#old truths

            “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…

            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 to 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 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 them 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.”

It was to much. All of it was to 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.”

            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.  

            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 too 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.   

Pretty much this chapter just shows what Crocodile was doing while Dragon kicked Kizaru's ass. Seeing the scared kids, it reminded him of his childhood and growing up in Amazon Lily. His mother ignored him his entire childhood and the village treated him like an outcast for being different and is basically why he finds being the Empress suffocating (being ignored your entire life then suddenly having all eyes on you is a lot). It ends right before they go off into the city.

            “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…

(Yall... I really wasn't planning on this Freedom arc thing to be this long! But it is... so I hope you guys are enjoying it! I had a harder time writing this chapter, so I decided to give Dragon's point of view again. Also, I decided that I wanted Kizaru to get his ass kicked because I just rewatched the Sabaody arc and... yeah. I imagine at this point he's probably about as strong as Smoker was while in Loguetown. Strong but nowhere near as strong as a warlord or anything like that. I figure losing here might be some motivation to get stronger and stuff and why he chose to be the one to attack Luffy when he punched a Celestial Dragon. I dunno, again, I just wanted him to get his ass kicked.)

            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…