Had he been alone he would have dropped to the floor, letting his face fall into his hand, and focused on calming his heartrate and breathing. But he’s already shown to much weakness in front of Daz. So, he stays strong and ignores his frantic heartrate and fights off the shaking in his legs. Two familiar faces spot him from the shore. One is Jinbei, covered in bandages, the other is a man he doesn’t yet know but vaguely remembers seeing a wanted poster for someone named Law. Law clutches his sword ready for a fight, but Jinbei holds his hand out to stop him. When he disappears into the water, Crocodile takes a long drag of his cigar and doesn’t release the smoke until the fish man is climbing onboard his ship.

            “What are you doing here, Crocodile?” he stands, ready to fight even in his current state, but Crocodile has no interest in fighting him.

            “I’m not here for you, so calm down.” he sits on the railing of his ship. “I never expected that you would bring him here, but now that I think about it, the Snake girl was saying something about Garp being a grandfather-in-law or something of that caliber.”

            He shudders at the thought.

            “If you are not here for Luffy, then why have you come to Amazon Lily?” Jinbei doesn’t lower his guard. Crocodile takes another long drag of his cigar. Luffy.

            “I’m here to see the old lady, Gloriosa.” Crocodile says with an exhale of smoke. Jinbei stares in confusion. Daz hides his own but its still there. “Tell the old hag to meet me on the other side of the island and to come alone. If she doesn’t, then I’ll be happy to drag her out myself.”

            Jinbei finally lowers his guard, frowning at Crocodile. “You saved Luffy and myself in Marineford, so I will do you this service. Though I question your motives behind it.”

            He begins to turn back towards the island when Crocodile finds himself blurting, “Don’t…”

            He stops, staring over his shoulder at Crocodile. Crocodile keeps his face pointed in the opposite direction, not trusting himself to not give too much away. “Don’t tell the kid that I was here.”

            Jinbei says nothing else before dropping into the ocean. Crocodile has his ship circle to the other side of the island. He has Daz drop him off on the shore and then take the ship out a small way so that he might have some privacy. Crocodile leans against a tree, smoking his cigar, cursing himself for being as nervous as he is. He needs to know the truth, but a small part of him just wants to jump back onto the ship and sail away. He snuffs that feeling out quickly. He will not be coward. When footsteps approach from within the jungle, he stands up straight ready to face the old hag again.

            “You’ve got a lot of nerve coming here, man,” her voice is as old and shrill as ever. She finally emerges from the shadows of the trees, frowning and gripping at her snake that she uses as a cane.

            “Granny Nyon,” Crocodile lets the words drip from his mouth, enjoying the sight of her freezing over at the sound of that name being spoken so casually. “It’s been a long time.”

            “I don’t believe we’ve ever met.” Her grip on the snake tightens, her expression serious. “How dare you call me that.”

            “Haven’t we? If I recall the last time I saw you, you were screaming for me to return to the island. Now you want me to leave again? Very rude of you.” Crocodile wears his usual grin. There’s something about staring down someone who is clearly intimidated by him that gets his blood pumping. Granny Nyon stares at him, wide eyed, refusing to believe what she must realize is true. He does look much different then when he lived as a woman. But the similarities are still there and only those who truly knew him back then would be able to pick them out. Granny Nyon begins to shake.

            “You,” her voice is hushed, tears building up in her eyes. “But I heard that you died!”

            “I did, in a way. The old me died so that the person you see before you can thrive.” He leans against the tree again, the anxiety from before nowhere to be found. This was more liberating than he thought it would be.

            “But why? Why would you do this to yourself? As a final act of rebellion? To make it where you could never return home?” she’s raising her voice. To confused and distraught for any of it to make sense.

            “I did this to be myself!” his voice is rising to match hers. They stare at each other, silence falling on them both. After what feels like a lifetime, her face softens as she slightly leans against her cane.

            “I see,” she says, eyes averted from his. “Have you always felt this way?”

            “Always.” His breathing is returning to normal, and his pulse slows to its normal rate. She nods, finally understanding.

            “Very well, then I will find peace in the fact that you are alive and living the life you were meant to live.”

            Crocodile has never needed her approval for anything, least of all this. But still, knowing that she isn’t disapproving of him calms him more then he realized it would.

            “You may have come from Amazon Lily and even been a past Princess, but the fact remains that men are not allowed on this island.” Even as she says it, she knows she’s a hypocrite. Crocodile grins, he knew she would say this no matter the outcome and he’s never been bothered by it. But the fact that there is an entire crew of men anchored on the other side of the island makes this conversation hilarious to him.

            He arches a brow, “A rule that seems to be broken at the moment.”

            She sighs in frustration, “That Hancock is going to be the death of me! One man I can deal with. But an entire crew? What is that girl thinking? Nothing, that’s what.”

            Crocodile takes a small bit a pleasure in knowing that the tradition of giving this woman hell is still going strong. She begins to turn back towards the forest, assuming their interaction is over.

            “This isn’t why I’ve returned to Amazon Lily.” Now his words are laced with venom. She pauses before slowly turning to face him. He stares down at her with the same malice as he would any other victim caught in his clutches. “Seventeen years ago, before I left this island. You told me that my child died in childbirth. Is that true?”

            The color drains from her face. Her ghastly expression answering the question he has been asking himself since Marineford. Since Sengoku announced that Dragon has a son. But he needs hear her say it.

            “Answer me!” his sand swirls around them. she grips her cane for courage.

            “No, it is not true.” Her words pierce him deeper than any sword. He feels tears forming in his eyes but pushes on.

            “And that child, was it a girl?” his voice is faltering.

Granny Nyon closes her eyes before opening them and saying, “No, the child was a boy. You gave birth to the first boy born on Amazon Lily.”   

Chapter Text

There it is. The words he knew to be true even before he set foot on this island, even before he set sail for Amazon Lily, even before the end of the battle at Marineford. His legs tremble beneath him. The image of Granny Nyon is blurring from the tears swelling in his eyes. He wants to wipe them away, to force himself to stop. But he can’t. He’s too far gone to care about his appearance anymore.

            “You told me that the baby had been stillborn.” Now every part of him is shaking. Granny Nyon refuses to meet his eyes. “You never even let me hold him!”

            That night, the night that had nearly destroyed him, the night he has purged from his mind, comes rushing back in one fell swoop. He had spent hours suffering the throes of childbirth. Screaming and cursing Dragon’s name with each painful contraction. Only for when it to finally be over and discover that his baby had been stillborn. Except he swears with every ounce of his being that he had heard a cry shortly after the final push. A cry that has haunted him all these years.  

            “Let me see her.” he had demanded after they told him of what happened.

            “It will only make it that much more painful. I’m sorry.” Granny Nyon had tried to gently push him back on the bed, but he had refused.

            “It’s painful now! Let me see her!” but his demands would go unanswered. He would spend years wondering why he was never even allowed to look at his child’s face. But now he knows. It was because his child had been born a boy.

            In a fit of rage, he swings his arm, summoning sand to slice through the spot where Granny Nyon stands. Despite being a wrinkly old hag, she still has the speed and agility of a young Kuja warrior and dodges his attack.

            “Then tell me,” His words come out as a snarl. The tears won’t stop. The pain from that night has returned and sends him down the same path of rage as it did before. “What did you do after that night? I heard that he was raised by Monkey D. Garp so he must have found his way to Dragon. How?”

            Granny Nyon dodges another attack, landing on a stone a few feet away. She wipes away the sweat from her brow and waits for Crocodile to cease his attacks. He does, if only to hear the full truth of what happened.

            “Yes, we hid the truth. But it was only to protect you!” she cries. Crocodile’s sand swirls wildly around him.

            “Bullshit! Tell me the truth!” he’s screaming now. Even Daz had to have heard him. Granny Nyon winces and looks down.

            “I was afraid. Afraid of what this could mean for Amazon Lily. What it could mean for our future. In all our history a boy had never been born from one of our people and from our Princess no less. I was afraid your love for him would make you leave us. So, I took the ship and carried him away.” She grabs hold of her cane with both hands squeezing tightly, her face full of mournful regret. Crocodile wants to wipe the expression off her face. She doesn’t have the right to feel sorry for what she did.

            “And what good did that do you, huh?” he rasps. Learning that his child was stillborn sent him into a fit of madness. He wouldn’t sit still long enough for his body to heal and would scream and cry out for hours at a time, throwing anything in reach leaving the palace in ruin. He had shattered any mirror he came across and refused to eat. When the madness finally subsided into rage, he set out and became a menace on the sea. He raided and terrorized countless islands, eventually acquiring a bounty of 300,000,000 berries. Making the Snake Princess a force to be reckoned with. Eventually his path of hatred and self destruction lead him to Kamabakka Kingdom where he would meet Emporio Ivankov. Ivankov had been waiting for him on the shore. They must have predicted his war path would lead him there. But instead of reaching the island and wreaking havoc like he had done to all the other islands, he had stumbled onto those shores, dropped to his knees, and begged Emporio Ivankov for help. It was the only time in his entire life where he begged someone for anything, and it was most certainly the only time he has ever let anyone see him in that state. His face had been filled with grief and streaming with fat tears and snot. He had even gone as far as to cling to their cape begging for their help.

            “Please, fix me!” he had pleaded. He must have looked quite pathetic in that moment. He would cringe at his behavior in the future, but at that point in his life he had nothing else to lose. While most would have turned away, Ivankov had looked at him with sympathy.

            “You poor dear. I can’t fix you because there’s nothing broken to begin with! Though I would appreciate it if you don’t try and burn my Kamabakka Kingdom to the ground.” They had reached down and forced him to meet their gaze. “But I can help if that’s what you want?”

            After that, the Snake Princess was no more, and Crocodile was born. Though that isn’t necessarily true. He had always been Crocodile but could never truly admit it. Rather, that was the day he stopped lying to himself. 

            “Yes, I see now that there was nothing I could have done to stop you from leaving us.” Granny Nyon says. A tear drops from her eye but it only fans the flames of Crocodile’s rage. Her betrayal has opened old wounds and has done irreparable damage to both him and Luffy.

            “Tell me how he found his way to Dragon.” Crocodile demands, letting his own conqueror’s haki out, something he hasn’t done in ages. She waivers under its might but doesn’t submit like a normal person would.

She uses her cane to stable herself before saying, “That night, while you were distracted by your grief, I took the boy and set sail on the ship. I only planned to find the nearest village to leave him at orphanage or possibly even a family suitable enough to take him.”

Crocodile reels with this information, letting his sand slice through the surrounding trees. This doesn’t deter Granny Nyon as she continues, “But before I could even leave the Calm Belt, I came across a ship trying to sail through. It was under attack by countless sea kings that scattered the second they caught sight of our poisonous sea serpents. As fate would have it, Dragon was onboard that ship. Apparently, the rumors that the Snake Princess was pregnant had reached him and he assumed that the child must be his.”

“Dragon was coming?” the sand swirling around him slows until it finally drops to the ground. Dragon was coming to Amazon Lily. He lets that information wash over him until he’s suddenly lightheaded. He steps backward hoping to steady himself with the tree he had been leaning on, only to realize he had cut it down in his anger. Instead, he sits on the sliced tree stump staring down at the grass blowing in the wind. He runs a hand over his hair and lets out a strained laugh.

“I ended up giving the child to him. That is how the boy came to be in his family’s care.” She stamps the bottom of her cane on the ground as if to say, ‘that is the end of that tale’. As if this were one of her old wives’ tales and not the awful truth of Crocodile’s past.

“What did he say when you gave him the baby? What did you say?” while his anger is still there, it starts to be overshadowed with an even darker emotion leaving him with regrets and asking useless questions like what if? What if the labor had lasted only an hour longer? Would Dragon have made it to the island and be able to see the baby for himself? Would he had held their son, giving the same wide idiotic grin Dragon always wore in those days and say, “Come with!” just like he had done all those times before. Would Crocodile actually have said yes?

“All I said is that since he had come all this way, he could take the child, but he and the boy could never return to Amazon Lily.” Granny Nyon grimaces. “He had many questions, but I did not stay to answer them. Once I passed the baby into his arms, I left.”

“So that’s the truth,” the tears have stopped. The anger overshadowed by pain. The dark shadow that had restricted him to his bed for the past week washes over him stronger than ever. He stands on numb legs, swaying clumsily to the shoreline to signal Daz to come pick him up.

“You’re leaving?” Granny Nyon asks. Crocodile grits his teeth with shaking fists.

“I have what I came for. There is nothing left for me here.” But the second those words pass his lips, a scream from the opposite side of the island reaches his ears. Crocodile turns towards the sound. “Luffy.”

He takes a step in his direction but forces himself to retract it and turn his back towards the screaming. If he went to him now, it wouldn’t be a parent reuniting with his child. Luffy would only see the villain from Alabasta Kingdom.

“Listen, old hag,” Crocodile’s face is dark while keeping his back to the island, “he is a child of Amazon Lily whether you like it or not. Protect him.”

He doesn’t stay to hear her response. When Daz has the ship close enough, he leaps off the shore of Amazon Lily, landing on the deck. Daz says nothing as he directs the ship away from the island. Crocodile doesn’t look back. He stares forward, out towards the endless sea, listening to his child scream in anguish all while still asking the foolish question: what if?    

Chapter Text

            Sailing from Amazon Lily through the Calm Belt to the Grand Line went by in a blur. Crocodile made good use of the attacking sea kings as a way to relieve the pent up anger still burning after hearing the truth of his past. It didn’t extinguish the flames, but it helped. By the time they did make it to the Grand Line, both he and Daz came to the same conclusion that they need to restock on provisions. And after one particularly messy incident involving a sea king and Crocodile nearly losing the last bit of sanity he has left; they were both in dire need of a shower. When a pirate ship comes into view, Crocodile tilts his head—feeling naked after smoking the last of his cigars—considering the vessel.

            “You think we can manage a ship of that size?” Crocodile asks Daz when he joins him in watching the ship approach.

            Daz gives a smile and says, “What do you think?”

            When the pirate ship finally manages to reach them, Crocodile and Daz politely listens to the captain’s longwinded monologue. He spouts nonsense such as how they are going to steal all the gold on their ship and possibly something about how great he is. Honestly, Crocodile tuned out after the first few words. When it is no longer entertaining, Crocodile and Daz exchange a look and board the pirate ship.

            “I believe we broke some form of record for commandeering a ship.” Crocodile says when most of the crew have been shoved onto the ship he and Daz had been sailing.

            “Weaklings like these have no business being on the Grand Line.” Daz shoves the last crewmember onto the smaller ship below, leaving only the captain left. The once proud and overzealous pirate is now tied up and quite literally shaking in his boots.

            “Please don’t hurt me!” he’s begging now. It somehow both amuses and annoys Crocodile. “I didn’t know you were Croc—”

            Crocodile kicks his chest, sending him falling below. He misses the ship, landing in the water. Crocodile shrugs, “Oops.”

            One of the crewmembers helps their captain onto their new vessel that somehow looks even smaller now that it has an entire crew crammed on its deck. They stare up at the former Warlord, waiting for some form of speech. Crocodile opens his mouth to hurl an insult or possibly something about fate not being on their side until ultimately realizing that he really doesn’t care. He ends up grumbling something with the shake of his head and turns away. Daz nods and helps him point the ship in another direction, leaving the crew of pirates speechless.

            Thankfully the ship has a functioning shower, so they take turns bathing. When they’re done, they search the ship for a change of clothes only to discover their shoulders are far too broad to fit into any of the old crew’s shirts. The few pair of pants that they do manage to fit into have holes or clearly haven’t been washed in the current decade. In the end they wind up tying towels around their waists and washing the clothes that had been wearing and decide to sunbath as their clothes dry. Daz gives a chuckle.

            “You laughing at me Daz?” Crocodile asks as he leans back in his char.

            “Never thought I’d see the day when Mr. 0 does laundry.” He eases down into the chair next to him.

            “I’m not a savage unlike the louts we stole this ship from.” He tilts his head towards the rays of the sun. “You find anything to eat?”

            Daz makes a disapproving noise and says, “Not unless you want food poisoning for the next week.”

            “Outstanding.” Crocodile relaxes deeper into his chair content to sunbath until their clothes are dry. Luckily no one came by to see the infamous Crocodile and Mr. 1 lounging naked on the deck of the ship. Though it would have made for an interesting headline in the paper. Once dressed, Crocodile scours the ship once more until he finds a sizable sum of gold and berries along with an impressive inventory of booze and wine. He and Daz open a bottle of whiskey and sip their drinks as he steers the ship towards their new objective.

            “You’re pointing us towards the Calm Belt. Again.” Daz frowns at the approaching sea.

            “We need to get to the East Blue, and this is far faster then traveling back up the Grand Line.” Crocodile explains. Clearly annoyed but staying true to his word, Daz doesn’t question it and prepares himself for another exhausting battle with sea kings. The sail on this ship is much larger than their other one and requires a much larger sandstorm to keep it moving. Keeping the ship moving had been challenging before but now it’s damn near impossible. Still, he and Daz stick it out and fight off every beast that comes their way.

            By the time they make it out of the Calm Belt, they’re drenched in sweat but have managed to avoid getting covered in sea king guts. Crocodile wipes the beads of sweat from his brow and enjoys a nice cool breeze.

            “Go shower and rest. I’ve got it from here.” He says when Daz has finished unfurling the sail. He nods a ‘thank you’ and heads inside. Crocodile rolls his shoulders trying to work the tightness out of his back. It doesn’t work so he decides to pour himself a sizable glass of whiskey. The sun is setting, giving the sky a nice warm hue of orange. He sips his drink while staring at the horizon.

Dragon have better not been lying back then, he thinks to himself. Back when they first met while deep in a drunken rant he had mentioned coming from a town with windmills from the East Blue. This was before he was a wanted revolutionary. Crocodile still can’t help but smile at the memory.

Back then, he had made his way into a bar to get away from the celebrating crowd filling the streets of Loguetown. The whole world seemed to be celebrating the death of Gol D. Roger and it was beginning to give him a headache. He found an empty barstool and claimed it for himself. He didn’t know how to feel that night. Roger was a legend and one all rookies looked up to. Now he’s gone but his words and legacy will live on forever. Not wanting to get emotional about it, he had ordered a series of shots to drown his thoughts. Some time after his fifth shot he noticed someone sitting across the bar staring at him. The man had been drowning his own sorrows with liquor. Their eyes had met. Crocodile had lifted his shot glass and downed it without breaking eye contact. In turn, this made the man do the same. Before they knew it, they somehow issued a competition to see who could take the most shots. Eventually they were both piss drunk and could barely hold their heads up from hitting the bar counter.

The man eventually stumbled off his barstool and staggered over to where Crocodile had been sitting. He draped an arm around his shoulders and said, “For a lady you can really hold your liquor!”

Crocodile had shoved him away and without thinking drunkenly blurted, “Don’t call me Lady! You may only address me as Sir!”

The man raised his hands in defense, “Fine, Sir it is.”

He took the seat next to Crocodile and ordered their next round. An eruption of cheering and laughter came from outside. The man cursed and took an angry swig of his drink.

“Listen to them,” he had frowned, “they don’t even know what they’re celebrating. Gold Roger was the freest man in the world and now he’s gone.”

Crocodile poured himself another shot, spilling some on the counter. “Well, he was a pirate. What did you expect?”

“Yeah, king of the pirates.” The man shook his head and took another drink. “Everyone should have the right to live as free as he did. In this world the government rules by oppressing the people they deem unimportant. Even in my town they make it clear who is favored above others.”

“Is that so? And where might that be?” Crocodile grumbled into his drink not really caring.

“I come from the East Blue from a town full of windmills.” The mention of his town had put him in an easier mood, but the fire sparked from his government talk was still there. He smacked the counter and loudly stated, “One day I’m going to change it though! One day everyone’s going to live free from an oppressive government and live the life they want to live!”

A few people had booed him for no other reason then him being loud. Someone tossed an empty beer bottle their way, nearly hitting them. Crocodile winced and growled, “Fine, change the world, just stop shouting!”

It was at that moment that he had lost balance on his stool and began to fall off. In a desperate attempt to grab hold of something to stop himself from falling, he had grabbed onto the man’s arm, bringing him down with him. They had both laid on the floor staring up at the ceiling moaning.

“That’s it! You two are cut off!” the barkeep had shouted. Crocodile and the man had managed to get to their feet, both grumbling curses but paid their tab and exited the building. The noise was 10 times louder outside making them both cringe. Crocodile paid for a few beers at a stall before they snuck off to an alley far enough away that it muffled the surrounding chaos. He had been annoyed when the man continued to follow him but eventually gave in and sat against a building nursing a beer. They sat so close that their shoulders touched despite there being ample space.

“I am gonna do it though,” the man had said after they had settled. Crocodile had turned to stare at him, and the man did the same. Their faces only inches apart. “I’m going to change the world someday.”

Their eyes locked. Crocodile slowly raised a hand and poked at the man’s forehead, “You know you don’t have any eyebrows? It’s really starting to piss me off.”

The man slapped a hand over his forehead blushing, “I’m over here talking about changing the world and you’re more concerned about my eyebrows?”

“Well, the lack thereof.” Crocodile shrugged before they had both burst out into laughter.

When their laughs faded, the man nudged him, “So, what dreams and ambitions do you have?”  

Crocodile had lifted his head to stare up at the night sky. Fireworks were going off, illuminating the sky with different hues of purple and blue. He took another sip of his drink, “Well, the spot for a Pirate King just opened up. Maybe I’ll shoot for that.”  

That’s when the man gave Crocodile a wide idiotic grin for the first time and said, “That’s great, as long as you live the life you want.”

Crocodile had turned away. The night had dragged on with them having conversations Crocodile would later forget. Eventually it came time for them to part ways. They had stood and faced each other.

The man had stretched his arm out and said, “My names Monkey D. Dragon. The next time you see me, I’ll be bringing forth a new age!”

Crocodile had stared at him, taking in his features, his determined eyes and stupid grin. Finally, he turned away and said, “Yeah, whatever.”

Now, Crocodile looks back on that night fondly. Neither of them ever expected that their paths would cross again, but it did. Several times in fact. He stares down into his drink, swirling the dark liquid with a smile. Before he knew it the sun had set with the only light coming from a full moon and a sky full of stars. He stares up at them. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed the night sky. The sound of Daz walking out of the captain’s quarters brings him back to his senses.

“I’ve got it from here if you want to rest.” Daz says.

Crocodile shakes his head, “Let’s drop anchor. We’ll find our way in the morning.”

Daz leaves him on the deck once more. He leans on the ship’s railing, staring up at the stars, and sipping his drink while thinking of simpler times.  

Chapter Text

The search for Dragon’s town is proving to be more difficult than Crocodile expected. Apparently, asking people if they knew of a village with windmills isn’t an adequate enough description to pinpoint the specific town. Despite this, he continues on, all while ignoring Daz’s constant staring, the throbbing headache that has persisted for two days now, and the fact that he’s hardly slept in over a week. Every night when he closes his eyes, he’s met with the same nightmares that are content to replay themselves over and over again. The first is always the scene of Luffy being impaled by his hook in the Alabasta desert while the sound of his dripping blood rings in his ears. The second is in Impel Down when he ran ahead, leaving his child to fight Magellan alone, knowing he probably wouldn’t win. This is quickly followed by the sight of Akainu rearing back to strike at his boy’s traumatized and comatose body. In some dreams, it plays out the way it happened, and Crocodile is able to slice through Akainu’s body with his sand. Other times aren’t so merciful, and his sand doesn’t reach him in time, forcing Crocodile to watch helplessly as Luffy is killed just out of arms reach.

            And if that isn’t enough, his waking thoughts are consumed by the conversation he had with Granny Nyon back on Amazon Lily. Her betrayal, the truth about his son, and learning that Dragon had tried to cross the Calm Belt to reach them, each a weight he’s unable to put down, making every waking moment a struggle. Sometimes he can trick his mind into remembering pleasant times of when he and Dragon were young, but even those memories leave him feeling hollow in the end.  Least to say, it’s beginning to take a toll on both his mental and physical state.

            By the time Crocodile has returned to the ship, his movements have become sluggish and any attempt to keep up appearances has vanished. Daz waits for him on the deck with his arms crossed, clearly wanting to say something but smart enough to hold his tongue. Like all the others, Crocodile didn’t have much hope for this island. Every person had a different response to his questions about a town with windmills. The only good thing about stopping at so many islands is that they have been able to purchase new clothes and supplies.

He makes his way into the captain’s quarters and examines the map of the East Blue that he’s spread out on a table. He crosses out this island and stares at the countless others he’s yet to reach. Just looking at the other islands leaves him fatigued. He slumps into a chair and lights another cigar. On the exhale, he lets his head fall back so he’s staring up at the ceiling.

            He must have closed his eyes and drifted to sleep because the next thing he sees is Luffy hanging from his hook with blood dripping to the sand. He jolts awake, immediately tense with a racing heart. He rests his forehead in his hand when his headache throbs behind his right eye. He needs to sleep but that’s not really an option at this point. He only lifts his head when he hears a mug being placed on the table. He carefully picks up the warm cup, inspecting the dark liquid and enjoying the rich aroma of coffee for the first time in ages.

            “Do you want me to call a doctor?” Daz leans against the table as he sips his own cup of coffee.

            “What the hell for?” Crocodile takes a sip, feeling the warmth spread down his throat and chest. Daz gets the message and doesn’t ask again. He forces himself to his feet, no longer trusting himself to sit, and looks back over the map before making a decision on where to go.

            Crocodile knows next to nothing about the Goa Kingdom. But then again, he knows next to nothing about any island in the East Blue. He expects the island to be as much of a failure as all the others, that is at least until the island comes into view and he catches sight of the first windmill.  

            “We should move on to the next island.” Daz says as they grow closer to the island. He points towards the shore. “There’s a Navy battleship docked at the pier.”

            Crocodile grins when he spots a sign just past the battleship, “It appears this island is under the protection of Vice Admiral Garp.”

            “Even more reason to move on.” Daz turns to point the ship in a different direction but stops when Crocodile shakes his head.

            “No, drop me off and take the ship out of sight. I’ll call you on a mini transponder snail when I need a pickup.” Crocodile lets out a stream of smoke and smiles. He’s found it. The place where Luffy was raised.

            Before departing their ship, Crocodile makes sure to ditch his signature coat and cigar. He doubts anyone would be able to connect the dots as to why he came to this island, but he’d rather not take the chance. Not to mention he has no intention of ever returning to Impel Down. He pulls a cloak over his head and starts down the main road of the sleepy village. The village itself is small compared to the city just past the mountains and, true to Dragon’s word, there are plenty of windmills peppering the landscape. There are also a plethora of marines milling around the streets. Every now and then, a few will look his way but eventually lose interest. Walking around with a cloak isn’t as inconspicuous as it seems, but it’s still better than the alternative and so far no one has recognized him. When a group of marines start down the road, he decides to hide out in the local bar until they move on.

            “My, you must be new here,” the bartender says once he takes a seat at the counter. Her face is bright and kind. He can usually tell if a town is peaceful and easy going by the bartenders. If they are tense and rough around the edges, then so is the town. But if they’re bright and easygoing, then it usually means the town is safer than others.

            “I am. Just passing through.” He nods his head politely and orders a whiskey neat.

            “We haven’t gotten many visitors lately.” She says as she slides him his drink. “It’s probably due to that new sign near the docks.”

            “Get a lot of pirates here then?” he sips his drink, careful not to expose too much of his face. She gives a shrug and a sigh.

            “You could say that. They aren’t all bad, though I can’t say I was upset to see the ones who came this way after the Marineford incident leave.” she drops her eyes to the counter, grief clear across her face.

            Carefully, Crocodile says, “I heard a rumor that Portgas D. Ace came from this village. Is that true?”

            She presses her lips together as tears form in the corner of her eyes, “Yes. And I don’t care what anyone else says, he didn’t deserve what happened to him.”

            Crocodile gently swirls the whiskey in his glass. He still remembers standing at the base of the platform after stopping the first two executioners. Then the image of Luffy holding his dead brother flashes behind his eyes. He downs his drink.

            “Then I guess its safe to assume that Monkey D. Luffy is also from this village?” He gestures for another round.

            She pours him another drink and gives a sad smile, “Yes, Luffy was always chasing after his brother and getting into trouble when they were younger. That never really changed, I suppose.”

            “Luffy,” a voice further down the counter grunts. Crocodile and the woman turn to look at a man hunched over his drink. His words are harsh, but his face only shows compassion. “We should be ashamed that such a pirate came from our village.”

            “Mayor!” the woman snaps, but it doesn’t stop him.

            “But what did we expect?” the mayor sways drunkenly in his seat, “He was raised by mountain bandits after all!”

            Crocodile chokes on his drink and draws the attention of both the woman and the mayor. When he can finally speak, he says, “Bandits? You’re saying that mountain bandits raised Monkey D. Luffy?”

            “Yes, surprising I know, considering who his grandfather is,” The mayor says, and then, a little quieter he mumbles, “Or maybe it’s not so surprising at all.”

            Crocodile rubs his temple and grumbles, “I hate how much sense that makes.”

            “Oh? Do you know Luffy?” the woman asks. The mayor turns to him as well. Crocodile pauses before downing the rest of his drink and standing.

            “Thank you for the drink.” He puts a small sack of coins on the counter.

            “Oh, wait! This is too much!” the woman calls after him. He says nothing else before disappearing out the door.

            It only takes questioning two people for Crocodile to find the mountain where these bandits are supposed to live. He discovers a trail and decides to follow it with part of him wanting to use his sand to speed up the path, but he doesn’t dare expose himself when Garp could be lurking around any corner. Mountain bandits. As if he didn’t already have enough reasons to hate that man. What was he thinking?

            Eventually, he comes to a house hidden deep within the forest. It’s a humble home with a clothesline stretching from a tree all the way to the house. He approaches the door, listening for anyone inside. He considers knocking but finds himself pushing the door open before giving it any serious thought. Once past the walkway he can hear voices past a curtain. Without hesitating, he whips the current open to take in a room full of bandits currently fighting over a massive pile of meat.

            Crocodile lets out a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. This makes too much damn sense. No one has even noticed him standing in the doorway yet. If he had come here to kill them, they’d be dead. He spots a large woman sitting near an irori and decides she must be in charge. He walks over and sits next to her. She takes a giant bite out of a piece of meat, still not noticing Crocodile.

            “Are they always this rowdy?” He asks. When a piece of meat rolls towards him, he picks it up, inspects it, and then takes a bite. Normally, he wouldn’t eat something that touched the floor, but considering his kid probably lived like this for most of his life, it seems only right that he does it too.

            “Oh yeah, especially around dinner time! But you should see them in the winter when huntin’ is scarce!” the woman laughs with a full mouth. Crocodile takes another bite as the woman freezes and the room falls into a dead silence.

            In an instant, everyone in the room is on high alert and pointing some form of weapon at Crocodile and shouting, “Who the hell are you!”

Crocodile finishes chewing the bite in his mouth before turning to the room. “Are you the bandits that raised Portgas D. Ace and Monkey D. Luffy?”

“Maybe we are, maybe we aren’t! What’s it to you?” The woman shouts.

“I’m here on behalf of Luffy’s mother.”

This makes the room fall into another deep silence.

“Mother? Garp never mentioned Luffy having a mother!” a short man next to the woman says. The woman slowly lowers the bat in her hand.

“Yeah, so what if you are? He ain’t here. What do you want with us?” She frowns down from where he sits. Crocodile reaches into his cloak and pulls out a sizable sack of coins and jewels. He tosses it so it lands at the feet of the woman with a loud THUD. The woman’s eyes nearly bulge out of her head when she sees what’s inside.

“It’s payment for looking after him for all those years.” He shifts so that he can bow with his palms and forehead pressed to the floor. “Thank you for looking after Luffy for all those years. It shouldn’t have been your burden to carry, so on behalf of his mother I thank you.”

“Wait, so does this mean his mother is alive? Why isn’t she here doing this herself? Not that I’m not grateful, Garp sure as hell never paid any child support or even said thank you! But it’s still odd that a mother would give up her child like that.” the woman folds her arms as Crocodile flinches at her words.

“The situation with his mother is… complicated to say the least.” He gets to his feet and turns towards the door.     

“Hey, wait!” a man with a face that reminds Crocodile of a rooster, digs into a crate before rushing to his side. “You’re going to see his mom again, right? Then give her this. Luffy came to us when he was really little. I bet she’d like a picture of him.”

Crocodile stares down at a small photo of a bright eyed boy with a fearless smile. He’s wearing the same straw hat that he always wears. In the background are two other boys a few years older. One is obviously Portgas D. Ace but the other one is unknown.

“Who is this boy?” he points to the blonde boy.

“That’s Sabo. Another one of Luffy’s brothers. He died at a young age, I’m afraid.” The small man from before says. Crocodile swallows the growing knot in his throat while folding the picture and slipping it into his breast pocket.

“Don’t you want to hear about his childhood or something?” The woman asks.

Crocodile can’t face her. He shakes his head and says, “Just from one look around I can tell that he was happy here. And from the looks of it, he had two brothers looking out for him too. It’s clear that he was loved and still is. That’s all that matters.”

He doesn’t let them stop him again and forces his way out of the house.

He stumbles down the path towards the village, tripping on nearly every root and rock sticking up in the path. Eventually, he leans against a tree to steady himself. His head is swimming. It’s still odd that a mother would give up her child like that.

“I didn’t give him up!” he breathes helplessly to no one. He finds himself aimlessly wandering from the main path until he comes to a river. He sits on a rock to even his breathing and wait for his head to stop swimming. He can’t stop himself from pulling the photo of Luffy out of his pocket. He rubs a thumb gently across the boy’s face. He does look happy. But still, he can’t help wondering what type of life they would have lived if they could have spent it together.

Eventually, the photo of his boy begins to blur as fat tears fall from his face. He forces himself to put the picture away and wipe his eyes. It does little to help and he’s too tired to keep the tough guy act up any longer. A pain more painful than any wound aches in his chest. For a moment he wishes he had never escaped Impel Down and learned the truth. Even if he spent the rest of his days being tortured and never being able to see the sky again, it would still be less painful than what he’s feeling now.

He stays by that river for hours, having no strength to pull himself together. By the time the sun begins to set, he’s finally managed to stop the tears. He glances up at the orange and pink sky. He and Dragon used to sit and stare up at the sky, usually while Dragon went on and on about the injustices of the world. Every now and then he’d tell Crocodile of some absurd tale that couldn’t possibly be true. He would pull on a smile not much different then Luffy’s and swear by it. At last, Crocodile manages to give a deep exhale and muster the energy to get to his feet. He needs to get back to Daz before he decides to come looking for him.

As he turns to leave the river, he feels eyes glaring at him. He glances over his shoulder just as a giant crocodile lunges out of the water at him. He lets off a small burst of conquerers haki, subduing the creature. Crocodile looks the beast over. She’s large and covered in scars. He finds himself reaching out to run a hand over her rough scales.

“Seen better years, huh girl?” he says softly. Now that she fully understands who she’s dealing with, she comes across as much more friendly. Much like the banana gators that he had while in Alabasta. Behind her are four other crocodiles, each hesitant but curious about the stranger petting their mother. Crocodile smiles down at the beasts, “Wanna come with me?”

He hadn’t meant to leave the island with a line of crocodiles, but at this point he’s learned to stop questioning fate. When he leads the beasts onto the ship, Daz stares at them blankly.

“Sir, this isn’t why you chose to come to this island… right?” he’s unable to take his eyes off of the five new members of their crew.

“Don’t worry about it, Daz. And set course for the Grand Line.” He pats his shoulder while walking over to sit in one of the sunbathing chairs. There are already a few stars out. He lets his right hand gently rest over his breast pocket while imagining a life that he and Luffy could have lived together.   

Chapter Text

The aftermath of Marineford is still fresh in everyone’s mind. The world thought the death of Whitebeard would bring an era of peace. Little did they know Whitebeard was the only thing holding back complete chaos. Now more than ever, pirates take to the seas in search of the One Piece, just like Gold Roger did all those years ago. This hasn’t made things easy for the Revolutionary Army.

Dragon frowns at another report of an island coming under attack by pirates. The Navy is stretched thin and with the new change in command they’re unable to keep up with the growing issue. Not that he truly believed they could properly handle it in the first place. He shuffles a stack of reports, trying to stay focused on the task at hand. Around him, many of his comrades still whisper and murmur about what happened at Marineford. The news of Kuma and the pacifistas is unsettling to say the least. Though, Dragon can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief to know that Ivankov is free from Impel Down. But the most concerning so far has been how Sabo has reacted to the news. The boy has lived most of his life with amnesia only to have his memories return after learning that his brother has been killed. Dragon rubs his forehead, fighting off a stress headache. He never imagined Sabo and his son would know each other let alone close enough to consider themselves brothers.

            He glances in Sabo’s direction. He’s currently hunched over a scattered pile of papers with two others worriedly working beside him. There are dark circles under his eyes, and he hasn’t had a proper meal since the incident. Dragon—and countless others—have already told him to rest. After regaining his memories, he fell into a 3 day coma and now the boy’s trying to get back to work like nothing happened. But Dragon knows better than to push any harder than he already has. The boy has to work it out the way he sees fit.

            Dragon looks back down at the stack of reports in his hands. He shuffles them again until a report involving Luffy lands on the top. He turns towards a window to hide his smile. The base had been in an uproar when they learned that Straw hat Luffy was his son. The article describes Luffy’s harrowing charge up the scaffold towards Ace. Apparently, he had been attacked by Hawkeyes Mihawk on the way but was saved by…

            He tenses with his grip tightening on the paper.

Crocodile.

            “You alright, sir?” Koala notices him frowning at the report. She pauses next to him with her arms filled with messy papers and maps.

            “I’m fine. Keep working.” He keeps his voice steady. She nods and keeps moving. Dragon sets the stack of reports on a table and makes for the exit. Sabo’s eyes bore into him as he leaves the room, but he ignores them. He keeps moving until he reaches his bedroom. His room is the same as anyone else’s. He may be the leader of the revolutionary army, but that didn’t mean he would let himself take advantage of the position. He ate what everyone else ate and if everyone else slept in a small room barely big enough for a twin bed, then so would he.

He shuffles further inside, and grabs hold of the paper that covered the events at Marineford. He’s memorized each page at this point but there is one section that he skims over each time. He flips to the third page, feeling his fingers grip tighter on the paper, tearing the sides. At the bottom is a picture of Luffy with the group of prisoners he broke out of Impel Down. He takes his time studying each face as he scans over the prisoners. Among them are Ivankov, Jinbei who he never expected to see fighting with his son, Buggy the clown who… well. Then his eyes reached the end. The former warlord Crocodile stands beside Dragon’s son, frowning down where the picture was taken.

Dragon lets out a breath and sits on the edge of his bed. There is a reason he’s never personally spent time researching Crocodile himself. Why he’s assigned others to his case whenever the revolutionary army needed to keep tabs on him. Dragon lets the paper fall into his lap as he leans against the wall his bed is pushed against. Staring up at the ceiling, he lets his emotions swirl in his chest.

“Just a coincidence.” He mutters to himself. After closing the paper, he tosses it onto the small table that takes up as much space as his bed and leans on his knees. He links his fingers tightly together as he fights off his thoughts. He says again but much firmer, “It’s just a coincidence.”

When the thoughts dissipate, it takes his strength with them. His arms and head feel heavy while his chest aches like an old wound that’s starting to act up. He glances at the corner of his room. Had he had any strength left, he would have stopped himself. It’s been years since he’s thought about him. Since he’s really thought about him. Missing him is another matter entirely. He doubts he’ll ever be able to go anywhere without glancing around, wondering what if? What if he shows up after all these years? What if he turns the corner? What if he gives the same cocky grin he used to always give? Then he would give some halfhearted insult that would only make Dragon laugh.

But he never did. And never will. Not ever again.

Dragon drops to his knees in the corner of his room to pull the rug back so he can reach the floorboards. He lifts the loose board, revealing a secret compartment where a box has been stashed. Sitting on the dirty floor with his back against his nightstand he rests the box in his lap. It’s coated in a thick layer of dust, evidence of how long it’s been since he’s peeked inside. He carefully lifts the lid to take in the contents.

The first item to catch his eye is Luffy’s pacifier from when he was a baby. Dragon picks it up, twisting it in his fingers and smiling at the memory. He carefully places it back in the box and lets himself get lost in all his treasured items. The medal his dad gave him as a child for saving another kid that fell into the ocean. A ring that belonged to his mother. A photo of him, Ivankov, and Kuma after officially forming the revolutionary army. And finally, a small box of old cigars. He pauses before taking the cigars out of the box. He swipes his hand over the dust covering the logo.

“These were your favorite,” he says to the air, “Pricy for back then, but then again, you always did want the best.”

He carefully opens the box and takes out one of the cigars, gently lifting it to his nose. He closes his eyes and inhales the rich aroma. After all these years, the scent has dulled but it’s still there along with the memories of him.  

Back then, when Dragon was just starting out as a revolutionary, he and his small team had caught wind of high government officials having a meeting in a nearby city. He, Kuma, and Ivankov deployed in hopes of listening in on their schemes. Unfortunately, back then, Dragon hadn’t quite refined his talents of moving unnoticed. So, almost immediately after splitting with Ivankov, he was spotted by a group of marines.

He ran down endless alleys in hopes of ditching them, but it was proving near impossible. He finally leapt behind a dumpster and crouched down, praying the marines would move on. He panted and breathed in the sour trash stench as the marines reached his spot. They paused, confused by how Dragon just seemed to disappear, before darting off in a random direction. Dragon let out a sigh of relief and cautiously stepped out from behind the dumpster. He decided to continue down a different alley, hoping to put some distance between him and the marines.

When he found an alleyway cooler than the rest, he decided to stop and take a break. He pressed his back to the cool brick wall and wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. He was suddenly grateful for all the times his old man chased him through the jungle. Maybe the geezer had some sixth sense and knew it would come in handy one day? Just as he pushed himself from the wall, he heard something overhead. He glanced up to see a third story window opening. He didn’t think much of it, at least not until someone jumped out of it. He should have dodged it, but back then he had been too shocked to do anything.

The person landed on him like a sack of rocks. He found himself staring at the sky and wondering why everything was spinning. The person who had fallen on him seemed fine and was able to get to their feet almost immediately. Dragon struggled to sit up, wincing at the pain in his head and back.

“Hey, you alright?” He asked, though it should really be the other way around. He blinked up at the dark outline of a person until finally their features come into view. He didn’t recognize the person at first, but after they set in their deep glare, it clicked.

Forceful hands shoved him away as the person snarled, “Don’t call me Lady! You may only address me as Sir!”

“Sir?” he said slowly before smiling. “Hey, long time no see buddy!”

At that point, it had probably been five months since Gol D. Roger’s death. Sir had tensed, either because he hadn’t expected someone to call him that or possibly because he recognized Dragon from that night too. Eventually, the man relaxed his shoulders and reached a hand towards him. Dragon reached out, expecting Sir to help him to his feet, only for his hand to extend past his hand and grab onto Dragon’s cloak. He yanked it off him and wrapped the cloak around his own shoulders. After pulling the hood up, he darted down the alley, leaving Dragon on the ground, mouth open, speechless.

            Now fueled by rage, Dragon jumped to his feet and speeded after Sir.

            “Hey!” he called when he caught up to the other man. Sir flinched; he clearly hadn’t expected Dragon to be so fast. “Give me back my cloak!”

            Looking back on this, Dragon realizes screaming down an alley wasn’t the most inconspicuous thing to do.

            “Beat it, you creep!” Sir yelled back. The word creep stabbed him deeply, but it didn’t slow him one bit.

            He continued his chase even after Sir turned down a main road. They weaved between people, even knocking over a cart by accident. When Dragon started gaining on him, he leapt forward, kicking the man in the back. He grinned, thinking he’s got him… at least until he realized he’d kicked Sir over a railing and is now falling over the side himself.

            “You moron!” Sir yelled as they both plummeted from the city on the top layer down to the city on the bottom layer. Suddenly the cloak didn’t seem that important. They crashed through a ceiling of a building, breaking through to the bottom floor. They both laid in a pile of rubble, groaning, and coughing at the dust and dirt clouds they knocked up. Dragon forced himself to sit up, feeling every ache and pain throb through his body. While trying to wave the dirt and dust out of his face, he clumsily got to his feet. He tried to stumble towards a door when it gets kicked open and the space that wasn’t covered in debris was then filled with marines, all pointing their guns at Dragon.

            “You’re under arrest, Revolutionary leader Dragon!” one of the marines yelled. Dragon readied himself to fight when he remembered Sir behind him. He looked back only to find that he had disappeared. Before Dragon could turn back to face the marines, one of them took the opportunity to hit him in the head with the butt of his gun, knocking Dragon out.

            When he started to come back around, he developed a head splitting headache. He blinked until his vision cleared and he realized he’s chained to a post down a private street while being surrounded by marines. One spoke into a transponder snail, while explaining who they’ve captured. Dragon gritted his teeth while struggling against the chains.

            Iva, Kuma, please don’t be to mad at me, he thought to himself. He had already started coming up with an escape plan when a figure turned the corner up a flight of stairs directly ahead of them. Dragon froze. Sir.

            Sir took his time while walking down the steps. The marine with the transponder snail paused when he noticed Sir.

            “Ma’am, you can’t be here. This is a dangerous man.” The marine stepped in front of Sir. Dragon could see the twitch of annoyance on the other man’s face. Sir mumbled something that the marine couldn’t catch. “Huh? What was that?”

            Sir motioned for the marine to come closer. Like a fly getting caught in a spider’s trap, the marine stepped closer. Sir leaned in, grinned, and whispered something that made the marine turn white. Not even a second later, Sir had a pistol drawn and tucked under the marine’s jaw. Then he pulled the trigger.

            The marines were too slow for Sir’s speed and accuracy. He took out the three furthest from him with his pistol before putting his gun away and swinging a leg, knocking a charging marine into a building wall. The last one froze, knowing he couldn’t win. A sinister grin spread across Sir’s face, sending a chill up Dragon’s spine. The marine ran but it was too late. Sir caught him, coating his right arm with armament haki and delivering the final blow.

            Dragon took in the destruction while at a complete loss for words. Sir dug through the last marine’s coat and pulled out a small box of cigars and the key to Dragon’s chains. He felt the chains around him loosen. When they dropped, he turned to Sir who stood over him while lighting a cigar. He took a deep pull before letting out a cloud of smoke and filling the air with the rich smoky scent.

            “Why did you save me?” Dragon got to his feet, never taking his eyes off him.

Sir stared up at the sky, the cigar hanging from his lips. With a shrug he said, “This is my brand of cigar.”

He had tossed Dragon his cloak before making his way back up the stairs. Dragon watched him go until he turned the corner and was gone. He stood there a little longer, stuck in a daze before snapping out of it when a marine twitched. He pulled his cloak back on and left the area.

            Eventually, he managed to meet back up with Ivankov and Kuma. They stood on the side of a street while Ivankov lost their mind after witnessing Dragon’s fall from the upper city. Kuma said nothing but Dragon could tell he was worried. Dragon shook his head at Ivankov and said, “I’m sorry I just… well I don’t really know how to explain what happened.”

            “You’re going to be the death of me!” Iva pinched the bridge of their nose. “We can’t have the leader of the Revolutionary Army falling from the sky like that!”

            Dragon rubbed the back of his neck, having nothing left to say. Kuma lifted his head to look down the street. Iva and Dragon followed his gaze to see the Kuja warriors making their way down the street. People parted to make way for the pirate group. Dragon almost gasped when he spotted Sir at the center.

            “Hey, Iva,” Dragon’s mouth had felt dry at that moment. “Who is that?”

            “What, you don’t know? That’s the Snake Empress of Amazon Lily.” They had explained. “I’d steer clear of that one if I were you.”

            Dragon watched Sir make his way down the street. Next to him, a short woman spoke angrily to him. When they passed, he managed to hear, “… and you can’t just disappear like that! You are our princess after all! Take some responsibility.”

            “I just wanted some air.” Sir had sighed, looking more drained from that conversation than he had from falling from the upper city with Dragon. When his eyes had lifted and met Dragon’s it had been like time stopped and with it Dragons heart. By the time Sir had pulled his eyes away from his, Dragon’s heart had started to race. He would never be able to explain what drew him to Sir. But it was that moment that had ignited something in his heart.

            Now, Dragon sits on the floor in his room with his heart aching for someone who is long gone. He carefully slips the cigar back into its packaging and places it back in the box. He pauses when he sees an old news paper folded at the bottom, hidden under his treasures. His hand trembles as it reaches for it. With it folded the headline only reads SNA and beneath that DEA. Before his fingers can touch the aged paper, a knock comes from his door just as a tear slips from his cheek.

            “Dragon, sir?” Sabo’s voice comes from the other side. “The meetings about to start.”

            “Ri—right,” Dragon quickly puts the box back in its hiding place and returns the floor to normal. He wipes his cheek while trying to pull himself together. He stops in front of his small cracked mirror hanging on the wall to check his face. He’s always surprised by how much older he is. In his mind he’s still that young rookie trying to change the world. Now there are wrinkles and scars, both formed over time. He glances down at the paper covering Marineford and shoves it into a drawer before stepping out of his room. Sabo fills him in on what he and the others have learned, but his mind is elsewhere.

            Coincidence, he thinks to himself, it’s just a coincidence.

Chapter Text

            Crocodile sips what must be his fourth cup of coffee, while locking eyes with Daz from across the deck. The afternoon sun shines high in the sky with little to no cloud cover to provide any relief from its scorching heat. Daz stands with his arms crossed, frowning at his boss as beads of sweat roll down the sides of his face, never moving from his spot. They’ve been like this for hours. A few of the pet crocodiles took notice but lost interest almost immediately and left to sunbathe. The largest of the five, stays by Crocodile’s side, sleeping in the shade of his chair. Crocodile sets his cup down and leans against the back rest when he feels sweat drip between his shoulder blades. 

            “Just go to bed.” Daz says when Crocodile’s concentration slips, letting his head bob down before jerking it back up.

            “I don’t need you mothering me.” Crocodile crosses his arms, mimicking Daz’s frown. They return to silent staring. He’s not sure when they started this childish standoff, but one thing is for sure, neither is backing down.  

            They probably could have gone on like that till sundown if it weren’t for a splashing sound coming from the port side of the ship. Daz is the first to pull his eyes away to see what’s causing the noise. Glad for the momentary ceasefire, Crocodile gets to his feet—pausing when everything starts to spin—and crosses over to inspect the noise.

He smiles when a familiar sight approaches the ship. He calls down, “Hawkeye.”

The warlord lounges in his ridiculously small ship, staring back at him, “Crocodile? You look like hell.”

Crocodile feels Daz’s eyes turn on him, but he just waves him away. “Why don’t you come on up? I’ll pour you a drink.”

 “That depends. How many crocodiles do you have on deck at the moment?” Hawkeye raises a brow.

Crocodile glances down at the five creatures crawling around the deck, each growing more curious and hissing with excitement at the sound of another person. He turns back to Hawkeye and says, “No more than usual.”

Hawkeye considers this for a moment before leaping up onto the deck while Daz secures his ship. Hawkeye takes in the five reptiles, shaking his head with a sigh as he follows Crocodile into the captain’s quarters. Crocodile pours two glasses of wine and hands one to him. 

“So,” Crocodile says once they’re seated, “I assume everything at Marineford has officially wrapped up?”

Hawkeye swirls the wine gently in his glass, “You assume correct.”

“I was surprised to see you so obedient. Very unlike you.” The battle is still vivid in his mind. If he thinks about it for too long, he can still feel the vibrations racing up his left arm from where they had collided. Hawkeye gives a tired sigh and rests his head against his propped fist.

“If I hadn’t, they could have revoked my status as a warlord. I did my part and now they can leave me alone.” He takes a sip of his wine before staring across at Crocodile. “Besides, your actions were far more surprising than my own.”

Crocodile stays silent and takes a larger sip of his wine. He savors the rich full flavor until he realizes how fast it puts him in a fuzzy haze. He slowly lowers the glass, realizing he hasn’t eaten anything today. Or last night for that matter. 

“Care to explain why you protected Straw Hat?” Hawkeye doesn’t take his eyes off Crocodile, studying his movement and expression with a deep severity.

“Do you really want to know?” Crocodile meets his gaze, challenging him to press further. Finally, Hawkeye turns away.

“I suppose not.”

This was one of the reasons why he and Hawkeye got along so well. They didn’t prod into each other’s business. Unlike Moria who likes to flaunt his plans and prod others into revealing their own. Or Doflamingo who dances around the subject, dangling it in front of you like a carrot. He wants to draw you in, make you curious, all while never revealing a thing. He pisses Crocodile off the most. Kuma and Jinbei have never interested him, and Boa… well, he usually steers clear of her. Hawkeye is the only warlord he’s ever been able to tolerate. He’s silently glad their confrontation at Marineford hasn’t changed that.    

After a moment, Crocodile says, “So, I suppose you’ll be heading back to that morbid island of yours?”

Hawkeye pauses mid drink and says, “My island is not morbid.”

“Right,” Crocodile chuckles into his glass, “And I’m not made of sand.”

“If you must know, I am looking forward to some peace and quiet. On my completely normal island.” Hawkeye straightens in his seat.

“You’ve been gone for a while now. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone moved in while you were away.” Crocodile grins when he grimaces.

“Please do not say that. You might accidently manifest it into existence.” He frowns deeper than usual and rubs the spot just above his brow.

Crocodile continues to chuckle until Daz steps into the open doorway and says, “Boss, we have an issue near the bow.”  

Crocodile sets his glass down and pushes himself out of his chair. He walks out onto the deck, cringing away from the intense heat he had momentarily forgotten and crosses towards the bow, searching for any sign of trouble. One of the pet crocodiles stares at him as he stands at the front of the ship, not seeing anything out of the ordinary.

“Daz, what issue were you…” he trails off when he realizes that Daz never followed him out of the room. He looks back towards the open door of the captain’s quarter and spots Daz speaking with Hawkeye. He watches Hawkeye’s expression change from a frown, to arching a brow, to a curious grin, until he laughs and nods before eerily smiling in Crocodile’s direction.

“Daz,” Crocodile glares at him when he returns to the room. “What’s going on?”

“Sorry, sir. Must have been my eyes playing tricks on me.” Daz shrugs his shoulders and leaves Crocodile standing in the doorway. Crocodile shuts the door, eager to keep the heat and Daz out.

Hawkeye gives a chuckle while refilling their glasses and says, “Come, sit and drink with me.”

Crocodile takes his seat, eyeing Hawkeye suspiciously. He’s smiling, something the man rarely does. Unable to justify a reason to doubt him, Crocodile takes his glass and takes another sip. The wine immediately rushes to his head, making him slouch with his head propped by his hand. Before he can finish what he already has, Hawkeye is refilling his glass.

“You’re suddenly in a good mood.” Crocodile says, noticing the slight slur in his words. Hawkeye frowns, tilting his head as if he hadn’t noticed.

He tops off his glass and relaxes back into his chair, “Am I? It must be because I’m glad that the whole Marineford business is behind us. Cheers.”

He clinks his glass with Crocodile’s and takes a sip. Crocodile does the same, taking a bigger sip then he had intended. Before he knows it, his glass is empty and Hawkeye is refilling it once again. Crocodile holds up a finger, prompting Hawkeye to pause.

“Is that a different bottle of wine?” He struggles to point at the bottle in Hawkeye’s hand. Hawkeye looks down at the vintage and shakes his head.

“Now, don’t tell me you’re already drunk? When did you become such a light weight, Crocodile?” Hawkeye arches a brow with a slight grin. That grin pisses Crocodile off, prompting him to down his glass almost immediately. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as his head and body feel 10 times heavier. Hawkeye tilts his head, “Not looking so good there. Perhaps you should lye down. Take a nap.”

Suddenly, it clicks. This is why Daz came up with a bullshit reason for Crocodile to leave the room so he could get Hawkeye in on… he rests his forehead in his hand, suddenly too exhausted to even think. His thoughts are scrambling. He can barely focus on why he was so angry just a second ago. Arms are hoisting him out of the chair and dragging him to the bed. Daz and Hawkeye heave his drunken body onto the lumpy mattress while he tries to remember when Daz entered the room.

“Traitor.” Crocodile mumbles when his head feels like its doing somersaults. Hawkeye and Daz exchange a look, each wondering who that was directed toward.

“You need to sleep. It’s been days.” Daz says, reiterating what he’s already told him several times before.

Hawkeye gives a sigh, “Honestly Crocodile. Try not to be such a trouble to your single crewmate. Though this has been quite amusing.”

“Thank you.” Daz gives a slight bow to Hawkeye who shakes his head.

“No, thank you. The wine was delicious. But I must be off now. Until next time, Crocodile. Maybe next time you’ll be well rested.” Hawkeye chuckles as he turns away.

“I hope your island is covered in tourists!” Crocodile snarls but it does little to stop the other man from laughing.

Daz looks back down at Crocodile, “Forgive me, but this is for the best.”

Crocodile wants to hurl a threat at him but he’s unable to get the words out. Eventually he’s the only one in the room. Everything spins around him and with no more strength remaining, he fell into a deep sleep. Sleep that forced him to relive his past.    

*

It had been hot that day too. Crocodile remembers squinting up at the sun, wondering how it could be even hotter within the city walls. He walked through the bustling streets with the Kuja warriors surrounding him as a layer of protection. Whether he liked it or not, they always accompanied him when he left Amazon Lily. The people cowered when they saw them, their infamy spreading even this far across the Grand Line. As he walked, he glanced down at the invitation sitting heavy in his hand. The second they left the Calm Belt; they discovered a Navy ship waiting for them. He had almost ordered his warriors to sink the ship until he noticed a Vice Admiral waving a white flag. It had intrigued him enough to spare their lives and get close enough to receive the invitation. He brushed his thumb across the blue words neatly pressed into the thick expensive paper. Granny Nyon had strongly advised against coming here, which was all he needed to convince himself to come. But still, now that he was here, he wondered if it was such a good idea after all.

When they approached the building where the event was taking place, a marine stopped them.

“Your invitation, please.” He held his rifle in front of him. A subtle reminder that this was anything but a friendly visit. Crocodile handed the invitation over and the marine stepped to the side. When the other Kuja warriors tried to follow, the marine stepped back in the way.

“What is the meaning of this!” Granny Nyon had stamped her cane on the ground angrily.

“Only the Snake Empress may enter. You must wait out here.” He had said it so naturally that even Crocodile commended his bravery.

“Absolutely nyot!” Granny Nyon looked like she was about to burst a blood vessel. Crocodile had grinned and waved them away.

“It’s fine. Wait here.” He had happily left his entourage in the blazing heat as he went on alone.

He had never realized how suffocating it would be being the Empress. It’s not like he ever actually tried out for the position. It had been thrust upon him when he proved himself to be the most skilled fighter. At first, he had been pleased to hear the news, after all, the Empress may leave Amazon Lily whenever they wish. He had first thought it would mean freedom. But now he wished he could go back in time and punch himself in the face for thinking that. This isn’t freedom. It’s being paraded around in an invisible cage.

A different marine had led him into the building and guided him to a waiting room. The dome shaped room was large and dimly lit with several large couches curving along the walls. Crocodile paused when the dark outlines filling the room revealed to be famous pirate captains.

“Please wait here. They’ll call you when they’re ready.” The marine had bowed and turned away.

“Ready for what?” He asked but the marine was already gone. Fighting irritation, he moved to claim an open spot on the couch closest to him. He sunk into the overly soft cushions, slightly wishing he had opted to stand against the wall instead. He could feel the eyes of those around him bore into his skin. Crossing his arms over his chest, he frowned, determined not to be intimidated by these fools.

“Hey, isn’t that the Snake Princess?” a deep moronic voice pierced his ears. Two large men approach him, each with hungry perverted eyes. Crocodile set his jaw, already struggling to contain his anger.

“No, she’s wearing too much to be from Amazon Lily! You’ve seen what they wear.” They both laugh disgustingly to each other. They plop down onto the couch beside him, one on each side. Their weight puffs the cushion up under him, causing him to struggle to keep from leaning to either side. They both stretch an arm across the backrest, letting their stench clog his nostrils, nearly making him gag.

“Well, we can change that.” The one on his left grins, exposing crooked yellow teeth. Crocodile grits his teeth, ready to coat his arms in armament haki and take these assholes out. But just as he’s about to do it, the man on his left stiffens.

“Hey, what’s going on?” the man asked as his arm twitches while awkwardly extending away from his body.

“What are you doing?” the other man asked, clearly annoyed by this behavior.

“I don’t know! I’m not doing this!” the man yelled just before his arm bent and hurled his own fist into his face. The man fell to the floor leaving everyone in the room shocked. The other man got to his feet.

“What the hell is wrong with you!” But the second the words are out of his mouth; he stiffened just like the other one had. Crocodile watched, both amused and startled by what was unfolding before him. Just like the other man, this one watched in horror as his limbs betrayed him and sent a powerful punch to his face. When both men are unconscious on the floor, Crocodile grinned, trying to keep his composure before bursting out in laughter. Everyone in the room stared at him, some shocked, others deadly serious.

“Did she do that?” someone whispered.

“That was unreal.” Another murmured within the shadows of the room. When he’s able to stop laughing, he ran a hand over his hair and glanced around the room. So far, no one seems capable of pulling something like that off, that is until he locked eyes with a man directly across the room from him. He leaned against the only window with the light pouring over his tall frame. Crocodile got to his feet, stepped over the fools on the floor, and crossed over to him. The man was tall and with Crocodile being 8’3, that’s saying something. The man gave a wide grin and side stepped, making room for Crocodile to stand at his side.

“I didn’t need your help,” Crocodile said once he was leaning against the wall.

The man gave a low chuckle, “Oh that, I’m sure. But I hope you’ll forgive me. Filth like that doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as us. So, I did the only right thing to do, and took them out.”

Crocodile smirked, “Next time you should snap their necks.”

This made the man grin wider and give another deep laugh. Crocodile relaxed his shoulders and took in the stranger next to him. Unlike the rest of the trash here, this man wore a tailored suit that was free of any wrinkles or stains. His expensive cologne hung in the air, tempting Crocodile to lean in closer. Everything about him was impeccable. From his polished shoes, clean cut jawline, to even the pink feathered coat hanging from his shoulders. It was clear that this man was in a class above the rest.

The man extended his large hand to him and said, “The names Don Quixote Doflamingo, a pleasure.”

Crocodile stared at his extended hand before crossing his arms and staring out towards the room.

“So, how’d you pull something like that off?” he nodded his head towards the two men still unconscious on the floor. Doflamingo slowly curled the fingers on his extended hand closed and then turned his hand with his palm facing down, bending every other finger.

He leaned in closer and said, “I’ve got magic fingers.”

Crocodile rolled his eyes and said, “A devil fruit then.”

“Bingo.” Doflamingo retracted his hand and slipped it into his pocket. He doesn’t explain what type of devil fruit he’s eaten, and Crocodile doesn’t ask. They stood against the wall, both conscious of the other but never fully turning their gaze in the other’s direction.

When the door across from where they entered opens, a marine stepped out and said, “Don Quixote Doflamingo. We would like to start with you.”

Doflamingo grinned and stepped away from the wall, “My, how lucky of me.”

He didn’t look back at Crocodile as he stalked over to the marine and disappeared behind the doors. With Doflamingo gone, the room felt dull and empty. Crocodile leaned against the wall, ignoring his restlessness. Time seemed to crawl after that. When Doflamingo exited the room, he was laughing that low laugh of his. He never even glanced Crocodile’s direction before leaving the dome room. Crocodile frowned down at the tile floor not sure why that pissed him off as much as it did. He was almost grateful when they finally called his name. He frowned while pushing himself away from the wall, eager to get this over with.

Once inside the smaller room, Crocodile frowned deeper. An Admiral sat behind a desk with a Vice Admiral standing next to him. The Admiral had a serious set in frown while the Vice Admiral munched on rice crackers, looking bored.

“Snake Empress, please, have a seat.” The Admiral gestured to the seat in front of his desk. Crocodile approached it slowly and sat. “I am Admiral Sengoku; this is Vice Admiral Garp. We’ll be conducting this interview.”

Crocodile let out a snort, “Interview? An interview for what?”

“All will be revealed in time.” Sengoku had frowned down at the papers on his desk. Apparently, he didn’t like this idea anymore then Crocodile did. Crocodile rested deeper into the chair. He propped his right ankle on his left knee while digging into his coat pocket. He pulled out a cigar and slipped it between his lips.

“Got a light?” he glanced up at Sengoku.

“I’d prefer it if you don’t smoke.” The vein near his right temple twitched.

“Fine,” Crocodile shrugged and lit the cigar himself. He took a deep draw, taking in the smoky rich flavor before letting out a large cloud of smoke. Sengoku bald his hands into fists, crinkling the papers beneath them. Crocodile smiled, “Please, go on.”

By the time the interview was over, Crocodile had managed to make the vein in Sengoku’s right temple throb more than 20 times. He even managed to make Vice Admiral Garp laugh so hard that he nearly choked on his rice crackers, making Sengoku’s face flush red. He left with a smile while Sengoku rubbed his temple, drained from their interaction. The interview had consisted of a series of questions, all involving Crocodile’s past run-ins with pirates. There was nothing that the Navy didn’t already know, so instead of answering the questions, he opted to either keep silent or answer with a lie so apparent that even the most naive would be able to sniff it out. Ultimately, this had been a waste of everyone’s time.

Crocodile let out another stream of smoke as he rubbed the back of his neck while walking towards the doors exiting the dome room. He wasn’t ready to rejoin the Kuja warriors. While the interview with the Navy had been annoying, it still didn’t measure to the constant nagging that comes from Granny Nyon. When he stepped through the doors to the lobby of the building, he caught a whiff of Doflamingo’s cologne.

“So, how was it?” his voice brings Crocodile to a stop. He glanced over his shoulder to see the man leaning against a wall, waiting for him. Crocodile wanted to kick himself in that moment because the fact that Doflamingo had waited for him, actually made him happy.

“Pointless,” Crocodile had half turned towards him, keeping his expression neutral. Doflamingo grinned while stepping towards him.

“Naturally, but my instincts tell me that this could be the start of something promising. So don’t go brushing it off just yet.” He stops with his shades peering down on Crocodile. “Come on, lets get out of here.”

Crocodile had stiffened. “What do you mean?”

Doflamingo pulled his long pink coat from his shoulders and draped it over Crocodile.

“You don’t want to go back to being a Princess just yet, do you?” He tilted his head, widening his grin. “Come on. I’ll buy you a drink.”

Crocodile swallowed, realizing how dry his mouth had become. He quickly adjusted the pink coat on his shoulders, trying to ignore how the man’s scent now encased him, and followed Doflamingo out of the building. He kept his head down while pulling the side of the coat closer to his face. The Kuja warriors were standing in the shade of a building, waiting for him to come out. Luckily the disguise worked, and he was able to get past them unnoticed.

Crocodile followed Doflamingo deeper into the city until they came to a restaurant. When they enter, the hostess bows and directs them to a table in the back without either of them uttering a word. When they reach the table, its filled with people of all shapes and sizes, all waiting for Doflamingo’s return.

“Doffy!” the table raised their glasses when they spotted Doflamingo.

“So, tell me Doffy, what was this invitation all about?” a man in a suit with a cigarette hanging from his lips asked. Doflamingo gestured for Crocodile to take a seat next to where he sat at the head of the table. The others eyed him suspiciously.

“I’ll explain later, but for now let me introduce you to my friend. They’ll be joining us for dinner.” Doflamingo lifted his glass so a waiter could fill it with wine. When Crocodile’s glass was filled, he greedily sipped it, trying not to focus to much on Doflamingo’s use of they. The night dragged on, mostly uneventful. Crocodile learned that these are the Doflamingo pirates and at one point he even found himself speaking casually with a man named Gladius. For most of the night Doflamingo stayed silent, only speaking when one of his crewmates spoke to him. Finally, by the time Crocodile’s glass had been refilled for the third time, Doflamingo leaned closer so only he would hear.

“So, what do you make of my family?” Doflmaingo sat with one leg bent, the heel propped on the edge of his seat, while the other stretched out almost touching Crocodile’s foot. He rested his cheek against his propped fist, waiting for Crocodile’s response.

Crocodile considered his words carefully, “Why do you care?”

Doflamingo grinned, “I’ve seen how you are with the Kuja warriors. You don’t exactly fit in.”

Crocodile frowned into his glass and took another sip. When he stayed silent, Doflamingo went on, “I get the impression that you’re the type of person that would feel more comfortable wearing a suit and tie rather than a dress, if you catch my meaning.”

Crocodile nearly choked on his wine. He kept his face blank and stared at his mostly empty plate, refusing to make eyecontact. How could Doflamingo read him so plainly? What had he done to be found out? His heart began to race.

“Relax,” Doflamingo topped his glass off, “I’m not gonna out you. I only bring it up to say that you’ll never live the life you want if you stay with the Kuja warriors. Not to mention your talents are wasted on that lot.”

This pulls Crocodile’s eyes towards his. He can see his reflection in the pink shades, unable to read the man at all.

He went on, “Join my crew and be free for once in your life.”

Crocodile’s blood froze. Doflamingo slid a piece of paper his way. “You don’t have to answer now, just give me a call when you’re ready to live the life you want.”

After that, Crocodile had shot up from the table, causing the plates and glasses to clink together. The crew turned their gaze on him, but he didn’t care. He took the paper with Doflamingo’s number and darted for the exit. His heart pounded against his chest as his lungs struggled to suck in enough air. Once out into the street, Crocodile kept moving in no clear direction. All he knew was that he needed to put space between himself and Doflamingo. He squeezed the paper in his hand, crumpling it into a ball. He was furious. Furious that Doflamingo was able to read him like a book. Furious that he was reacting the way that he was. And Furious that he actually wanted to say yes. He had never been able to admit it to himself, so hearing it from a complete stranger sends him spiraling into a state of furious panic.

After what felt like endless running, he finally came to a stop when the sky began to cover with dark storm clouds. He leaned against a shop window, panting, and wiping away the sweat from his brow. He stared down at the wrinkled paper. Part of him wanted to hurl it into the street, but instead he found himself folding it and slipping it into his pocket. A cool breeze hits the back of his sweaty neck like an act of mercy. The heat was finally letting up. He tilted his head back, taking a deep breath of the cool air.

A gasp down the street made his head turn. He stared down to where a large crowd had dropped to their knees and pressed their foreheads to the dirty street. Crocodile frowned, feeling a chill run up his spine. A Celestial Dragon. Luckily, the Celestial Dragon was moving away from him. He started to walk away, not wanting to get swept up in Celestial Dragon drama, when he notices a person in a long cloak standing in the center of the empty street. He blinks, taking in the figure, wondering why it seemed so familiar. Until it clicks and Dragon’s face becomes clear from under his hood.

He hasn’t noticed Crocodile yet. His usual bright and hopeful eyes have turned dark. There’s something about him that sends a chill up Crocodile’s spine. He frowns, his expression deadly. Crocodile pauses, wondering what could make this man react this way. Thunder rumbles overhead. He follows his gaze back down the street and feels his heart stop when he realizes what Dragon has his eyes set on. The Celestial Dragon.   

To be continued…

Chapter Text

In this world, there is little that can inspire fear in Crocodile. But the Celestial Dragons cut it pretty close. Not because of their physical power, but more from the weight of their massive authority. In truth, it wouldn’t take much to kill one, but the consequences that would follow would likely kill him, and everyone on Amazon Lily. Even he’s not dumb enough to oppose their forces. But now, as he leans against a shop window with a storm brewing overhead and a Celestial Dragon claiming all attention further down the street, he realizes there is something even more worthy of fear: a man that is bold enough to defy that force. Though, stupid might be a more accurate word. Dragon stands in the center of the street with a glare pointed towards the Celestial, his dark green cloak billowing in the breeze. Crocodile is frozen in his spot. He wants to turn away, return to the Kuja Pirates, and leave this island and all its troubles. But he doesn’t. He can’t bring himself to look away from the one person that fate keeps putting in his path.

            Dragon takes a step towards the Celestial as a strange power hangs thick in the air. His frown deepens, his eyes serious. Crocodile stares down the street towards the Celestial Dragon. All the civilians are still crouched on the ground in a desperate bow. The Celestial sits on a seat attached to a man crawling on his hands and knees. Even from here, Crocodile can see the man’s scarred bloody knees and the torn red palms of his hands. A thick chain stretches from his collar to the Celestial’s grip. In his hand are two chains. One to the man carrying the bastard on his back, and the other is attached to a woman’s collar as she walks slowly behind him. She wears something only a dancer would wear and clearly malnourished and void of all life. It sours Crocodile’s stomach, but there’s nothing he can do. Not without condemning himself to a similar fate.

            “Hey!” Dragon’s voice booms through the street, rattling the windows of the surrounding buildings. Crocodile whips his head back at him, silently pleading for him to shut up. But its too late. The Celestial Dragon is turning his slave around so that he can see who has caused such a disruption. His small attaché of bodyguard’s frown when they spot Dragon staring them down. Armament haki coats Dragon’s arms. “Where are they?”

            At first, the Celestial just stares. This might be the first time anyone has dared to defy him. Then, his ugly smug face twists into a grin before bursting out in laughter.

            “Do you know who I am?” the Celestial fumbles off his slave who trembles under his weight. He stands on the street looking more cartoonish rather than intimidating. He waves a pistol in the air with all the arrogance of someone who has never learned how to properly use it. “Of course, you do! How could you not? After all, even worms know when they see a being higher than themselves.”

            Dragon narrows his eyes, “All I see is a pathetic man waving a gun in the air like it’s a toy.”       

            The Celestial freezes, his face draining of all color. The people bowing in the streets flinch from Dragon’s words. Even Crocodile eyes him while silently hurling insults at the man who has sealed all their fates. The Celestial tenses, the pistol shaking in his tight grip.

            “You think this is a toy? How dare you speak to me in such a way!” The Celestial fires off three rounds. One misses Dragon entirely, hitting a sign post a few feet back, and the other two he was able to skillfully dodge. When Dragon stands, unscathed by the Celestial’s attack, a few people gasp and lift their heads to gawk in his direction. The Celestial glances around at the people now staring up at his would be assailant. He grinds his teeth and kicks a woman on her side. “How dare you look up at such a villain! Anyone who dares even glance at that worm will be executed!”

            The people quickly duck their heads, pointing their faces to the ground as they tremble with fear. Crocodile sets his jaw. He needs to get out of here. This wont end well. Before he can start inching towards an alley, the Celestial points his pistol in Crocodile’s direction.

            “And you!” snot drips from both his nostrils as he waves his gun at Crocodile. “Why aren’t you bowing? You must be with this wretch!”

            Crocodile stiffens, unsure how to proceed. On one hand, he wants nothing more than to drive his foot into the bastard’s face. On the other hand, he’ll likely be forced to face off with an admiral and, best case scenario, be carted off to jail. Dragon turns his head towards Crocodile, noticing him for the first time.

            “Sir?” if Dragon had eyebrows, they would be raised. “What are you doing here?”

            Crocodile stiffly turns to him, his right eye twitching as he presses his lips together, attempting to contain his anger. Instead of the long rant he has prepared in his mind, he mutters, “I hate you.”

            “Hate me? What did I do?” now Dragon has fully turned his attention to Crocodile.

            “I wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for you.” Crocodile’s eye continues to twitch.

            “What are you even doing here?”

            “I went for a walk!”

            “How is it my fault you walked onto the one street with a Celestial Dragon?” While they bickered, they ended up approaching each other until they were inches away, each yelling in the others face.

            “Anyone with a single braincell would know to just walk away from this situation! But you had to go and open your big mouth!” Crocodile jabs a finger at Dragon’s chest.

            “A single braincell? What’s that supposed to mean?” Dragon jabs a finger back at Crocodile.

            “You would know if you had one!” they practically press their foreheads together while shouting. The Celestial Dragon hops back and forth on his feet while shouting and firing off his gun, demanding their attention. Each time he fired at them; they were able to dodge the bullets while never missing a beat in their argument.

            “How dare you not listen to me!” The Celestial shouts when a bullet fires past Crocodile’s ear.

            “Dammit, what do you want? You’re really starting to piss me off!” Crocodile snarls at the Celestial before slapping a hand over his mouth and muttering under his breath, “Dammit.”

            “Now who has the big mouth?” Dragon grins next to him. The sound of clanking rifles draws their attention past the Celestial to a row of Marines pointing their weapons directly at them.

            Dragon tilts his head and casually says, “Huh, when did they get here?”

            Crocodile shoves Dragon towards an alley as the marines open fire. It’s not long before bullets are flying past them as they maneuver through the labyrinth of alleys.

            Crocodile pulls Dragon down an alley on the right and says, “They’ve been on this island the entire time, along with an Admiral and a Vice Admiral.”

            “How do you know that?” Dragon grabs a garbage can and hurls it back, crushing three marines in the process.

            “They invited a bunch of pirate captains for an interview.” Crocodile leaps forward when two marines turn down their alley. He kicks both across the face and keeps running. Dragon grabs his arm and brings him to a stop.

            “What do you mean?” Dragon stares at him with all the intensity he had with the Celestial Dragon. Crocodile pulls his arm free.

            “Do you really want to get into it right now?” Crocodile pulls his pistol out and fires on a marine. The man goes down, momentarily stalling the two behind him. Dragon frowns but keeps running. Even while going deeper into the city, they can still hear the Celestial Dragon shouting in the distance. Crocodile’s eye twitches with annoyance. How did things come to this?

            A whistling comes from overhead. Crocodile and Dragon glance up just in time for a canon ball to land mere feet away from them. They leap away from the blast and stare back at a giant hole in the side of the alley wall.

            “Why the hell are there canon balls all the way out here?” Crocodile is certain that the docks are too far away for canon fire to reach them. Not to mention that they are running through a city and would be impossible to hit from here. Crocodile glances over to Dragon who has paled.

            “You said a Vice Admiral was here?” His voice is flat as he slowly turns his dead stare on Crocodile. “Which one?”

            “Vice Admiral Garp.” Crocodile watches Dragon’s soul leave his body. Crocodile almost asks him if he’s alright before Dragon grabs his arm and starts sprinting down a different alley.

            “We need to run!” Dragon screams as another canon ball flies over head.

            “You’re more scared of Garp then a Celestial Dragon?” Crocodile yells as debris rains down on them.

            “It’s not that I’m scared of him but its more that I know what he can do!” they bob and weave through raining debris and canon fire. Finally, Crocodile has had enough. He comes to a skidding stop and turns towards the direction of the canon balls.

            “That’s it. I don’t care if he’s some legendary hero. I’m gonna kick his ass!” Crocodile coats his arms in armament haki and starts in Garp’s direction. He doesn’t get far before Dragon grabs him and starts running with Crocodile tucked under his arm. “What the hell are you doing?”

            Dragon says nothing as he continues sprinting further away from Garp. When Dragon bursts into a busy street, he pauses to glance around. Crocodile continues to squirm and shout threats in his arms but is ultimately unable to free himself. A noise comes from Dragon’s cloak pocket. He pulls out a transponder snail.

            “Dragon? Hello! Please tell me you didn’t go after the Celestial Dragon on your own.” A voice comes over the snail.

            “What do you think!” Crocodile yells, answering for him.

            “Oh? Who’s that with you?” the voice asks curiously.

            “Forget it. Ivankov, we got a problem. Garp’s on my trail and I still don’t have any leads where they are holding the slaves.” Dragon starts down the street, ignoring the many concerned stares of Crocodile being carried away against his will.

            “Well, that is a problem. But no matter. I’m heading your way with back up!”

            Dragon slips the transponder snail back into his cloak.

            “We need to get to the harbor. I’m sure if they’re anywhere they’ll be—” he’s cut short when a fist lands against his face, sending him flying back through a brick wall. In the process, Crocodile was let go, causing him to land in the rubble. He coughs while struggling to sit up. a shadow casts over him before the dust clears as Vice Admiral Garp stands over him.

            “You brat! What kind of trouble are you getting into now?” Garp yells towards the direction Dragon’s body went. Crocodile glances back as Dragon climbs out of the rubble, looking fine for the most part.

            “I don’t have time for you, old man.” Dragon stares the Vice Admiral down.

            “Of all the reckless things you could do… going after a Celestial Dragon? How could you do this to your father?” Garp yells. Crocodile stiffens.

            “Father?” He stares at Dragon who sighs and nods. Dragon steps out of the hole in the building so nothing is between him and Garp.

            “There are lives on the line. If I don’t do something, who will?” they continue to stare at each other, both impossible to read. Garp lowers his head with a nod.

            “Still, I have a duty to uphold.” Garp reaches behind him where a group of marines pushes a cart of canon balls. He takes one in his hand.

            Crocodile grits his teeth. He was throwing them with his hands?

            “So do I.” Dragon doesn’t budge.

            Garp rears his arm back and says, “I’m proud of you, boy.”

            He launches the canon ball. Before it has a chance to reach Dragon, Crocodile leaps forward, deflecting it with his armament coated arm. Black powder fills the air after the collision. Garp raises a brow at him.

            “You again, eh?” his expression doesn’t change.

            “What are you doing?” Dragon frowns at him.

            “You said lives are on the line, right?” Crocodile grins over his shoulder. “Go. I’ve got this. Let the pirate deal with the marine.”

            Dragon pauses for a moment before smiling. “Fine. But I’ll warn you. The old man’s tougher than you think. He’s earned the title Hero of the Marines for a reason. He won’t go easy on you.”

            A large figure appears on the roof of a nearby building. Dragon gives them a signal before disappearing and reappearing next to the person. Crocodile arches a brow. That was fast. Dragon gives another smile before running off with his fellow revolutionaries.

            With Dragon gone, Crocodile turns his attention to Garp.

            “So,” Garp crosses his arms with the tilt of his head. “What’s the deal with you and Dragon?”

            “No deal. He’s just some fool I keep running into.” Crocodile coats both arms in armament haki and grins. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little excited about this fight. It’s not every day you get to fight a living legend. Garp gives a grin back.

            “Then I guess he won’t mind if I beat you into dust?” Garp chuckles as he takes another canon ball in hand.

            Crocodile gets into a fighting position, “You can try, old man. Try not to throw your back out.”

            They both ready themselves for the upcoming battle. Just as they are both about to strike, something stabs Crocodile in the back sending an electric shock through his body. Garp pauses, eyes wide for a moment, before they narrow. Crocodile falls to the ground, his body still twitching from the shock.

            “I did it!” the Celestial Dragon hops up and down with excitement. Crocodile grits his teeth, unable to move. He had been so focused on Garp that he let his guard down. Garp frowns while squeezing the canon ball in his hand so tightly that it explodes. The Celestial stares down at Crocodile. His face quickly shifts into a much darker smile.

            “You know, after giving it some thought, I’ve decided to take this one as my next wife.” He straightens up for one of his bodyguards to reach down and grab Crocodile. “Just put her with the others.”

            Crocodile can’t move his body and his vision is starting to blur. He glances back at Garp who stands shaking with helpless rage. He’s just as bound by their authority as Crocodile is. He doesn’t blame him for not doing anything. he continues to stare at the Vice Admiral until his vision blurs completely and he blacks out.

            Crocodile’s entire body aches. He’s lying on his side on a hard wooden floor with his hands bound and something cold has been clasped around his neck. When he’s able to crack one eye open, all he see’s is darkness. He struggles to push himself up into a sitting position. The spot where that damned Celestial Dragon stunned him, stings under his clothes. He sucks in air, scrunching his face at the sweaty hot stench. Scuffling comes from within the darkness. He blinks a few times before his vision finally adjusts and he’s able to make out over a dozen frightened eyes staring back at him.

            His blood freezes. He blinks, not wanting to accept what he’s seeing. He shifts, his chains rattling as he tries to get a better look.

            “My god,” he breathes, counting nearly fifteen of them. “The slaves Dragon was talking about… you’re all children!”      

To be continued…

Chapter Text

            Dark and heavy storm clouds continue to brew overhead as strong winds blow through the city. Dragon stands on the roof of a building, taking in the large harbor only a few streets ahead of him.  

            “There’s a lot more pirate ships then I was expecting.” Ivankov stands at his side. They lift a hand over their brow as they scan the docks. “A lot more Navy ships too.”

            Dragon frowns. Sir had mentioned the Navy was interviewing pirate captains, but why? Dragon points to the far right of the harbor, “There, a World Noble ship and on the far left… another one.”

            Ivankov crosses their arms, frowning as the realization of the situation sets in. Dragon pulls out his transponder snail and calls headquarters.

            “I’m here.” Kuma’s voice responds. With the revolution still growing, Dragon, Kuma, and Ivankov agreed that one of them would always remain at headquarters. Should they face an early end, the revolution must go on.

            “Have your informants discovered any leads to where the slaves are being kept? We’re counting two World Noble ships.” Dragon stands in the shadow of a chimney as a particularly strong gust of wind violently blows his and Ivankov’s cloaks.

            “We have. It appears there are approximately 30 child slaves being prepared to be shipped to Marie Jois.” Kuma explains. Dragon grits his teeth. How can the World Government condone such atrocities? He squeezes his eyes closed when he remembers his father only a few streets back. How could his father support such a government?

            “Dragon, that’s a lot more than we were expecting.” Ivankov mutters, their eyes staring at the ground while silently trying to think of a way to modify the plan to accommodate that many children.

            “That’s not all,” Kuma pulls both their attention back to the transponder snail. “Thanks to our recent attacks on World Noble ships, they have decided to split the children up. Half will be transported on one of the World Noble ships and the other half will be transported by a Navy ship. They couldn’t specify which ones, I’m afraid.”

            Dragon squeezes the transponder snail in his hand with anger. It’s bad enough that the Navy turns a blind eye on these matters, but it’s another thing entirely to aid in it. Thunder rolls as dark clouds begin to slowly swirl in the sky. The salty sea air is strong as a chill runs up both Ivankov and Dragon’s spines. The people below rush to get inside as they struggle to acclimate from the grueling heat to the sudden chilly air.

            “Good work. Keep us posted if anything changes.” Dragon slips the transponder snail back into his cloak. He lifts a hand to his chin as he considers their next move.

            “And you weren’t able to get any information out of the Celestial Dragon? Nothing at all?” Ivankov asks while stepping closer to the chimney when a group of marines runs through the streets below. Dragon sighs and shakes his head. The plan was to beat the answer out of the Celestial before they could call for backup. He was sure it would only take a couple hits before the Celestial would break. Dragon pinches the bridge of his nose while remembering Sir standing on the side of the street, as if he had manifested out of thin air.

            “No, I got… distracted.” He lowers his hand so he can cross his arms.

Ivankov arches a perfectly lined eyebrow. “Could it be because of that person I saw you with? The one you left to deal with your father?”

“Ivankov,” Dragon frowns deeper. “Take half our men and attack the World Noble ship on the right. I’ll take the rest and attack the one on the left. We’ll figure out our next move after we have half the children freed.”

Ivankov turns their head towards the harbor, taking the hint to drop it. They lean against the chimney and say, “Once we attack there’s no going back. There’s at least twenty Navy vessels alone. We won’t have time to check them all, and at that point we’ll have fifteen kids to keep safe. It’ll only make it that much harder.”

Dragon stares at the Navy ships, feeling each second tick by. Finally, he shakes his head and says, “We have no choice. By now, the Celestial will be heading back to their ship and with the Navy already deployed in the city, it’s only a matter of time before they discover our agents. We need to move fast if we plan on saving anyone.”

Ivankov nods, understanding. Not wanting to waste any more time, they both start towards their targets. Dragon pulls his transponder snail out and makes the announcement, mobilizing all revolutionary agents hidden within the city to join Dragon and Ivankov. Dragon fills them in on the new plan while they jump from rooftop to rooftop. The second they attack the World Noble ship; an admiral will be deployed. He sets his jaw. If his father is here, then it’s safe to assume that the admiral is Sengoku. The last thing he wants right now is a full on fight with that man, but it looks like he doesn’t have much choice. When the only thing between him and the harbor is a single row of buildings, he senses his father. He comes to a sudden stop, causing his men to knock into each other as they do the same. His old man leaps from the alley below, landing on the building across from him.

Dragon’s heart drops to his stomach. He knew Sir might not win against his old man—he doubted there was anyone alive who could—but he shouldn’t have been beaten this easily. Garp’s eyes are dark, his head pointed down in shame. Dragon clenches his jaw, his heart pounding against his chest. 

 “What happened?” he shouts. His father doesn’t move. The only sound between them is his cloak and his father’s coat blowing in the wind.

“I’m sorry,” his father says finally. Dragon’s blood freezes when their eyes meet. “The Celestial Dragon… he took your friend.”

Lightning strikes in the background. Dragon clenches his hands into tight fists as his body trembles with rage, “And you let it happen?”

“You know I had to!” Garp’s large hands tighten into fists. He drops his eyes from Dragon’s.

Rain begins to fall as Dragon says, “No, you didn’t… you were afraid. Just like everyone else! You always speak of justice, but how can you? When you willingly allow people to be plucked from the streets to be slaves to nobles who can’t even stand to breathe the same air as you!”

His father grits his teeth, unable to meet Dragon’s eyes. Dragon closes his eyes, letting the rain wash over him as his rage spreads through his limbs and chest. When he opens his eyes, he turns back to his men.

“Let’s move!” He and his men run past his father, who is unable to move, and charges for the World Noble ship.

His heart pounds in his ears as the ship grows closer. Armament haki coats his arms as he charges through a group of marines that are guarding the ship. If they have Sir, then they must be keeping him in the same place as the children. If he finds the children, then he’ll find Sir. Sir’s face flashes behind his eyes, “I wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for you.”   

“Damn it!” he curses. He forces the thought away while jumping up to the deck of the ship. Marines fire their guns, but he dodges each bullet. He’s merciless in his attacks. Normally he would try to keep casualties to a minimum, but now he doesn’t have time for such niceties. His men spread out, making quick work of the marines but they already know backup is on the way. Across the harbor, he can hear Ivankov’s group attacking as sirens blare throughout the city. Dragon kicks a marine over the railing of the ship and darts down a set of stairs.

He kicks down doors and even goes so far as the burst through walls to try and find the children and Sir. So far, nothing. When he’s checked every compartment on the ship, his transponder snail goes off.

“Dragon! We got them! Fifteen rugrats present and accounted for.” Ivankov says.

“Was there anyone else with them? An adult?” Dragon starts back towards the stairs.

“An adult? No, only children. Why?”

Dragon starts up the stairs.

“They got someone else. They must be keeping him with…” he’s cut short. A beam of light blasts just inches from his nose. He freezes, letting the rain pour over him. His men lie on the deck, beaten and unconscious. Dragon slowly turns his gaze on a man wearing a yellow suit standing at the center of the deck with a finger pointed in his direction.

“Oh, what do we have here?” the man says in a calm low tone. “The Revolutionary Dragon I presume? Say, is it true that you’re Vice Admiral Garp’s son? That’s quite the scandal.”

“Does it really matter?” Dragon steps up to the deck and faces the man.

“No, I suppose not.” The man shifts his weight and gives a nonchalant shrug. “Though I have to admit, I was expecting more of a fight from your lackies here. My mistake.”

Dragon narrows his eyes. This one man took down all his men. He’s not an admiral but judging by the beam of light and the lack of any obvious weapons on him, it’s safe to say he’s a devil fruit user. The wind picks up around them as it rains even harder. The sound of an explosion comes from the far end of the harbor. Dragon doesn’t take his eyes off of the marine in front of him. he watches the man slowly lift his hand and point a finger in his direction. Dragon remembers the beam of light that had stopped him when he came up the stairs. He frowns deeper and dodges when a similar beam of light slices through the ship floor.

Dragon reaches for a broken piece of wood lying next to one of his fallen comrades and chunks it at the man. The man doesn’t even try to dodge the attack as it goes right through him. Dragon smiles.

“Logia type then,” he turns, now heading straight for him. He coats his arms and legs with armament haki and rears his hand back, punching the man in the gut so hard that he flies back into a stack of crates. He stands up straight and says, “That’s fine.”

The man stumbles out of the wreckage with a cough. A thin line of blood spilling from the edge of his lips.

“I guess that settles it. Anyone who hits that hard must be Vice Admiral Garp’s son.” The man wipes the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand with an easy smile.

They both lunge for each other, neither able to get the upper hand. As they fight, Dragon hops to different Navy ships, silently hoping he could narrow down which one has the missing children and Sir. Every now and then he hears what sounds like a distant battle along with Ivankov’s voice yelling, “Death wink!” He swings a powerful kick, sending the other man crashing into a ships mast. The mast groans as it cracks, causing it to fall into the ocean.

“Damn it Kizaru!” Sengoku’s voice carries from the direction of Ivankov’s group. Dragon grits his teeth. Why couldn’t that bastard of attacked Dragon instead? The man, Kizaru, emerges from the rising dust and wood particles looking as unbothered as ever. He turns towards Sengoku who yells, “Those are our ships! Don’t let them get destroyed!”

“Oh, right!” Kizaru gives a salute, earning a scowl from the Admiral. Dragon lets out a tired breath and wipes the rain from his eyes. This is taking too damn long. Dragon punches his fists down to the deck of the ship they’re on and tears the boards apart, revealing the ships insides. Kizaru arches a brow.

“Oh, come now, you heard what the Admiral said,” he lifts his foot, shooting one of his beams. This one grazes the edge of Dragon’s shoulder, sending sparks of pain down his arm and chest. “No destroying the Navy ships now.”

He knows he can’t save the kids with a marine this powerful on his tail, but if Sir is with them, then he might be able to lead them away to freedom. If he could only give them an opening. He moves quickly, tearing holes into the deck, trying to see if Sir and the children are being kept on this ship. When he’s made as many as he can, he jumps to the next one. Kizaru continues his attack, making him fight for every inch he takes. He’ll admit, Kizaru is a force to be reckoned with, but as of right now, he’s still sloppy. Thanks to his devil fruit, he probably rose through the ranks quickly, but it’s clear he’s never faced anyone with true caliber.

The rain continues to pour, turning the once dry wooden ship decks into a slippery mess. Kizaru swings his leg, hitting Dragon’s arms that were already braced for the attack. Dragon clenches his teeth when his feet slowly slide back on the slick floor. Kizaru steps back, struggling to find enough traction to keep from slipping himself. They stare at each other, both panting, neither willing to back down. Lightning strikes in the distance along with another explosion in Ivankov’s direction. He can’t afford to worry about them now. not with Kizaru here. Not with Sir and the other children still locked away on a Navy ship.

A cracking noise erupts beneath them. they both glance down but are unable to react in time before the floor gives out and they both fall to the compartment below. Dragon lands on his feet but lets himself drop into a crouched position. His heart his still pounding against his chest, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. Kizaru staggers when he’s able to stand upright. He lifts his hand over his brow to look up at the split open deck. Dragon must have made one to many holes in this ship that the floor couldn’t take it anymore. Water pours through the opening, flooding the room they’re now in. Kizaru tries to jump back through the opening but is stopped when Dragon swings his leg. He kicks him back down to where he had been standing.

“We’ll drown if we stay here much longer.” Kizaru tilts his head, still wearing the same annoying calm expression. Dragon says nothing. The water is already up to their knees. Kizaru takes a deep breath, letting his shoulders rise and fall with the exhale. “You know, you’re becoming a real pain.”

“Feelings mutual.” Dragon gives a tick of his head. Kizaru rears his arm back as if to punch Dragon as a ball of light builds around his fist.

“But I think I’m tired of playing.” Kizaru narrows his eyes as Dragon braces himself, preparing to dodge the attack when the sound of pounding against wood stops them. Kizaru straightens, his hand still building up light. Dragon arches a brow, realizing the noise is coming from behind Kizaru. Before either of them has a chance to react, a wooden door flies off its hinges, going straight through Kizaru’s body of light and smashing into Dragon.

If he hadn’t already been mostly coated in armament haki, it probably would have knocked him down. He chunks the door to the side and freezes when he sees Sir standing in a doorway. His drenched hair sticks to this sides of his face as he pants, taking in the situation. His hands are free with the remnants of one metal band of a chain still clasped around his left hand. The explosive collar the Celestial Dragon’s use is still fastened around his neck. Their eyes meet. A weight that he hadn’t even realized he had, lifts from his shoulders. Sir blinks, the sight of Dragon had been a surprise, before he snaps out of it and turns, revealing a room filled with fifteen frightened children.

“Let’s move!” Sir yells, snaping the kids out of their daze. A giant girl steps out first, holding her hands close to her chest as she shakes with fear. Sir meets her eyes and says a little gentler, “Help me lift them through that opening.”

The giant girl nods and immediately starts grabbing kids and starts lifting them to the top deck. Kizaru and Dragon are so shocked that they both find themselves stuck in their own daze. Sir notices the light building on Kizaru’s hand. He frowns while quickly reaching down, scooping the last three children in his arms, before jumping through the hole after the giant girl has climbed through.

When he’s on the top deck, he turns back to stare down at Dragon and says, “You better not let him kick your ass.”

When he’s gone, Dragon feels a little lighter while he and Kizaru continue to stand in the thigh high water, staring at the gaping hole. The only sound is of the water still rushing into the room and the distant sound of children’s feet running across the deck. Dragon glances at Kizaru, the light building on his fist now gone. He realizes then that Kizaru was unaware of the children being held captive on one of their own ships. Dragon doesn’t wait to see if the man has any humanity left and takes this opportunity to attack.

With the kids and Sir safe, he doesn’t have to hold back anymore. His attacks are relentless. He uses a much greater speed, making the marine struggle to keep up. He hits Kizaru in the gut, sending him flying through the side of the ship and straight into the one next to it. He climbs up to the deck and leaps over to the neighbor vessel. Swinging his leg, he shatters the deck, and drops down to deal another blow. Kizaru’s body slumps against the ship wall, motionless. Dragon grabs his collar, forcing him up, only to realize the man has lost consciousness. With a relieved sigh, he drops him back to the floor and turns to return to the upper deck

The rain is starting to let up as he peers out at the harbor. Many of the ships have been damaged from his and Kizaru’s fight making the marines scurry through the piers trying desperately to salvage what they can. He can make out Sir running behind a group of children as they maneuver around the distracted marines. He doesn’t look away until they are out of sight, safely hidden within the city walls. He’ll find them later, for now, all that matters is that they are away from the ships. Turning towards the other side of the harbor he realizes that he no longer hears the sounds of distant fighting. A large cloud of smoke rises from the other World Noble ship. Dragon starts in that direction, his heartrate unable to slowdown. Not until he knows everyone is safe.

He finds the World Noble ship crawling with marines. He’s able to avoid them by jumping from the ship masts. Most fail to even notice him and those who do are to worn out from their previous battle to react in time before he’s already out of shooting distance. He scans the ships and piers for any sign of his revolutionaries but finds nothing. He decides that this is a good thing. If they aren’t here, then they must have gotten away. Or maybe they’ve all been arrested and are already hidden away in a Navy ship. he shakes the thought out of his head. He uses the wind to boost his jump back to the city rooftops. When lands on a roof, his transponder snail goes off.

“Dragon?” Ivankov’s voice sends a wave of relief through his tense body.

“I’m here.” He says, feeling his body finally relax, at least a little. “Where are you? The other children have been freed and are currently hidden in the city.”

“We’re hiding out in an old shut down restaurant. We’re fine, beat up, but fine.” They say, their voice heavy with exhaustion. “But Dragon, somethings not right.”

Dragon knows the one they’re talking about and heads in their direction. “What do you mean?”

“It’s Sengoku. He was fighting us and, well, winning before he got a call. Then he just… left!” Ivonkov explains. “It doesn’t sit right with me that he would just let us go. Not Sengoku.”

“You’re right.” Dragon frowns as he tries to think of a reason Sengoku would willingly let someone get away. It would have to be an order from someone higher up then him. Dragon’s feet slowly come to a stop. The Celestial Dragon. Thunder rolls overhead. Dragon lifts the transponder snail back up, “What direction did he go?”

“It looked like he was moving in your direction. I assumed that meant he was going after you until he darted into the city.”  

Dragon’s feet start moving on their own. The wind picks up around him. He stares in the direction that Sir and the other children had run in. It doesn’t make sense. To the Celestial Dragon, Sir should just be another slave. Someone easily replaceable. The Celestial Dragon should be more concerned about getting out of here then reclaiming him. Dragon breaks out into a sprint as a new thought forms. Unless this isn’t about reclaiming a slave. This is about getting revenge. He picks up speed, frantically jumping between the rooftops panic spreading through his chest. The Celestial wants retribution for being disrespected in such a public way. Dragon openly defied him with every intention to do harm, so he won’t want to hurt him directly. He’ll make the Navy do that for him later when he’s safely back at Marie Jois. But he’ll do it another way. By hurting the only other person he saw with Dragon. The person that pushed him out of the line of fire. The person he’s already captured once.

Sir.

To be continued…

Chapter Text

When he first woke up in that dark room, the children had pushed themselves against the back wall, trying to put as much distance between them and Crocodile. Afraid that he would be just as cruel as every other adult they’ve come across since being taken. Crocodile didn’t know how to react at first. He could only stare, refusing to accept what he was seeing. The cuffs around his wrists rub his skin raw as he carefully pushes himself against a wall, wincing at his shoulder.

            “It’s alright,” he says without thinking. He’s never been a kid person. Kids are loud, messy, needy things that he has never had the patience for in the past. But sitting in this dark damp room, staring at fifteen tear stained eyes, he’s overwhelmed with a feeling that he’s never felt before. A feeling so strong that deep down to his core he knows that he will not let anything happen to these children. He has to stop and correct his face into a gentler expression before saying, “I’m not going to let them hurt you.”

            Those simple words were all it took for most of the children to run forward and throw their arms around him. The other’s stay put. Their trust in adults wouldn’t be so easily given. Not after what they’ve been through. In their eyes he can’t help but see a bit of himself. He had been the same way at their age. It had been his own mother that taught him to be that way. To be wary of anyone the world says is trustworthy.

*

He never had a relationship with his mother. Despite being raised by the woman, he barely knew her. Apparently, she had been a mighty warrior, but other than that? Nothing. Before Crocodile was born, she was part of the Kuja Pirate crew and was said to be completely devoted to the Snake Empress. But Crocodile never got to see that side of her. By the time Crocodile was born, that adventurous, fearless woman had been turned into a silent recluse. A woman happy to spend her days smoking a pipe while staring out at the horizon. Crocodile can still see her in his mind, her dark hair spilling over the top of her chair with muddy boots lazily propped on their balcony railing. Never saying a word unless to tell him to go and fetch more tobacco or to ask when dinner was ready.  

He spent his entire childhood staring at the back of her head, trying to get a response—any response—out of her. One day he had been practicing his archery when one of his arrows went a little too far off course into the jungle. While trying to retrieve it, he had slipped and scrapped his knee against a rock. It wasn’t a normal scrape; it had cut deep into his skin, exposing tender flesh. Not knowing what to do, he went to his mother, crying and begging for her help. He had grabbed her bony arm, shaking it helplessly while wailing in pain. He can still remember the way it felt as the blood spilled down his calf, dripping on their old splintery floor. Even with her child pleading for help while in excruciating pain, still, she didn’t turn to him. Instead, she lifted her pipe to her thin dry lips and blew out a steady stream of smoke. The pain in his leg became overshadowed by the overwhelming ache that came with the realization that there was nothing he could do or say to make her turn to him. She would never open her arms and hold him the way other mothers did to their daughters. She would never smile and give encouraging words when his self-doubt started to get the best of him. He knew then that the day he would wake up to find her happy and finally well enough to be a mother, would never come.

 Crocodile had stopped going to his mother after that. Stopped telling her about his day despite knowing she would never respond or even nod to his words. Stopped asking if she was feeling well or if she was hungry. Stopped trying to bridge the never ending gap that separated them. After that moment he became crushingly aware of just how quiet and empty their home was. Without him filling the space with pointless chatter, that silence ate away at him until, without realizing, he was slowly becoming a recluse too.

He had tried dressing the wound himself. His trembling hands fumbling with the handmade ointment he concocted out of the plants from the nearby jungle. He remembers dabbing at the wound, struggling to see properly through fat heavy tears before ultimately giving up and wrapping it with a few strips of an old shirt he used as bandages. He spent the next few days trying to ignore the overwhelming pain in his leg until it started to smell, and a neighbor woman forced him to go to the doctor. The doctor had scolded him when she discovered his infected wound. Apparently, the homemade bandages he used weren’t clean and only made the wound worse. He had quietly apologized and sat motionless for the rest of the visit, trying not to flinch with every touch.

When he had tried to leave after being treated, the doctor stopped him, refusing to let him leave until his mother came and picked him up. She sent someone to fetch his mother and told him to stay in the waiting room. Crocodile had been unable to tell her that his mother would never come, the words stuck in his throat. So instead, he sat in the waiting room and read through the few books she had laying out. Eventually a few girls his age sat across from him. They swung their legs as they spoke to each other, glancing in his direction from time to time.

Eventually he heard one whisper, “Why is she so dirty?”

Crocodile’s heart had practically stopped. He stared down at his clothes, the dirt stains and tears suddenly becoming obvious for the first time. The girl next to her nudged her, “Look at her leg. She probably just fell and got dirty.”

Crocodile had breathed a quiet sigh of relief, grateful for this girl. It wasn’t true of course. That was how he always looked back then. As the day crawled by, eventually the doors to the waiting room opened and to his complete surprise, in stepped his mother. Everyone in the room had stared at her, some shocked, others silently disgusted. Crocodile’s heart dropped to his stomach. Never in a million years did he expect her to actually come. But there she was, with her greasy hair draped over her shoulders, frizzy and tangled from never being washed or brushed, her clothes covered in stains and holes, her sunken face and already sharp features making her look practically ancient. It had been so long since Crocodile had actually seen his mother’s face that he was unable to do anything but stare in shock. That is until, the girls across from him had turned to each other, both wide eyed, the corners of their mouths quirking into smirks as one snorted, “Oh.”

“Let’s go.” His mother’s voice was like gravel from her constant smoking. Her glassed over hooded eyes trained on a spot in the room, never turning in his direction. Even then, she was refusing to look at him. He wanted to leap from his chair and run. Run out of that room, run to the edge of the island, and jump on a ship that would take him far away. So far that he could start over, live another life. A life where he would never be looked at and hear that awful, Oh, ever again.

But he didn’t do that. Instead, he hastily slid from his chair and limped out of the office, desperate to get away from the prying eyes. The doctor had been standing in a doorway, watching. She wouldn’t let Crocodile leave because she had wanted his mother to help him walk home. Instead, his mother walked slowly behind him, making her own child limp helplessly out of the office. Crocodile’s face flushed red with hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

When he finally managed to limp home, he had thrown himself down on his bed. A bed that consisted of a single old child mattress that he was quickly outgrowing. He pulled the old dated sheets over his head and let himself cry. He remembers covering his mouth trying to muffle his choked sobs as tears dripped down his nose soaking the old mattress. His leg throbbed with pain, but he didn’t care. His mother walked through their tiny dilapidated house and reclaimed her spot in her chair. He hears her rummaging in her tin box where she kept her tobacco, then she cursed.

“Hey,” his mother coughed, “go get me more tobacco.”

Crocodile sniffed, struggling to swallow the knot in his throat before saying, “I can’t… walk…”

His mother had cursed again, angrier this time, before getting up and stomping across the room and slamming the door behind her, shaking the house. Eventually he pulled the sheet down from his face and sat up. He stared at his clothes. They were hand-me-downs, given to him from some local women. They never fit properly, and every piece of clothing had some form of hole or set in stain that no amount of washing could get out. He reached for the little nook by his bed where he kept books, homework, and everything else he owned. He pulled out a small hand mirror that had a crack going down the center. Staring at his reflection he noticed for the first time just how much he resembled his mother. He pressed his lips together, desperately trying to hold back tears. His face was just as sunken in as hers, his features sharp and unpleasing to the eye. His dark hair was just as greasy, his face was smudged with dirt and the sauce from breakfast, and to top it all off, his body was covered in a thin layer of dirt.

The mirror shook as his whole body trembled. He decided then that he would never be like his mother. That no one would ever be able to look at them and go, oh. As if this was all he could ever be. His clothes would never have holes in them, and he would make sure he never smelled. He would sacrifice meals if it meant being able to free himself from a life of dirt and silence.

Once his leg healed enough to walk on, he made his way to the river to bathe every morning and then again at night. There were public hot springs that the rest of the village used, but he couldn’t make it that far. Even when his leg healed, he couldn’t get himself to go bathe with the rest of the village. The weight of their stares too heavy to bear. He saved money by buying a cheaper brand of tobacco for his mother and stuffing it into a box of her usual brand. When going to get food he would shove some extra cash into the spine of his favorite book and use whatever that was left to buy groceries. This meant he would go with little to nothing to eat some days. He had to give it all to his mother, otherwise she might realize what he was doing and stop it. Not because she would be worried for his health but because it would make her angry to know she hasn’t been smoking her expensive tobacco.

Whatever money he was able to steal, he used to buy soap, new clothes, and detergent. For the first time in his entire life, he was wearing clean clothes, his hair shined not from grease but from being clean. His skin was smooth and fresh with a light scent of flowers. Sure, he was hungry most of the time, his ribs becoming a little too noticeable, but he didn’t care. Because for the first time in his life, he had been so proud of himself. He no longer shirked away from mirrors or kept his head down when walking through the streets. He wore clothes that he picked out himself! Brand new clothes, never worn by anyone else. For the first time, he was proud of who he was.

But in the end, none of that mattered. The damage had already been done. The kids at school had already made up their minds about him and were contempt to keep him at arm’s length. At one point, a girl spread a rumor that he had lice which only cemented everyone’s opinions, despite it not being true and him being the cleanest he’s ever been. Even the clothes he had been so proud of, wasn’t enough to sway them into friendship. While all of the other kids wore similar shawls and little loincloths, leaving most of their skin exposed, he had picked out clothes that nearly covered every inch of his body. He wore pants that hid his bruised and scarred legs and a shirt that didn’t expose his stomach or chest. These clothes made him feel good inside, but to the other girls, it was just another reason why he didn’t belong.

 And it wasn’t just the kids. When he tried being friendly to teachers or elders like all the other girls, they would always have this look on their face. As if they couldn’t understand why this strange child was speaking to them. The ease of conversation when other children went up to them, excited to share whatever news they had, would vanish the moment he opened his mouth. So, he stopped trying to reach out to the adults too. And just like back home, when he stopped trying to initiate conversation, desperately trying to form a connection, he realized that even there his life was surrounded by suffocating silence.

Despite all this, he couldn’t give up school. As much as he hated the mocking from the other kids and the teachers never taking his side, he couldn’t stop going. At school he could read books about the outside world. He could find an escape and get lost in a story. His favorites were the stories about pirates. He would sneak a book home and read under candlelight while his mother passed out on her mattress pressed against the wall across the room from his. He would imagine himself as a pirate captain on the wide open seas. In his head he wore the finest clothing, had fine dining every night, and never worried about money ever again. He found a picture of a pirate in one of his books. Everything about him was different from the people from Amazon Lily. From the way he dressed all the way to his male anatomy. When Crocodile would fall asleep dreaming of becoming a pirate, he never saw himself like the women in Amazon Lily, instead he always pictured himself looking like that pirate.

One day, after arriving at school and going straight for the library, he found nearly all the books gone. Every book containing life from the outside world had vanished. He had torn through the few books that were left. They were all about plant life, fighting styles, and things like that. Anything that had even mentioned a man was torn from the pages or written over. He had been frantic, horrified to find his one escape gone.

“They don’t want us reading those books anymore.” A girl had said. Crocodile had stared at her, trying to fight back frustrated tears. She tilted her head, letting her perfectly silky hair fall over her shoulder. “They’re worried more girls might turn out like you.”

Crocodile didn’t plan on attacking her. It just happened. One moment she was standing over him, grinning down, enjoying his pain. The next, he was on top of her, swinging punch after punch. Her once glossy blonde hair was now matted with dirt from the library floor and her picture perfect face now a bruised mess with a bloody busted nose. It had taken a teacher to get him off her. When he had successfully been dragged away, he took in the faces of his other classmates. They had never looked at him with anything other than annoyance or disgust. But now they were looking at him with a new expression. Fear.

The years went by pretty fast after that. That little stunt in the library hadn’t awarded him any new friends, but it did change the dynamic between him and the others. Now they were more hesitant to speak badly about him. At least to his face. They still hated him, made fun of him behind his back, but at least now he didn’t have to hear it every single day. He still stole from his mother, determined to stay clean and neat despite no one else caring. When his body started growing and changing, the body dysmorphia came back with a vengeance. He had once felt proud of how he looked and the way he dressed. But now? With his breasts poking under his shirt, his hips and shoulders somehow being to wide and narrow at the same time, they no longer fit him the way he wanted them to. And just like before, he found himself avoiding mirrors.

When he was old enough, he decided to focus all his energy on training. Learning how to shoot a bow and arrow, hand to hand combat, learning and mastering haki, all of this would become his new escape. He’d like to say he was able to build a relationship with his trainer, like all the others did, but he didn’t. She was more willing than others to work with him, but she made sure to never cross that line from trainer to potential mentor or friend. Crocodile didn’t care. By that point he was used to not being close to anyone. When the day finally came for the tryouts for the Kuja Pirates, he had stopped himself in the doorway of the house. His mother, still in her chair but now with greying hair hanging over the back, smoking her pipe, never turning away from the horizon.

“I’m trying out for the Kuja Pirates… mom.” His voice had sounded so strange. He couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken to her. But this was a huge milestone for him. This had been what he was working towards. It should have provoked some form of response out of her. From the few stories he had gathered about his mother, being part of the Kuja Pirates had been what she was proud of most. But it still didn’t surprise him when she didn’t move. He had lingered in the doorway, the heavy silence gnawing at his chest, before turning away and closing the door.

There was to be a tournament to see who the Kuja Pirates would recruit for their crew. Crocodile had been waiting for this moment almost his entire life. he would be picked to join their crew, leave the island, and the first chance he got, he would sneak off, never to be heard from again. He would leave this place behind once and for all. But that’s not what happened. At the time, Granny Nyon had been standing in as a temporary Empress after the last one died of a mysterious illness. When the tournament was over and Crocodile stood the victor, she decided then that he would become the next Empress.

Those that didn’t know him, cheered out of excitement. And those that did, stared in complete horror. Crocodile had been speechless. His heart pounded so hard against his chest it felt like it would burst out at any moment. He doesn’t remember much after that. He only remembers standing in the palace, Granny Nyon at his side, speaking excitedly about his new responsibilities and everything that would be expected of him. Then he had turned to a room filled with people, all staring directly at him, waiting for him to speak.

It was all too much. He had spent his entire life wanting someone, anyone to look at him without something other than annoyance or disgust and now that he does, all he wants to do is run away, crawl into a hole and seal it up. His voice caught in his throat, only able to make incomprehensible noises.

Granny Nyon had clapped her hands and said, “She’s too happy to speak!”

The women had cooed and awed while Crocodile struggled to breathe. His quiet world was now filled with unrelenting noise. It seemed like people popped in and out of his chambers whenever they pleased. When he was able to get a moment of peace, there was always someone waiting nearby ready to drag him back to the spotlight. And they touched him. They touched his hair, his face, his clothes. He felt like everywhere he turned, someone was reaching out to touch him. He hated every second of it.

*

So now, as children cling desperately to him, it takes everything for Crocodile to not recoil in disgust. To not shove them away or cringe when their sticky hands grab his arms or wrap around his waist. He stays still because if he moves, it will be away from the children. He cannot allow himself to become another disappointing adult to children in dire need of help. He swallows, trying not to wince when a child hits his wounded shoulder and carefully opens his chained hands, letting a little boy rest his head onto his palms. The boy’s hair is damp and matted with sweat. He’s so young, probably only a year old. How could they take someone so young and for what purpose?

            Crocodile stays completely still, trying not to let his uncomfortableness scare off the children. Suddenly, the ship rocks, causing everyone to lose balance as the sound of clashing forces explodes in the distance. When there’s another much louder clash, it’s much closer and causes a stronger lurch of the ship. Some of the children scream while latching themselves even tighter to Crocodile. Even some of the more cautious kids are now inching closer.

            “What is that?” A girl asks. She’s a giant but still noticeably young. She’s sitting across from Crocodile, her knees hugged tightly to her chest. Her right eye is covered with a bandage. A recent wound. Crocodile gently wiggles himself free of the children and stands. He tilts his head, trying to pinpoint where the fight is coming from when their ship is hit again, sending Crocodile flying against a wall. He pushes himself back, groaning slightly at the intense pain shooting down his spine and up his neck.

            “Alright,” he says, sweat starts to bead down his forehead. The pain in his shoulder is intensifying. He stares at his shackles. He won’t be able to help them like this. He looks to the room and says, “Stand back.”

            They do as he says, giving him enough room to coat his arms with haki and break himself free. He lifts his hands to his collar before the giant girl grabs his wrist, stopping him.

            “Don’t, it’ll explode if you try and take it off!” she warns with the shake of her head.

            Crocodile sighs with an understanding nod. “Of course it will.”

            There’s another crash from outside the room, this time much louder. When he can make out muffled voices on the other side of the door, he turns to the children.

            “I’m going to take your cuffs off, okay? It won’t hurt but you can’t move.” He explains, hoping it comes out gentle enough to not be frightening but firm enough for them to understand the severity of the situation. They look scared but don’t protest. One by one, Crocodile breaks them free of their chains. He can’t do anything about the collars. He’ll have to hope and pray he can think of something when they get out of here.

            Something cold rushes over Crocodile’s feet. He looks down to see water rushing in from under the door. As he frees the last child, water begins to seep through the ceiling, dripping on their heads. The children are frantic now, some trying to climb up his legs to avoid the water, others still pressing themselves to walls unable to escape. Water pours down onto Crocodile’s head, making his hair fall into his face. He swallows an angry growl while trying to push his hair from his face and keep himself from tripping on the clingy children.

            He stops, takes a deep breath, and reaches down to gently move a child so he can walk towards the door. Someone is definitely on the other side. It could be marines. It could be Dragon. He shakes that thought away. No point getting his hopes up. Either way, if they stay in this room much longer, they’ll all drown.

            “Everyone, back up.” Crocodile instructs. They do as he asks. Crocodile steps back before kicking the door. It rattles and shakes from his kick but doesn’t budge. He does it again but still, nothing. He grits his teeth, preparing himself for an even stronger kick before delivering the blow and watching the door fly off its hinges. He freezes when he sees a man in a yellow suit and marine coat standing in front of him. The man doesn’t move, momentarily frozen in shock. Crocodile turns his eyes to another man, standing past the marine. Dragon.

            He hadn’t actually expected to see him or thought that he would actually come. But here he is with his dark wild hair dripping wet, his tall sturdy frame tense from battle. Crocodile watches his glare slowly shift into something lighter. Into relief. He struggles to understand why Dragon would be here. Is he relieved to see him? Then Crocodile blinks, realizing as he turns back to the room that, no, he’s relieved to see the children, alive and safe. The reason why he was here in the first place. Crocodile buries the familiar feeling of disappointment deep down and puts all his energy into getting these kids out.

            “Let’s move!” he says, breaking the kids from their terrified trance. The giant girl steps out first, her eyes locked on the two terrifying men standing in the rising water. Crocodile swallows and forces his voice to soften, “Help me lift them through that opening.”

            Crocodile points to the gaping hole in the ceiling. Water pours in from the heavy rain, collecting on the floor, steadily rising. He hates to ask her for help. She’s just as terrified as the others but with his wounded arm he knows he won’t be able to lift all of them up that high. While they work together to lift the children up, Crocodile realizes that the marine has a beam of light building on his fist. So far, he and Dragon haven’t moved. He curses, gritting his teeth while bending down to scoop the last three children in his arms. His shoulder throbs with pain but he manages to jump through the ceiling. The rain is coming down even harder than he was expecting. He glances back down at Dragon and the marine. They are both staring at him, still stuck in a daze. The marine’s building light fades and Crocodile realizes that this is a chance for Dragon to get the upper hand.

            Crocodile shifts the three children in his arms and calls down to Dragon, “You better not let him kick your ass.”

            This breaks Dragon free from his trance, giving Crocodile enough peace to run away with children to freedom.   

Chapter Text

Despite most of the children being young and small, Crocodile struggles to hold three of them in his arms. A new shock of pain shoots down his spine with every step. The wound in his right shoulder from where the Celestial had stunned him is still fresh with no signs of healing. Eventually the children’s weight becomes too much, and he must let two down and force them to run on their own. The last one he holds tight in his arms. It’s the boy who had rested his head in Crocodile’s palms. He holds the boy tighter, placing a hand to the back of his head as the boy’s thin arms wrap around his neck. His tiny bony body shivers from the cold rain. Crocodile wishes he had kept Doflamingo’s coat. He can hardly believe that happened only earlier today. Sitting in that restaurant with him and his pirate crew feels like decades ago now.

            It wasn’t too hard to sneak the kids past the marines. Most are frantic as several of their ships struggle to stay afloat. It must be the aftermath of Dragon’s fight. When they are finally running through the empty streets, its then that Crocodile realizes that he has no idea where they are going. He thinks of the Kuja Pirates still hidden away somewhere in the city. He could take them there. He glances around, trying to make out the names of streets, hoping he could get his bearings enough to find the way back to the hotel they had planned on staying at.

            They turn a corner as the rain finally starts to let up. Crocodile runs a hand over his head to smooth his soppy wet hair. A few of the children cough and wheeze, their weak bodies are not used to running in the cold rain. He realizes that most don’t even wear shoes. He forces himself to focus on the matter at hand. Get them to safety and then get them proper clothes and food. They take another turn before Crocodile comes to a sudden stop. A few of the children bend over with their hands on their knees, trying desperately to catch their breath. Crocodile’s gaze is stuck on the large man blocking their path as his marine coat billows in the wind.

            Garp.

            The Vice Admiral slowly approaches him and his group of terrified children. Crocodile holds a hand out, trying to corral them behind him. Garp stops a few feet away, his eyes staring down at the kids before meeting Crocodile’s eyes.

            “I can save you or I can save the children. Pick one.” His voice is sharp and low. His light natured behavior gone.

            Crocodile stiffens, lets the words register before snapping, “The kids of course, you sick fuck!”

            Garp’s face doesn’t change for a moment before cracking a smile with his head tilted down.

            “Good. I was going to save the kids either way.” He slips a hand into his pocket, but his shoulders stay tensed. Crocodile frowns. What was that? A test? Crocodile doesn’t budge, keeping his hand protectively in front of the children.

            “How do I know you won’t just turn them back over to the Celestial?” Crocodile narrows his eyes, not moving away from the children. Garp looks down at the wet cobble stones beneath his feet, shame spreading across his face.

            “I’ll make sure they’ll get to Dragon and his people.” his voice is so quiet that Crocodile barely heard it. Crocodile swallows, glancing at the kids. They stare at him, their eyes silently pleading not to let him take them. They’ll never look at the Navy the same after this.

            Crocodile turns back to Garp before he changes his mind and takes off with the kids himself. “So, what? You take the kids and then cart me off to jail?”

            Garp stares at him with dark empty eyes, “No.”

            Crocodile shifts, a chill racing up his spine, “Then… what?”

            “I take the kids and leave. I report them as missing. Nothing else.” He pauses but doesn’t look away. “An order was sent out, overruling all others. Sengoku has been personally assigned to capture you. Only you.”

            The rain that had let up now slowly begins to trickle back down. It’s as if the wind has been knocked out of him.

            He blinks, struggling to find the words, “Me? Why me?”

            “You tell me.” Garp finally tears his eyes away. He steps towards the children. Their tiny hands grab at Crocodile in a frenzy, snapping him out of his daze. He turns, sees their wide teary eyes. They’re speaking all at once but it’s all the same. Don’t let him take us.

            Crocodile kneels, drawing them in close and says, “Listen to me. This man is going to take you to someone named Dragon. He has no eyebrows and a grumpy face. If he tries to give you to anyone else, you run. Run like hell and look after each other.”

            They’re still pleading for him to stay but if what Garp says is true then they would be safer away from him. The little boy in his arms clings to him even tighter, his tiny body still trembling but not from the cold. It takes everything for Crocodile to peel the child from his arms and hand him over to the giant girl. He looks into her eyes as an ache stretches across his chest. It’s not fair what’s happened to them. They don’t know who to trust and are more scared than a child should ever be. He thinks about running. Taking the children and making it to the Kuja pirates and going to Amazon Lily.  

            Then he thinks of Dragon. If Crocodile runs, then Sengoku will go after him instead. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the piece of paper Doflamingo had given him with his number on it. Crocodile stares at it. He blinks, swallowing a knot growing in his throat before crossing out the number and flipping it over to quickly scribble a note and folding it.

            “You’re stronger than you think Be brave.” He wants to say more, give them some encouraging words that could sway them into feeling like they can take on the world, but he can’t. Instead, he stands and steps back, letting Garp stand in front of them. Crocodile hands the paper to him. “Give this to Dragon.”

            Garp nods, taking the paper and slipping it into his coat. “Fine.”

He turns back towards the kids as Crocodile warns, “Hurt so much as a hair on their heads and I’ll kill you.”

Garp grins but says nothing else before leading the kids down a different street.

            Crocodile stands alone, letting the cold rain wash over him. He’s trembling but not from the cold. Sengoku is coming. His heart pounds against his chest. When he had faced Garp he had felt excited. Part of him knew he wouldn’t die, that he’d find a way to get away before anything drastic happened. But this time it’s different. This time he’s not so sure. He places a hand on his chest, feeling his racing heartbeat. His fingers slide up until they’re touching the cold metal of the collar still latched around his neck. He presses his lips together, his eyes closed as he musters the courage to do what he’s about to do.

            He moves fast. This city is large, but it won’t be long before Sengoku is able to find him. He needs weapons, lots of them. He races down a street until he spots a group of marines standing around a small temporary base they’ve set up between an alley. Crocodile coats his arms in armament haki and attacks fast, taking them down before they’re able to fire a single shot. His hands shake while gathering as much explosives and guns as he can carry and even coming back for some heavier weapons.

            If he even has a shot at surviving this, then he needs to control the battlefield. He’ll need every advantage he can get. He finds a wide street with mostly abandoned shops and decides this is as good a place as any and begins setting up. His eyes frantically scan over the buildings, trying to cultivate a plan of attack, a strategy that could mean life or death. When everything is in place, he pauses. It’s not enough.

            He runs down a different street until he spots a firework store. He’s not sure how they’ll work in the rain, but they’ll have to do. He breaks the shop window and steps inside, his feet crunching on the broken glass as he fills his arms with as many fireworks as possible.

            When he’s returned to the street and finished setting up the last firework, he steps back. His heartbeat pounds in his ears as he takes in his work. The wound in his shoulder aches from the constant moving and toting of heavy weapons but he ignores it. This is as good as its going to get. He slings a rifle over his shoulder and starts towards the tallest building at the end of the street. He kicks the door down and climbs the stairs until he’s reached the roof entrance. The once heavy rain has turned into a light drizzle as he steps out onto the ledge, taking in the city. The dark clouds hang low in the sky with thunder rolling overhead. Lightning is striking in the distance, illuminating the city in bright bursts. Even with the thunder and lightning, he can hear the marines tearing through the streets. He closes his eyes, taking slow controlled breaths.

            When he finds a sense of calm, he opens his eyes and lifts his right hand and fires off the first flare.

            It takes three flares before he spots Sengoku. He’s racing towards him at an unnatural speed. Crocodile lowers his arm and aims the last flare at him. It misses, of course but there was no harm in trying. Crocodile turns and starts down the stairs. When he steps out into the street, he pulls the rifle from his shoulder and waits.

            Sengoku rounds the corner and Crocodile opens fire. Despite using a bow and arrow most of his life, he’s an excellent shot with a rifle. But that doesn’t mean much when up against someone like Sengoku. His movements are insanely fast. If he hadn’t spent his entire life honing his observation haki, his eyes wouldn’t have been able to keep up. When he fires off his last shot, he jumps back just before Sengoku can land a blow. His fist crushes the road where Crocodile had just been standing. Crocodile stands a few feet back, grinning as he tosses his empty rifle to the side and unholstering two pistols.

            “Funny, just earlier today I was thinking about how much I’d like to beat you into the ground.” Sengoku stands, cracking his knuckles with narrowed eyes.

            Crocodile smirks and lazily lifts his left pistol up against his shoulder, “Don’t try to be cute, Sengoku. With a face like that? Just doesn’t sit well.”  

            Sengoku’s face flushes and clenches his fists. Crocodile shoots first, moving before Sengoku can reach him. He’s moving back, never turning away from Sengoku. But he’s getting closer, his attacks getting harder and harder to dodge. Finally, Sengoku lands a punch, sending Crocodile flying back. He lands on his back, skidding into the dirt only worsening his wounded shoulder. Crocodile moves his jaw; glad it’s not broken while trying to get his head to stop spinning. The pain in his left cheek stings like a hot iron but it doesn’t stop him from propping himself up and grinning, blood staining his teeth. They’re between the flower shop and the boarded up café.

Sengoku stalks towards him. “I’m going to wipe that grin off your filthy face.”

Crocodile gives a laugh and pulls out a detonator. Sengoku’s eyes go wide but it’s too late. Crocodile hadn’t planned on getting caught in the blast, but beggars can’t be choosers. The two stores erupt in a beautiful explosion as debris and shrapnel spray in all directions. Crocodile shields his face with his arms while bracing himself for impact. He hisses when something sharp slices through his side. The back of his throat stings as he chokes on the dust in the air. When things have settled enough, he forces himself to move, coating his entire body in haki and takes this moment to attack. He ignores the screaming pain in his side and shoulder and lunges towards Sengoku, who is still trying to recover from the blast. Crocodile swings his leg, hitting Sengoku’s head.

Sengoku stumbles forward, his face pointing towards the road. Crocodile winces and jumps back with a hand pressed to his side. When he had struck Sengoku, it had sent an eruption of pain down the left side of his body. When he pulls his hand back, its coated in blood. He sucks in a pained breath and reapplies pressure, gritting his teeth to keep from moaning. A single line of blood drips down the side of Sengoku’s face as he lifts his head. His dark eyes are zeroed in on Crocodile. He grits his teeth and starts to move again but Sengoku delivers another blow.

“You’re only delaying the inevitable!” Sengoku yells as he slowly walks after him. Crocodile crashes through a store window. Shattered glass sticks into his right side and covers his face with deep cuts. He manages to push himself up, letting out a pain husky breath. His palms are left bloody from the glass beneath him. He stares down at his left leg where a large shard sticks out. Holding his breath, he pulls it out, struggling to swallow a scream. When he’s able to stand, he stumbles out of the broken window and falls against a crate. Beads of sweat roll down the side of his face as he pants, the pain making it hard to breathe. Then he notices what he’s hidden behind the crate and gets a burst of energy. He grits his teeth and swings a heavy rapid fire gun around, only pausing long enough to catch Sengoku’s expression before firing.

This time, Sengoku is the one running from his attacks. The bullets tear through everything, leaving a trail of destruction behind it. His trembling legs bulk beneath him as he struggles to keep himself and the gun up. The pain from his bleeding thigh and side is nauseating. When he squeezes the trigger again and hears a click, he lets the gun drop to the ground, nearly toppling over in the process. He leans on the crate one more time, taking slow pained breaths. He glances down the street where a potted fern sits.

Just make it past that. He tells himself. Just to that point.

Pushing himself from the crate, he limps further down the street. Sengoku steps out from the dust and debris practically unscathed by any of his attacks. Crocodile chokes out a laugh, but this time at himself. He knew winning this fight would be a long shot, but to lose this badly was nothing less than an insult. He grits his teeth, ignoring the tangy iron taste coating his tongue and keeps walking, leaving a trail of blood behind him. When his legs give out, he falls on his hands and knees, sweat dripping down his nose. He lifts his head and realizes that he can see the ocean from here. He spots a ship leaving the harbor with a dragon figurehead crawling down the sides of the bow. A smile spreads across his lips as he drops his head. Even though he’s never seen Dragon’s ship before, he knows.

They made it out.

“With all the arrogance you displayed earlier, I was expecting more of a fight.” Sengoku’s steps are getting closer. Crocodile digs into his pocket, wincing at every new surge of pain racing down his leg with every shift and fidget before he can pull his lighter out. Sengoku’s footsteps come to a stop just behind him. He flips it up and lights it before throwing it towards a fuse peeking out from behind the fern. He drops down, covering his head. He prays the fuse isn’t to wet to light just before the first firework shoots off hitting Sengoku in the chest.

The street lights up in a rainbow of color. Some shifted and fire in different directions, some shooting straight up into the air, but most are aimed directly at Sengoku. Crocodile knows this won’t kill him. But with luck he’ll be able to use it to get away. He musters the last of his strength and forces himself to his feet. A firework streams past grazing his shoulder. He ignores it and keeps moving. An explosion of light bursts to his side causing hot embers to spray into his face but he doesn’t stop moving. Sengoku is screaming something, but he can’t hear it over the whistling and crescendos of the fireworks. When he finally breaks through the line where he had lined the fireworks, he stops, panting for air. He coughs, his throat burns as if he had inhaled an ember. Even though the fireworks are still going off just behind him, the sound is muffled with a distinct ringing in both ears. When he lifts his head, he freezes. The Celestial Dragon from before stands further down the street, laughing and flailing his pistol. Crocodile notices smoke coming out of the weapon as if it had just been fired. Then he slowly lowers his eyes to his stomach and finds a red stain quickly growing. Hands are grabbing him before he can fully register that he’s just been shot.

He doesn’t remember being thrown. He doesn’t remember smashing through three buildings. He blinks up at a wooden ceiling as bricks and rubble fall around him. He coughs, feeling warm liquid spill over his lips.

“You’re determined, I’ll give you that.” Sengoku’s voice cuts through his haze. He stands over Crocodile, a smirk across his face.

“… won…” he has to shift so that his lungs can get enough air to speak.

            “What was that?” Sengoku grins. Crocodile mumbles the words making Sengoku laugh. “Sorry, couldn’t quite catch that.”

            Crocodile struggles to say it again so he waves for Sengoku to come closer. Sengoku frowns but steps over a pile of rubble and leans his ear down.

            “I… said…” Crocodile wheezes just as Sengoku hears it.

            Tick… tick… tick…

            “I won.” Crocodile lunges forward wrapping his arms around Sengoku, pressing the explosive collar against both their necks. Sengoku lurches back, desperately trying to get Crocodile off him, but Crocodile refuses to let go. He wraps his legs around his waist and uses everything he has left to keep himself stuck to the admiral. Sengoku stumbles back out into the street while failing to pull Crocodile off.

            Tick… tick… tick…

            Sengoku begins punching at Crocodile’s head, ribs, and back. Crocodile bites down into his own arm when he hears the snap in his ribcage. Hot tears swell in his eyes as the rain begins to fall harder than ever. He’s never feared death before, but as he clings to Sengoku his mind begins to wander. He thinks of Amazon Lily. They’ll hold a funeral for him even if they don’t get his body back. But as he blinks away the tears, he knows that no one will mourn him. Instead, they will mourn the position that he held until it can be filled again. He thinks of his mother still sitting in his childhood home, staring out the balcony. He imagines them telling her that her only child was killed. He imagines her smoking her pipe as if nothing had happened. As if he had never existed. He lets out a strangled cry when Sengoku punches his head and warm sticky blood spills over his left eye. He digs his fingernails into his arms until he draws blood.

            Tick… tick… tick…

            Then, out of nowhere, a gust of wind blasts down the street causing Sengoku to stumble. Before he can get his footing, something moves so fast that Crocodile could only make out a blur. Suddenly, accompanied by the booming crash of thunder, a powerful force hits Sengoku so hard it causes Crocodile’s arms to break apart, letting him go. Sengoku’s body flies back into a building as Crocodile falls. It happens so fast that he doesn’t even register when he’s been caught in someone’s arms. His head spins when he feels himself being lowered gently to the ground. Blinking away the rain and tears, he stares up at a familiar face.

            “Don’t move.” Dragon’s eyes are dark and focused. His hands are moving just below Crocodile’s vision, but he can’t bring himself to look away from his face. As if looking away might make him disappear. Then there is an explosion, and it takes a minute before Crocodile realizes it was from his collar. He blinks, lifting a hand to his throat and only finding tender flesh. He lifts his gaze back to Dragon.

            “Why… didn’t you… leave? You… moron!” It takes everything just to speak. His words come out in wheezy pants as his lungs fail to fill with air. He wants to shake Dragon in frustration, but he can barely lift his hand to his shoulder. Dragon’s face is dark.

            “Shut up!” The harshness in his tone makes Crocodile freeze. Then his expression softens before he pulls his cloak off and wraps it around Crocodile’s shoulders and pulls the hood over his head, protecting him from the rain. Dragon lifts a hand to his cheek, rubbing his thumb carefully across Crocodile’s scarred face. “You’re my friend. What other reason do I need?”

            All at once, something shifts. As if the walls Crocodile has built over the years have melted away. Fat tears build in his eyes as Dragon’s callused hand radiates a warmth Crocodile has never felt before. He finds himself letting his face rest against his palm. He can’t bring himself to speak, this time due to a knot forming in his throat. He drops his head, not wanting to cry in front of him.

Dragon lowers his head and murmurs, “Just hold on a little longer. I’ll protect you.”

The warmth of his breath against Crocodile’s ear makes a chill run up his spine. Crocodile nods, unable to meet Dragon’s gaze. Heat spreads throughout his body and face as his heart begins to race. Does he have a fever? He’s never felt anything like this before. He manages to lift his hand to his chest feeling his heart pounding like a drum. When he’s able to bring himself to look at Dragon again, he pulls his hand away to stand. Crocodile has a sudden desire to pull his hand back and press it to his cheek as something stirs in his lower stomach. Dragon turns and stands at the center of the street, watching Sengoku climb out of the rubble.

“Dragon.” Sengoku narrows his eyes as he fully recovers from Dragon’s attack. Crocodile didn’t think it was possible, but his heart begins to beat even faster as an image of Dragon beaten and bloody flashes across his mind. He wants to tell Dragon to run, but even if he could speak it was unlikely that he would hear it over the wind. Dragon says nothing as he slowly rolls his sleeves up to his elbows. For some reason this sends another burst of heat through Crocodile’s body. Sengoku frowns deeper. “Do you really think you can beat me?”

“I have no intentions of fighting you, Admiral. Not today at least.” Dragon closes his eyes as the wind grows even stronger. Crocodile grabs onto his cloak, desperately trying to keep it from blowing away. He’s so worried about the cloak that he almost misses Sengoku struggling to keep himself from blowing back. But there’s nothing he can do. A small tornado forms behind Sengoku making it impossible to get away. One second the Admiral is there and the next… gone.

Dragon’s shoulders relax and as if on cue, so does the rain. The tornado disappears as Dragon turns and faces Crocodile, a warm smile spreading across his lips. Crocodile feels himself returning that smile. Until there is another gun shot. This time Crocodile feels the bullet pierce his skin. Dragon’s face twists into an expression of horror and rage as Crocodile struggles to let out a scream. Blood spills over his lips as he falls forward. He had forgotten about the Celestial Dragon.

A foot hits the side of Crocodile’s head as the Celestial’s voice screams, “You ruined everything! Do you know who I am? To you I am a god—”

Dragon punches the Celestial across the street. Crocodile watches as he lies motionless on the ground, no longer able to move. The Celestial’s nose is bent to the side as blood gushes out and down his chin. He’s clearly never taken a punch before and even in Crocodile’s near comatose state he takes some satisfaction at seeing the worm writhe in pain. He’s so wrapped up in his broken nose that he hasn’t even noticed his precious air bubble has popped.  

“If you’re a god,” Dragon’s words come out in a low dangerous rumble. “Then that must make me a god killer.”

“What?” the Celestial pushes himself back in frantic movements, dirtying his pristine white robes. “Who—who are you?”

“Monkey D. Dragon.” Dragon stands over him, his fists clenched so tightly that a vein bulges in his forearms.

The Celestial’s eyes grow wide, “Did you say… D?”

That’s all the Celestial is able to say before Dragon strikes and Crocodile slips into unconsciousness.

When Crocodile wakes, bright beams of sunlight are washing over him. It takes a moment before he realizes he’s on the Kuja Pirate ship. He doesn’t move at first, even now his body is aching in tremendous pain. He starts with wiggling his toes. He winces. Bad idea. He tries his fingers and when no shooting pains spread up his arms, he goes a step further and lifts his left hand. His arm and fingers are bandaged but other than that, its fine. It takes more encouragement to inspect the rest of his body. His left leg is bandaged tightly with a tourniquet. His abdomen and right shoulder are bandaged as well, along with his right arm being stuck in a sling.

He forces himself up, biting back a cry of pain from his first gunshot wound. That damned Celestial. Then he remembers Dragon and heat floods his face. Is he okay? What happened to the Celestial? Did Sengoku come back? He needs to find out but before he can even attempt to maneuver off the bed, the door to his room swings open and one of his crew steps in. She carries a tray filled with clean bandages and ointments. When she sees Crocodile sitting up, she gasps and nearly drops the tray.

“Snake Princess! You’re awake!” she rushes to Crocodile’s side as he sighs and stares at the wall.

“It would seem so.” He shifts, trying to find a more comfortable position. There isn’t one.

“Snake Princess, please, you should be lying down. Your injuries were grave.” The woman tries to ease him back down, but he refuses.

“How did I get back to the ship?” he asks when the woman finally gives up on trying to get him to lie down. She sets the tray on the bedside table and frowns.

“It was horrible,” she begins preparing the bandages as she speaks. “This horrible looking man carried you through the city to us.”

“What? Dragon?” Crocodile stares directly at the woman for the first time. This makes her flinch.

“I… didn’t catch the man’s name.” she says, her fingers hesitating as they work. Crocodile opens his mouth to ask more when voices come from outside the room.

“… you are not welcome here. You must leave nyow!” Granny Nyon’s shrewd voice nags.

“And I told you that I’m not leaving until he wakes up.” a deep rough voice snaps back. Crocodile’s heart pounds against his sternum as it suddenly becomes hard to breathe.

Crocodile can stand it no longer. He begins to maneuver himself off the bed when the door to the room opens. He freezes as Dragon steps into the room. He stops, their eyes locking on to each other.

“You’re awake!” Dragon moves to his side, sitting on the edge of the bed. Crocodile’s face burns hot. His fever must have returned.

“You’re here…” Crocodile is breathless.

Dragon opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted when Granny Nyon bonks him on the head with her cane.

“He must leave!” she says, getting ready to bonk him again. Dragon rubs the top of his head, frowning at the old lady.

“Enough,” Crocodile’s voice is authoritative and makes both the woman and Granny Nyon take notice. “All of you, out.” And then much softer, “… Dragon can stay.”

Granny Nyon looks as if she has been turned to stone but is able to snap herself out of her shocked state. She eyes Dragon and Crocodile suspiciously before slowly following the other woman out of his chambers. When they are alone, Crocodile can hear his heartbeat in his ears.

Dragon turns to him, “How are you feeling?”

This makes Crocodile scoff, “Great. Planning on going for a jog later.”

Dragon grins as Crocodile’s stomach does a flip. Dragon leans on his knees, “You can’t scare me like that though.”

“What?” Crocodile arches a brow. Dragon digs into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. It’s the note Crocodile had written him.

“Take the children and leave. I will distract Sengoku long enough for you to get away. S.” Dragon reads before frowning at him, “You could have come with them. We could have gotten out of there together. You didn’t have to face Sengoku alone.”

. “Then he would have come after all of us. I couldn’t risk the kids getting captured again. Besides, he was only after me.” Crocodile’s fingers fidget with the edge of the bedsheet when Dragon gives a warm soft smile. Then Crocodile asks, “What happened to the kids?”

“My old man found me when I was on my way to find you. They had found one of my agents but apparently someone told them that they could only be given to a man with a grumpy face and no eyebrows,” he eyes Crocodile who holds in a laugh. “I took them back to my ship and had my people take them away. It’s the reason it took me so long to find you.”

“Then they’re safe.” Crocodile rests back against his pillows. “What will happen to them now?”

Dragon frowns down at his hands, “Those who were taken will be given back to their families. The fishmen and mermaids will be taken to fishman island. One of my men knows the queen there. She’ll make sure they’re taken care of. Unfortunately, most kids are sold into slavery by their parents. They’ll stay with us. We’ll give them a home until they’re old enough to go out on their own.”

Crocodile frowns at him, “You aren’t making child soldiers, are you?”

Dragon gives a laugh, “No, but if they do grow up and decide to join the cause then that’s their choice. I do plan on teaching them how to protect themselves if nothing else.”

Crocodile sighs. It could be much worse, and he doesn’t have any clear answer. They sit in silence for a moment, listening to the creaks and moans of the ship as it sways with the waves.

After a while, Crocodile speaks, “What happened to the Celestial Dragon? Did you kill him?”

There’s a pause before Dragon says, “Yes.”

Crocodile smiles. Good. Then he glances at Dragon and presses his lips together.

“Is it true that you carried me through the city?” he meets Dragon’s eyes.

“Yeah. What was I supposed to do? Wait for you to get up and walk yourself?” Dragon gives a lopsided grin. Crocodile stares down at his hand again, a strange ache fluttering in his chest.  

“Thank… you…” it barely comes out as a whisper.

Dragon tilts his head. “What was that?”

Crocodile’s face burns as he struggles to say it again. “Thank… you…”

Dragon blinks, “What?”

“Thank you!” he says it too loud this time. He can’t bring himself to look at him.

Dragon laughs, “Never thought I would hear those words from you.”

“Yeah, well, it’s the first and last time. Don’t get used to it.” Crocodile would have crossed his arms if he could.

The day went on. Sometimes Crocodile and Dragon would talk about the day and everything that had happened, and sometimes they would sit in a comfortable silence. They were both exhausted from the day and found themselves dozing off from time to time. Dragon would sleep with his head propped on his arms as he sat in a chair and leaned on the edge of the bed. Crocodile would get weird urges to touch his hair when he slept. Granny Nyon never strayed far. She wore a very suspicious expression every time she entered the room. Crocodile made her leave every time.  Eventually it became nightfall. They had just had dinner. Crocodile could barely eat a mouthful while Dragon ate enough for ten men. Crocodile settled against the mattress, feeling the pain meds finally kick in. Dragon spread his arms out in a deep stretch before suddenly leaning over Crocodile. Crocodile freezes as Dragon’s scent washes over him. He smells of dirt, sweat, and the sea air and yet Crocodile somehow finds it intoxicating.

“There,” Dragon says when he sits back into his chair. He had leaned over Crocodile to open his window. Crocodile stares out at a night sky full of stars. Dragon leans his arms on the mattress and stares out. “I love to star gaze.”

“I never noticed them much before.” Crocodile mumbles, his head light, probably from the meds.

Dragon lets out a relaxed breath and tilts his head on his arms to stare at Crocodile. Then, for the first time, he says, “Come with me.”

Crocodile arches a brow, “What?”

“Come with me. Join the revolution.” He says, never dropping his relaxed smile.

Crocodile shifts slightly and shakes his head. “Get your head out of your ass.”

Dragon gives a soft laugh, “I’m serious. You could come with me.”

Crocodile thinks about it for a minute. Leaving with him and living as a revolutionist. He shakes his head again, “I don’t like taking orders from anyone.”

Dragon shrugs. “Suit yourself. But if you change your mind, find me.”

Crocodile says nothing else. They soon fall back into an easy silence and slowly fall asleep while gazing out at the stars.  

Chapter Text

            The ship sways against the gentle ocean waves causing the wooden beams to creak and moan with every shift. Crocodile peels his eyes open in slow bleary blinks and stares at the wooden ceiling of his chambers. It takes a moment for him to realize where he’s at, and when he does, he heaves a disappointed sigh. He sits up with a groan as his back pops in three different places. He feels as if he’s been sleeping for years. It’s not until he’s rubbing the sleep from his eyes does he realize that someone has stripped him down to his underwear. Crocodile tenses with a frown and searches the room for his clothes. He finds them neatly folded in the chair across the room.

            When he finally musters enough energy to climb out of bed and dress himself, he pauses in front of the door. His jaw sets while arguing silently with himself before suddenly turning away to cross the room and begin making a pot of coffee. Despite his sluggish movements, he’s eventually able to produce enough coffee to fill two mugs, each with a splash of whiskey. He steps outside the room and immediately searches for the sun. Unfortunately, the sky is covered with thick grey clouds that make it impossible to tell the time of day.

            He finds Daz sitting on a crate with two crocodiles lounging at his feet. When he spots Crocodile, his expression is unreadable. Crocodile walks over and extends one of the cups of coffee towards him. Daz stares at it just long enough for Crocodile to wonder if he’ll accept it or not. But then he reaches for it and takes a sip. This is the closest they will ever get to an ‘I’m sorry’.

Crocodile turns to lean against the ship railing. He stares out at the dark ocean before asking, “Did you undress me?”

“No,” Daz chuckles into his coffee. Crocodile frowns at him so he explains, “You were asleep for almost 3 days. You got up a few times to eat, drink, and use the bathroom. You undressed yourself after getting up the first time. You were always really out of it, so it made me wonder if you were sleep walking. I guess you were.”

Crocodile looks away, frowning angrily into his coffee. With his dream still fresh in his mind, he wants to ask if he had said anything strange during those times but doesn’t. Asking might be revealing too much. He also wants to ask if he walked around the ship in his underwear but can’t bring himself to ask that either. So instead, he finishes his coffee and leans against the ship railing. One of the crocodile’s reach his feet and lifts up to stare at him. He bends down to give it a scratch under its chin.

“Where are we now?” he asks, wanting to change the subject quickly.

“We’ve been circling a small fishing island for a few days now. I’ve already stocked up on everything we need, and the log pose is set for the next island.” Daz side eyes Crocodile, weighing his reaction. “Just waiting on your orders.”

Crocodile turns so his back is against the railing and stares up at the sails. He closes his eyes as distant screams from Marineford echoes in his ears. He knows where to go next… he just doesn’t know if he’s ready to face him again. 

Crocodile opens his eyes and pushes himself from the railing, “Let’s go.”

Despite the voyage to their destination being a long one, Crocodile does not move from his spot. He sits in his chair and keeps his eyes locked on the horizon. This unfortunately left Daz to man the ship by himself. Crocodile knows its selfish, but if he helps or even so much as moves an inch—he knows it will be to turn the ship around. Crocodile is no coward. But reaching this island will open up a whole new wave of emotions that he’s not ready to face.

Luffy is his son. That fact still weighs heavy on his heart. And he is nowhere near ready to get over the new knowledge from learning of Gloriosa’s betrayal. It’s a fresh wound that will take years to heal, if ever. But as the echoes of Marineford continue to grow louder with every passing second, two faces from his past emerge. Crocodile rests his face into his palm. His past can be just as damning to Luffy as Dragon’s criminal reputation.

When the island appears, he has Daz dock but stay with the ship. With a bottle of sake in hand, he departs and makes his way through the small island.

Crocodile stands on the windy hill, reading the words on Whitebeard’s tombstone. Ace’s is right next to his, both are covered in a ridiculous assortment of flowers. Crocodile slowly lowers to the ground, sitting with his legs crossed in front of Whitebeards tombstone. He pulls out two small sake drinking cups and places one in front of Ace and the other in front of himself. After filling each cup, he places the open bottle of sake among the flowers in front of Whitebeard.

“I bet you’re rolling your eyes at all these flowers, huh old man?” Crocodile says after a long moment of silence. A strand of hair is blown in his face, but he doesn’t brush it away. “But then again… I’m sure you’d tell me this is just a waste of a bottle of good sake.”

Crocodile pauses as if waiting for the old man to say something back. He doesn’t.

“Ace,” Crocodile glances at the smaller tombstone. “Thank you for looking after Luffy… sorry things turned out the way they did.”

Crocodile lowers his head, staying silent. He rubs at his golden hook, an ache throbbing up his arm and across his chest. He swallows a knot in his throat.

“You told… you told me that you knew the second you saw me,” Crocodile’s bottom lip begins to tremble making him feel more vulnerable than he has in years. He sniffs and keeps going, “From the very first second… you knew I was your son.”

Crocodile lifts his head, fat tears pouring down his cheeks, “Well I didn’t know! Tell me how Luffy was right in front of me, and I never even suspected? I nearly killed my kid, and not once did I ever think that he could be mine.”

Crocodile drops his head again, his hand gripping at his thighs as his entire body shakes. He goes on, “You didn’t even know I existed but that still didn’t stop you from being able to recognize me. I didn’t even know.”

He still remembers the day that they came face to face. He had been making a name for himself as Crocodile, completely devoted to achieving his dream of becoming the next King of the Pirates. The next hurtle was to take down Whitebeard himself. They faced each other on a deserted island in the New World. He had been perfecting his strategy to take down Whitebeard for over a year at that point and was inching to watch it unfold. Except when Whitebeard finally turned to face him, the old man froze.

“So,” Whitebeard had grinned. “That’s where you ran off to.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Crocodile had been ready to strike, but Whitebeard’s words took him off guard.

“The first time I saw your face in the paper I knew just as I know now,” Whitebeard gripped his supreme sword and let out only a taste of his haki, momentarily stalling Crocodile from attacking. “Did you think I would not recognize my own son?”

Crocodile had gritted his teeth, “Old age has made you senile old man!”

Then Whitebeard said his mother’s name and revealed that he knew Crocodile was once the Snake Empress of Amazon Lily. While he admits to not knowing Crocodile’s mother well, he spoke of things about her that only a hand full of people knew. When he was done, Crocodile had been paralyzed. Speechless.

Whitebeard had refused to fight him that day. Instead, he stretched his hand out and asked him to join his crew. Crocodile refused and demanded that they battle. He still wasn’t convinced what he was saying was true. Even if the old man knew his mother, that didn’t mean they were actually related. But nothing could convince Whitebeard otherwise. Whitebeard had frowned at him.

“I will only fight you if you use all your strength.” He had started to turn away.

“Do you think I would hold back? You think me so arrogant?” Crocodile had been fuming. The declaration that Whitebeard was his father had been disorienting. Whitebeard had turned and swung his blade, hitting Crocodile with the blunt side. Crocodile flew back, skidding in the dirt.

“I know your strength and I know why you no longer use haki. Do you think it will make you less of a man if you use it now, you brat? Until you are willing to face me at your full strength, I will not fight you.”

That had been the last thing he said that day.

Crocodile is unable to stop the tears from falling. Crocodile and Whitebeard only ever came together when Crocodile wanted to fight. And still, it was a far better relationship then he had with his mother. At least Whitebeard acknowledged him. Called him son—though he mostly addressed him as brat. When Crocodile had reached an all time low, he sought Whitebeard out for no other reason than to hear Whitebeard call him son. They had shouted and argued but Whitebeard must have sensed something was wrong because for the second and final time, he asked Crocodile to join his crew. Of course, Crocodile refused but, in a way, it had been comforting and he left feeling better then when he arrived.

Crocodile wishes he could hear him say it one more time. He’d give anything for the old man to call him son and a foolish brat. Crocodile hopelessly chokes out, “How could I not know he was my son?”

“Well, I wouldn’t beat yourself up too much about it,” a voice says from behind him. He tenses as the blood drains from his face. He hadn’t heard him approach from behind. Crocodile doesn’t move except to wipe his tears before falling still again. Garp walks over and sits at his side. He places flowers in front of each grave before bowing his head in a silent prayer. When he lifts his head again, he doesn’t turn to face Crocodile. They both sit facing the graves. Finally, Garp says, “I wasn’t even sure myself until a few days ago.”

Crocodile says nothing. His heartbeat is pounding in his ears.

“When Dadan told me that a man with a hook came to pay respects on behalf of Luffy’s mother? It confirmed everything I had been suspecting.” Garp explains as the wind blows Whitebeards coat and Ace’s hat in the wind.

“How long have you known?” Crocodile’s voice is tight. They still do not face each other.

“From the moment Dragon brought him home I knew he was yours. When the news came out about what happened to the Snake Princess… well, I thought that was that. At least until a pirate named Crocodile became a warlord.” He crosses his arms before saying, “At first, I thought it was just a coincidence. Or maybe you had a twin brother. After everything that went down in Alabasta I thought there was no way you two were the same person. But then you started making strange choices in Marineford by saving Luffy all those times. It was out of character for you. But I still wasn’t sure. Not until I heard of what you did at Windmill Village.”

They fall into silence. Crocodile’s mouth is stuck shut.

“He loved you, ya know? Losing you broke Dragon.” As if he had been shot, Garp’s words pierce Crocodile’s heart making him lose all control. He covers his face with his hand but is unable to stop himself from sobbing. Garp says nothing and lets Crocodile cry. Its humiliating to cry in front of anyone, let alone Garp, but Crocodile can’t fight it anymore. This entire time he’s been using everything to keep it together. He’s finally reached his limit. He’s not strong enough anymore.

When the tears finally dry, his face is red and puffy. He wipes the last few drops from his face and keeps his head pointed at the ground.

“I didn’t want to hurt him…” Crocodile’s voice is hoarse from the crying. After a deep breath and another pause to collect himself, Crocodile can’t stop himself from telling Garp everything.

When he’s finished, Garp frowns with his eyes closed. Crocodile lets out a deep sigh, his chest already noticeably lighter from verbally saying everything he has been bottling up since starting this journey.

“So that’s that,” Garp says at last. Crocodile turns his head to stare at him for the first time. He looks older than he had at Marineford. The light in his eyes is gone. Losing Ace has taken its toll. Garp gives a sad grin. “What is it that Whitebeard used to say? No use in crying…”

“… it’s just a waste of salt.” Crocodile finishes it. They both stare at Whitebeard’s tombstone, a soft sad smile on both their faces. What happened at Marineford will haunt them both for the rest of their days. Sometimes when Crocodile closes his eyes, he can still see it unfolding.

Crocodile had stood behind Whitebeard, Luffy had just stopped him from attacking the old man and gave him a heads up about the marines bumping up Ace’s execution. It had annoyed him to no end to see the old man treat the brat so casually. At the time, Straw Hat was just as much an annoyance as he was in Alabasta. When the kid leapt off the Moby Dick and charged headfirst into battle, Crocodile had rolled his eyes.

“I had heard the rumors, but I didn’t think they were true.” Whitebeard had said, his back still to Crocodile. The men holding him back never budged.

“What are you on about now, old man?” Crocodile’s temple throbbed with annoyance.

Whitebeard glanced over his shoulder and said, “You never told me that you actually had a child.”

Shivers shot up Crocodile’s spine. A distant single cry pierced his ears for the first time in years.

“She was stillborn.” Crocodile took a step towards him, his hook out ready to strike as his anger grew at an alarming rate. The men holding him back began to struggle.

“I recognized you the moment I saw you. You think I wouldn’t recognize my own grandson either?” Whitebeard turned his head back to face the battle. Crocodile started fighting against the men.

“What the hell are you trying to say? My kid died at birth! I never even got to hold her!” at that moment he had turned into sand and tried to attack the old man. But of course, he was ready. He grabbed Crocodile in his hand and held him in the air.

“When have I ever lied to you boy? Why don’t you have a little time out and think about it!” He had thrown Crocodile off the Moby Dick causing him to land on the ice. Whitebeard’s words had sent him into a similar frenzy of madness that he had the day he had given birth. It didn’t help that Whitebeard was as calm as ever. Why would he lie though? But how could he be right? And then came Sengoku’s announcement. Straw Hat Luffy is the Revolutionary Dragon’s son. At first Crocodile didn’t register that it meant Luffy was his. His first thought was that Dragon had moved on. It hurt. Despite the fact that they hadn’t seen each other in nearly 2 decades, Crocodile still held strong feelings for the man. If anything, at that point in time, it had only made him hate the kid more. But then that single cry echoed in his ears, causing him to doubt. He couldn’t get his head straight. So much so that he couldn’t react in time before Jozu rammed him head on.

And then… Doflamingo appeared. Whitebeard’s words had sent him spiraling into the past, opening old wounds. Sengoku’s announcement had made Crocodile feel like he had lost Dragon forever. And for Doflamingo to appear the way he had, only made it worse.

“Why don’t you team up with me?”

It had felt like DeJa’Vu. He was losing his grip on things and couldn’t allow himself to slip up now. Not with Whitebeard so close. Not with Dragon’s son leading the charge. He had fought on, refusing Doflamingo like he had before and continued his advance.

When Whitebeard had been stabbed by Squard, his heart fell into his stomach. Seeing him be stabbed so easily didn’t make sense. And if he was being completely honest, it made him worry for the old fool. But of course, the old man leapt into battle all the same, clearing his name from everything Squard had accused him of. But something didn’t sit right with Crocodile. The entire situation was off.

Then the walls came up and Sakazuki fired his magma into the sky as Crocodile realized what was bothering him.

“You wanna know how I would kill Whitebeard?” Crocodile had said when he lived as the Snake Empress. He had been lounging on an island almost entirely covered in flowers while waiting to be picked up after an unfortunate shipwreck with a marine. “If I could have complete control of the battlefield, I would find a way to turn his men against him and surround him and his pirates with impenetrable walls. Make it where they can’t advance or retreat. And then I would rain hell down from above.”

He had said it so arrogantly all those years ago without even thinking. Crocodile had stood on the ice realizing he was caught in his own trap. He stared forward to where Sakazuki stood. Crocodile had told him the strategy that day and now he was paying the price. All around him were screams of anguish. He didn’t know where to look. He didn’t know what to do. Then heard Straw Hat’s scream.

“So, what’ll it be?” Whitebeard had appeared beside him. Crocodile’s heart had been pounding in his chest. “Are you willing to save Straw Hat and be right? Or let him die and be wrong? The choice is yours, son.”

All of it was too much. He felt as if he was losing his mind. Between the screams of those around him, flashes of Doflamingo’s face from the past and present, the images of Sakazuki on that island, Dragon’s smile, and that single cry the night he gave birth, he was close to falling apart.

Then Jinbei had thrown Luffy over the walls and Crocodile made his choice.

Garp and Crocodile continue to stay silent as they listen to the wind rustle the trees behind them. Crocodile stares up at Whitebeard’s tombstone before closing his eyes and giving a silent prayer. When he opens them, he turns to Garp.

“Do you know where I can find him?” he asks, his voice has finally returned to normal.

Garp arches a brow, “Who? Luffy?”

“No,” Crocodile keeps his face neutral. “I think it's time I have a reunion with Dragon.”

Chapter Text

            At first, the only response Garp gives is a “Hm.” As they continue to stare, completely unable to read the other. Garp is the first to break contact to turn his face and stare at the graves. Finally, he says, “Unfortunately he doesn’t disclose his location with me.”

            Crocodile nods and tilts his head towards the sky to watch two seagulls fly overhead before saying, “I thought as much.”

            When the birds are out of sight, Crocodile looks back as his father’s grave. With his great sword stuck into the gravestone, it nearly towers as tall as the man himself. A knot forms in Crocodile’s throat. For a moment, a part of him wishes they could have known each other better. He has no idea what that would have looked like. Crocodile has never been the kind to open up so easily to anyone. He supposes that he’s lucky that they knew each other at all. He prays silently that one day maybe Luffy can look at him the same way. He doubts that they will ever have a relationship beyond the one they have now. When he feels himself getting close to tears again, he clears his throat before taking the sake cup in front of himself and downing it.

            Bye pops.

            He stands, taking in the sight of the tombstone one last time before turning and starting down the hill. Except he doesn’t make if five feet before he comes to an abrupt halt. Staring down at the grass, he grits his teeth, trying to will himself to take another step. It doesn’t happen. He presses his lips together as he slowly turns so he’s half facing Garp and the graves.  

            Grinding his teeth, he wishes he could just walk away and leave the old man to mourn… but some unseeable force keeps him glued to his spot. Before he can stop himself, he blurts, “He…”

His voice cracks making his face burn as he clears his throat again in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. Garp glances over his shoulder but doesn’t turn his body. Crocodile swallows and goes on, “He probably didn’t hate you in the end… Ace I mean.”

            Garp returns his head so that he’s facing the graves again. Crocodile continues, “I never knew the kid, but if Whitebeard thought that he was worth fighting for then… he was someone who wouldn’t blame you for how it ended. In the end, he chose to fight Sakazuki.”

            A strong gust of wind knocks Crocodile’s back almost making him stumble towards Garp. He manages to steady himself and brushes a strand of hair behind his ear. When he’s standing straight, he closes his eyes as the image of Luffy holding Fire Fist in his las moments flashes across his eyes.

“We’ll never know if it mattered in the end. If our actions changed anything. If he ran… maybe, he would have gotten away. Maybe not.” He opens his eyes and finds the two seagulls have returned and are circling overhead. Crocodile blinks and lets out a calming breath. “We can’t keep killing ourselves with ‘what ifs’ and asking ourselves what we could have done different. Nothing can change the past. All we can do now is move forward.”

            Garp stays silent as he continues to stare at Ace’s tombstone. Crocodile isn’t surprised when he doesn’t respond. Saying anything else might be pushing things and Crocodile already feels like he’s embarrassed himself in front of the Vice Admiral enough for a lifetime. He gives a small respectful nod despite Garp not being able to see it and turns to finally start down the hill.

            “Crocodile,” Garp’s voice cuts through the wind and rustling trees. Crocodile stops once again and turns back to the graves. He watches Garp slowly get to his feet, bow to the graves, and turn to walk down the hill. He stops in front of Crocodile. “I don’t know where Dragon is but… I might have something that could help you find him.”

            Garp doesn’t elaborate and Crocodile doesn’t ask any further questions. They walk side by side as they descend the hill towards their ships.

            “So,” Garp says, breaking their silence, “Was Whitebeard really your old man?”

            Crocodile gives a sigh, “Who knows. He never gave me any definite proof that I was his biological son. But in the end I guess it didn’t matter. Once Whitebeard got it in his head about something, there was no changing it. And I suppose I never really mind it either.”

            Garp gives a grunt in response before arching a brow at him making Crocodile frown.

“So, Whitebeard took your left hand, gave you that scar, and you’re still visiting his grave to show your respects? Sorry if I’m a little confused by that.” Garp doesn’t look away.

            Crocodile lets out a short laugh, “I doubt its something most would understand. Our relationship was complicated. I didn’t meet him until I was older and by then had no intention of playing out a father and son relationship. All I ever wanted for him was to be treated as an equal and to fight him. He did in the end, and it cost me my left hand and left me permanently scarred. I vowed to return the favor one day but… I never hated him.”

            Garp gives another grunt in response. Truthfully, Crocodile loved that old fool. Maybe it’s just him being sentimental after everything that’s happened from learning about Luffy, but he really did. Crocodile lifts his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. He’s growing soft and it’s really starting to piss him off. He lets out an aggravated breath and reaches into his coat to pull out a cigar. He lifts it to his lips before digging around his pockets in search of a light. He pauses when Garp pulls out a matchbook and lights the end of his cigar. Crocodile stares at him for a moment before taking a drag and letting out a steady stream of smoke.

            “So,” Crocodile says as their ships come into view. “Do you plan on arresting me when we reach the ships?”

            “Oh, didn’t you hear? I’m semi-retired now!” he gives a laugh and wide grin that reminds Crocodile to much of both Luffy and Dragon. He looks away to hide his own smile. When they approach the ships, Daz is standing on the deck with his arms turned into blades. On the naval vessel, a slew of marines points their guns at Crocodile’s ship. Both Crocodile and Garp let out tired sighs as the get closer.

            “Vice Admiral! I’m glad that you’re back. We need your orders before we ca—Ca—Crocodile! What is he doing here?!” a pink haired boy shouts when he recognizes the former warlord. Crocodile takes a drag while keeping eye contact with the brat. A blonde haired brat stands next to him looking just as surprised and horrified as the first one.

            “Calm down Koby, Helmeppo, he’s just leaving. Tell the men to put away their weapons before they hurt themselves.” Garp sticks his hands in his pockets before saying to Crocodile, “Wait here.”

            Crocodile does as he asks and waits while the pink haired boy, Koby, refuses to take his eyes off him. Crocodile glances towards Daz and shouts, “Stand down Daz. We won’t be returning to Impel Down today.”

            Daz’s arms return to normal but even from here, Crocodile can see him sweating.

            “Excuse me, Crocodile sir?” Koby says as he stares at the ground with his bandaged hands in fists. He’s covered in wounds. He must have been there. The boy lifts his head to meet Crocodile’s eyes, “You… you helped Monkey D. Luffy escape… right? I know you two were enemies in the past but…”

            “Koby, should you really…” The one named Helmeppo reaches out for his friend but Koby shakes him away.

            “Please, if you can, please tell me if he’s okay!” Koby stands tall after asking this. Crocodile lets out a breath of smoke and watches the sudden surge of confidence fade almost as quickly as it came. He steps back and begins shaking his head while moving his hands and saying, “I—I mean… if you can! You don’t have to I was just…”

            “You a friend of his, boy?” Crocodile takes his cigar from his mouth, inspects it before sliding it back between his teeth. Koby lifts his head again and nods. “Then you should know not to worry about such things. The brat will be fine.”

            Koby’s shoulders relax with relief as he smiles. He gives a quick short bow. “Thank you, Crocodile.”

            “Koby!” Garp snaps from the boardwalk of his ship. Both Helmeppo and Koby stiffen at the Vice Admiral’s voice. “Quit fraternizing with the enemy and get back on the ship.”

            The two hurry back to the ship as Garp reaches Crocodile. He reaches into his pocket and pulls something out before handing it to Crocodile. Crocodile takes it and turns the small wooden object in his hand.

            “An eternal pose?” He glances at Garp.

            “I found it a while back. Never had much use for it over the past few years but I figured it was safe to have. If you need to get a hold of Dragon, then this is your best bet.” Garp says. Crocodile slips the log pose into his pocket. They stand by the shore, listening to the water crash into the sand.

            “Thank you.” Crocodile meets his eyes. Garp looks away with a smirk.

            “Just do something about his gloomy attitude. That’s all I ask.”

            They say nothing else to each other as they both board their own ships and begin sailing in different directions. Daz walks up to Crocodile as he takes the helm.

            “Where to now?” Daz watches Crocodile pull out the eternal log pose and hold it up to get his heading.

            “How do you feel about meeting back up with some of the inmates we broke out with?” Crocodile chuckles as he turns the ship. Daz lets out a tired sigh but doesn’t argue. Crocodile turns the ship until its pointing straight ahead to the Kamabakka kingdom.

Chapter Text

With the events at Marineford wrapping up, most of the heavy hitters have either fled the battlefield or have retreated deeper within the remains of the once proud Naval Headquarters. By now, Doflamingo is the only one that still lingers. He sits on a crate, watching the pasifistas get corralled onto a ship to be sent off to be repaired by Vegapunk. As the last one loads onto the ship, a wide grin stretches across his face.
“Turning a warlord into a mindless killing machine that bows to the military’s every whim. Makes you wonder what could be in store for our future?” He says with a low chuckle. Sentomaru stares at him.
“This doesn’t concern you, Donquixote Doflamingo.” He turns to board the ship after giving him a warning glare. Doflamingo can only laugh.
“Doflamingo,” Tsuru approaches from behind. He glances over his shoulder to find her frowning with the usual amount of disdain. “It’s high time you disembark. Your assistance is no longer needed.”
Doflamingo gives a heh and slides off the crate. He slips his hands into his pockets as he approaches her. He only stops when he is so close that it forces her to look up at him. Her expression doesn’t change.
“How kind of you to have volunteered to be my chaperone,” His grin widens but still, her expression is the same. “But there’s someone I need to speak with. So, you won’t be getting rid of me just yet.”
It amuses him when her eyebrows raise. He lets out a low laugh and steps past her.
She calls after him. “Who could you possibly need to speak with?”
He doesn’t waste his breath answering her. The fall of Whitebeard meant a new era would be ushering in and already the world has shaken. Between Blackbeard taking Whitebeard’s devil fruit, granting him two devil fruits, the mere existence of the pasifista’s, the death of Gold Roger’s son, and the last one… Monkey D. Luffy. The vein in Doflamingo’s temple throbs as Sengoku’s announcement rings in his ears.
“The child of Monkey D. Dragon,” Doflamingo’s body tenses as he speaks to no one but himself. An old wound begins to ache in his gut. Another memory emerges bringing him to a stop. Lifting a hand to his face, he erupts into laughter. “Could it really all be a coincidence… Crocodile?”
During the battle, Doflamingo had suggested they team up. It has never been a secret that Doflamingo coveted Crocodile’s mind. He is a man who could come up with a plan that would bring the world to its knees, provided he had the right resources. Resources Doflamingo was ready and willing to give. But the man is as stubborn as ever. He can’t say he was surprised to hear his so blatant refusal, but when Crocodile saved Portgas D. Ace, stalling his execution, Doflamingo had been seething. Crocodile doesn’t ally with others. Especially not with Whitebeard.
“But it wasn’t Whitebeard you were allying yourself with, was it?” Doflamingo steps in between two structures and smashes his fist into the side of an already crumbling building. His hit causes what’s left of the wall to crumble. The vein in his temple throbs harder. “It was him wasn’t it… but then again, it’s always been him.”
After Doflamingo had confronted Crocodile, they sparred. Crocodile had made Doflamingo angry, so he decided to teach him a lesson. But then Straw Hat Luffy had let out his conquerors spirit, shocking everyone who could withstand its reach. Doflamingo had laughed, because of course the brat would have the conquerors spirit. But while Doflamingo laughed, Crocodile looked like he had seen a ghost. When Crocodile tried to slip past, Doflamingo stopped him.
“Not trying to skip out on me, are you?” He used his strings to slice through the ground, but Crocodile easily dodged it. It was like a dance. Crocodile would try and mummify Doflamingo while Doflamingo would try to slice Crocodile to pieces. A nice sadistic dance of just the two of them. When Crocodile landed a few feet away, Doflamingo frowned, his anger spiking. Because Crocodile’s focus wasn’t on him, but on Straw Hat Luffy. “Am I not entertaining enough? Perhaps I should—”
“Dammit Mingo, out of my way!” Crocodile yelled just before sending out another one of his sables. Normally, Doflamingo would have dodged it with ease. But he had been paralyzed by a single word. Mingo. He hadn’t been called that in almost 2 decades. Hearing that name summoned the image of the only person to ever call him that. He could suddenly see them sitting in his bedroom windowsill, a cigar dangling between their fingers as they turned their face towards the breeze. He could still smell the sweetness in the rich smoke. Then they turned their face towards him and lifted the cigar to their mouth. Mingo. By the time he snapped out of his daze, Crocodile was already at Straw Hat’s side, facing Mihawk.
Doflamingo lets out an angry laugh. He runs a hand through his hair and leans against the opposite wall. A few marines walk past but scurry off when they catch the unhinged look across Doflamingo’s face.
“So, I was right,” Doflamingo laughs in a low rumble. “You’re alive… my secret Corazon.”
*
Doflamingo doubts that he’ll ever forget the day he first saw him. He had been on a small island to handle some business. It was menial enough that he wasn’t needed, so while his family was taking care of things, Doflamingo found himself strolling through a nearby town. Usually, he wouldn’t have bothered to subject himself to breathe the same air as common filth, but he was in an especially good mood that day. It wasn’t long until he found himself in the town library. Knowledge is power after all, and Doflamingo would never pass up an opportunity to learn something new. He remembers being surprised by how large this small-town library was. But as he meandered through the several bookshelves, he found something even more surprising: A woman from Amazon Lily.
He had never encountered someone from Amazon Lily, but he had heard of them. Most things said about the people were no more than uncouth rumors that made Doflamingo’s eye’s roll. He had no interest in the words of lusty men. Eventually he learned of their warriors and way of life. It intrigued him until discovering that they knew practically nothing of the outside world. They were content to stay oblivious and that was all he needed to lose all interest in them.
And despite that, there one was, standing in front of him in a library on an insignificant island. The warrior looked flustered as she whispered to someone Doflamingo couldn’t yet see. This piqued his interest enough to want to see who they were talking to. He slowly made his way around the room until he got his first view of him.
Sitting at a table with books both stacked and scattered around him, was the Snake Empress. He had been hunched over an open book, completely enthralled with what he was reading. A strand of dark hair had fallen in his face. Doflamingo observed how he brushed it behind his ear, letting his fingers linger for a moment before bringing the hand down again. Doflamingo didn’t try to hide the fact that he was staring. There was something about this person that drew him in.
The woman next to him looked eager to leave but the Snake Empress would only wave her away as he read. Without meaning to, Doflamingo spent the afternoon watching him devour book after book. While Doflamingo had never been naïve enough to call Amazons savages, ignorant felt more fitting. But this one was different. Never had he seen someone so hungry for knowledge. Sometimes he would look back on that day and wonder why he never approached him. But he couldn’t stay there forever, and eventually he had to return to his ship.
It wouldn’t be until he received the ominous letter inviting him for an interview with the Navy that he would see him again. It had felt like fate when the doors to the dome shaped room opened and in walked the same Amazon that had captivated Doflamingo. In the time between that day, Doflamingo had recognized his face in the paper and watched his career with interest. In each article it told of how calculated and ruthless he was with his enemies. His strategies against both pirates and marines put his foes to shame. For a time, it seemed all he wanted to read about was the Snake Empress. But it wasn’t until that day when they were to be interviewed that he realized something.
I want you.
At the time, he had only wanted his mind. He would have been a great addition to the family. Vergo was leaving to become a spy in the marines, so a spot had opened up. And with Doflamingo developing plans for his future, it seemed perfect. But he got a sense that this wasn’t something he should rush. So instead, he gave the Snake Empress his number and watched him flee the restaurant after their meal.
“Young Master, will they be a new potential addition to the family?” Giola had asked.
Doflamingo didn’t answer. Instead, he rested his head in his propped hand, tapping his finger lazily against his sunglasses and grinned.
He and his crew had left shortly after that only to read about everything they missed in the morning paper. Monkey D. Dragon and his fellow revolutionaries had attacked two world noble ships. But it was Dragon who had successfully killed a Celestial Dragon. He immediately became the Governments most wanted criminal. But as jarring as that news was, there was one picture at the bottom right that captured Doflamingo’s attention. In it, Dragon stalked through the pouring rain while carrying the Amazon in his arms. The Amazon looked an inch from death in the photo. Below the picture was a single paragraph.
Monkey D. Dragon carries the unconscious Snake Empress through the empty streets after killing a Celestial Dragon. It is unclear if the Snake Empress was caught up in the Revolutionaries evil deeds or if she was directly involved. Both parties disappeared shortly after this photo was taken.
“Monkey D. Dragon, huh?” The vein in Doflamingo’s temple throbbed.
After that article the Amazon was less and less in the papers. Eventually he stopped searching for him and let his focus return to his work. But it wouldn’t be long before fate put them back together.
Like all the times before, it was pure chance that they would be reunited. Doflamingo was seeking refuge from the rain when he came across a casino. They had stopped on that island to restock supplies and Doflamingo had decided to see what the nightlife had to offer when it started to downpour. Inside, the large open room was dimly lit and filled with game tables. A thick haze of smoke hung in the air mixed with the different assortment of colognes, perfumes, and alcohol. And there, across the room was him.
He sat facing the entrance giving Doflamingo a clear view of his face. A cigar hung from his lips as he placed his cards on the table. The other three men reacted with disapproval. When the man sitting directly across from him stood and reached out for the winnings, the Amazon grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted it until even Doflamingo could hear the pop. The three men retreated with the one clutching his broken wrist.
Doflamingo approached the table. “Mind if I join?”
His eyes cut straight to Doflamingo’s, his once cocky smile slowly slipping into a neutral mask. He breaks away first to finish collecting his winnings from the last game. Doflamingo sits as the dealer shuffles out a new set of cards. The Amazon rests back in his chair in a leisurely lean. He lets out a puff of smoke while absently swirling a glass of whiskey in his palm.
Doflamingo leans back in his own chair, mimicking the Amazon’s posture. They both place their bets as he taps his finger against the felt tabletop. “You never called.”
The Amazon glances at his cards before taking a sip of his drink. “I lost your number.”
“Is that so.” Doflamingo’s mouth quirks into a tight grin while a vein in his temple throbs. He peeks at his cards. They’re good but not great.
The Amazon grabs a few of his chips and slides them to the center of the table. “I raise you.”
Doflamingo brings his hand to his chin, partially hiding his smirk. He lifts his right leg so that his heel is resting in the chair. “Fine, I’ll call.”
Doflamingo takes his chips and moves them next to his before pausing. The Amazon glances at him when he’s noticed that Doflamingo hasn’t moved.
“Actually,” Doflamingo says as he finally retracts his hand. “I’d like to raise you.”
The Amazon arches a brow when Doflamingo doesn’t provide anymore chips. Doflamingo shifts in his chair, enjoying the way the Amazon’s eyes narrow when he’s confused.
“If I win, then you come with me and see how life is within the Donquixote family,” He lifts his hand to quickly add, “As a trial run of course. I’m not forcing you to join my crew.”
The Amazon’s expression returns to neutral as he considers this. He takes what’s left of his cigar and puts it out in a crystal ash tray. Doflamingo watches with patience as he leans back in his chair, sipping his drink.
“How long would this trial run be exactly?” He places his glass on the green felt.
“One week.” Doflamingo doesn’t hesitate. As if this had been his plan all along.
“And what do I get if I win?”
“Why, you’ll get the most coveted thing of all. A favor from me.” Doflamingo places a humble hand on his chest. The Amazon rolls his eyes as he lifts his drink back to his lips. He takes a sip, never breaking eye contact.
“Fine.”
The dealer announces that there will be no more bets as they both show their cards. The Amazon reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a fresh cigar and silver lighter. He slips the cigar between his lips and tries to ignite a flame. Doflamingo raises out of his chair and walks around to sit on the edge of the table next to the Amazon. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his pink lighter and sparks a flame instantly.
“Would you like me to show you to the ship?” he offers his light. The Amazon stares at the steady flame before begrudgingly leaning in and lighting his cigar.

To be continued…