(Fic) Final Betrayal Chapter Eight: Part 3 of 3
Title: Final Betrayal
Author: AstroKender
Pairings: nearly gen, but with somewhat irrefutable hints of Luffy/Zoro visa-versa. Other pairings hinted at and/or mentioned.
Warnings: Rated T for swearing, violence, blood, and angst. Contains Spoilers. Additional warnings for me just making shit up, like future crewmembers, fighting abilities and whatnot.
Spoilers: Current manga chapters, crew and Luffy’s relations. Do not read if you care about spoilers and are not up to date.
Notes: Wow, this chapter’s word count nearly hit the 10K mark! I had to break it up into three parts! Enjoy!
Final Betrayal - Chapter 8
~fading~
Rockstar was on his feet and at his elbow as soon as he stepped into the room.
“Can I get you a drink, Boss?” he asked as he offered his captain a chair.
“Nay, man. It’s not a night for drink.” Shanks replied, giving a heavy sigh as he lowered himself into the seat. He frowned. The room smelled of sickness. “Tonight, even the finest spirits would taste like vinegar. Go ahead and take a break, lad. Us old men will take over from here.”
Rockstar nodded and quickly made his exit.
The redhead’s sharp eyes moved to the figure on the bed. He wasn’t a medical man, nor even anything up to Ben’s standards, but he could tell immediately that he was in the presence of a dying man.
Zoro lay flush across the mattress, his skin blending in seamlessly with the white sheets he lay on. By contrast, the veins in his neck stood out like creeping blue ivy. His breathing was labored; coming in fits and starts. Sweat beaded across his face and the parts of his torso that wasn’t swathed tightly in bandages.
Ben scrubbed his hands down in a pan of water and moved to examine the wounded swordsman. His large hands flit delicately across Zoro’s arms and chest, measuring things like pulse-rates and blood pressure and who-knows what else. Shanks watched him in silence. After a moment, Ben began to speak. Whether he was doing so for his captain’s benefit or was keeping up a running commentary purely for himself, it was hard to say. Shanks listened closely either way.
“The boy’s sweating like mad but he hasn’t a fever.” He put his ear briefly to Zoro’s chest and frowned, before moving to touch the swordsman’s wrist. “I can’t hear the heartbeat clearly; it’s muffled. And his pulse is all over the place.”
Ben stepped back with a curse, pinching the bridge of his nose. Shanks took in his First Mate’s slumped shoulders and asked the question that he already knew the answer to.
“What does it mean?”
Ben’s lips were thin and bloodless as he looked over at the other. “It means we’re losing him. Damn it!” The taller man cursed suddenly, smacking the side of his fist against the wall.
Shanks lowered his head. He thought of Luffy. And he thought of what he would feel if faced with a similar situation. The swift stab of pain that penetrated his chest could only be the tip of the iceberg compared to what his protégé must be feeling. Shanks teeth gnashed together in frustration. Hope was just a few hours away and yet it seemed as if they would trip at the finish line.
He let himself wallow in the unfairness of it all, just for a moment. Then he straightened and rose to his feet.
“You did all you could and more,” he said soothingly as he gripped his mate’s arm. “Some things….” He trailed off.
Ben nodded mutely, his face turned away. Releasing his grip, Shanks moved to stand over Zoro. Already the swordsman’s breathing seemed slower, shallower. Shanks stared down at him for a long moment, memorizing his every feature.
“You were a brave lad. Larger than life from what I hear.” He reached out and gave the cool hand a squeeze. “Thank you, for all that you did for him.” His words were heartfelt. Luffy meant a lot to him, and he knew the boy wouldn’t have gotten as far as he did without this man at his side.
As Shanks moved his hand away, his fingers purposely pulled something with them.
“His ring?” Ben questioned curiously. Wearily.
“I’ll send it back to them,” Shanks replied softly, as if the owner was merely sleeping. “It’ll be something, at least.” He stowed the band of gold safely in his breast pocket. “I’ll get the boys to prepare a dawn service. He’s a pirate, so we’ll give him a proper burial at sea.”
“Don’t be so hasty to shroud the boy, Red Hair.” A voice chided from the entryway.
“You…” Turning, Ben’s eyes widened a fraction.
Shanks donned a lighter attitude like a cloak. “Does no one sleep any more?” he sighed.
“I believe Roronoa Zoro still has some fight left in him.” The figure swept into the room dramatically, his golden eyes fixed on the man in question. A wave of energy followed him into the room, washing over the others like hot ash. Zoro’s breathing hitched visibly.
“What are you doing?” Ben demanded angrily. “Douse your spirit man! His body can’t take it.”
The other didn’t even spare him a glance.
“Leave us,” he ordered in a whisper.
The larger man moved to protest, but Shanks halted him. “Let’s do as he says, Ben. If what you were saying was true, he can do no more harm.”
Ben still seemed unconvinced, but after looking into his captain’s eyes, he decided to go with it. With a final glare at the intruder, Beckman allowed the redhead to escort him out of the room.
The dark figure stood in silence for a moment, before walking forward and placing a thin hand across the swordsman’s brow. His voice, when he spoke up, was sharp and biting.
“So, you choose to give up, young man? That does not sound like the swordsman I know.”
It seemed to him that Zoro squirmed invisibly against his palm. Pressing harder, the man continued mercilessly.
“I know you are hurt, but don’t run away from it like a coward. You’re supposed to be the greatest. I certainly didn’t lose to you so you could die like this.”
Zoro’s breathing turned harsh. His face was slowly turning red, save for the points of white pressure from alien fingertips. The sweat evaporated off his body in lightly trailing tendrils of mist. Behind his heavy lids, Zoro’s eyes began to move.
“Fight, young Zoro!” the figure hissed. “Fight and survive, or die and be forever known as a fraud!”
Zoro stilled so suddenly it was as if he’d been instantly struck dead. Then, a dozen, long heartbeats later he breathed out, and then back in again. His breathing continued smoothly, evenly, his face loosing some of its paleness. His soul worn out, his body limp; Zoro slept.
The lips under the well-groomed mustache tightened upwards in a smile. The man patted the swordsman’s cheek. “Good lad.”
The captain and his mate were waiting for him when he exited the room. He paused there, his head tilted back to take in the glow of the moon.
“Well?” Ben impatiently broke the silence. The other looked at him.
“It is not yet his time.”
Shanks broke out into a relieved smile. He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head in admiration. “You’re a man full of unending surprises, Hawk Eyes.”
“Thanks,” Ben added simply.
Mihawk inclined his head slightly. “Goodnight gentlemen.” He walked away and swiftly disappeared into the shadows.
Lighting up a cigarette, Ben turned a rueful eye to his friend. “I thought you weren’t going to tell him Roronoa was on the ship?” he accused jokingly.
Shanks returned the stare with bemusement. “Heh. Funny thing, that.” His hand reached up and grabbed Ben’s, moving it to his mouth to steal a rare hit off the other’s smoke. Exhaling it out in a perfect ring, he chuckled and admitted:
“Fact of the matter is: I didn’t.”
~drink~
Sanji walked the beach. The storm had been violent, but passed quickly. Through it all the Straw Hats had taken refuge in Usopp’s old house, listening to the rain hit the roof in sheets as thunder rolled intermittently. They talked long into the night as they huddled around the fireplace, reminiscing on old times. All except Luffy, who had taken off after Zoro’s memorial and hadn’t been seen since.
Everyone else had fallen asleep in various piles around the room. Sanji, however, remained awake, sitting on a stool near the window, smoking and watching the storm’s progress across the island. When the rain finally abated, some hours before morning, the blond borrowed a small lantern and quietly left the house. Tucked under his arm was a small blanket and recently reclaimed green bottle of vintage wine.
The beach encompassing Syrup village wasn't a large one. Still, it took Sanji nearly an hour of walking to find his target. Large cliffs loomed over him on the inland side, creating the imposing feeling that the island was doing its best to keep foreigners out. Which was maybe why Luffy was sitting in the sand with his back to them, on the far corner of the south slope.
Luffy sat cross-legged in the damp sand, Zoro’s white katana lying across his lap. As Sanji predicted, the other man was soaked; his dark hair and clothes were practically dripping as he stared dully out towards the ocean.
If Luffy noticed the cook and his approaching lamplight, he didn’t acknowledge it. Undeterred, Sanji walked right up until he was flush beside him. He stood there silently for a moment, watching the high tide and letting the other get accustomed to his presence. Finally, he snorted.
“Not even the sense to come in out of the rain,” Sanji grumbled without looking Luffy’s way. He nonchalantly let the blanket he carried drop over his captain’s head.
“Thanks,” Luffy murmured, as the dry fabric fell softly around his shoulders.
“Chopper would freak if he saw you out here in this condition,” Sanji offered casually as he folded his long legs to sit beside the other. He grimaced when the wet sand instantly soaked his pants-seat.
He sat the lamp in front of him, studiously not taking notice of Luffy’s splotchy face and swollen eyes. Lifting up the wine, Sanji popped the cork out with his teeth and offered the first drink to his friend.
“I don’t drink,” Luffy’s words were nearly inaudible.
“You should, at least for tonight. It’ll help you sleep.”
Luffy shook his head.
“He wouldn’t have wanted it to go to waste,” Sanji pressed, holding the bottle out to the other. Luffy stared at him with dark eyes before reaching up and taking it. He took a slow, long drink, coughing slightly as it burned the back of his throat.
They spent much of the time with their eyes aimed at the sea, passing the bottle wordlessly back and forth. Mindful of the others talking earlier, Sanji wondered what memories Luffy had of this island, and how prominently their lost swordsman featured in them. It was so long ago; maybe the other didn’t remember anything of it at all. It was hard to tell how his captain’s mind worked most of the time.
“We landed on this beach,” Luffy began softly, as if answering Sanji’s thoughts. “When we heard those Cat-pirates were coming, Usopp greased the slope up with oil. Nami slipped and took Zoro down with her. She climbed over him to get out, but Zoro was stuck fast.” Luffy’s shoulders shook slightly, either from laughter or cold. “Turned out the bad guys made land on the opposite beach. Boy, was Zoro mad.”
Luffy fell silent, his face twisting into a pained expression. He clutched Zoro’s sword closer to him. His chest tight, Sanji upended the wine bottle and downed the last dregs. It was damn good wine. It made his eyes burn. Sanji blinked past it. He chewed on his lip and turned the empty bottle around in his hand. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out. Frowning, the blond tried again.
“You know,” he began, his voice a little too uneven for his liking. He cleared his throat before continuing. “Your dream was the most important thing to him; more important even than his own.”
Luffy listened to this silently. Bolstered by that and by his share of the wine, Sanji brashly went on. “Stupid Swordsman. This wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this. Back in Thriller Ba--” he cut off abruptly, mentally kicking himself. Luffy was feeling bad enough without him revealing that little piece of information. The blond dropped the wine bottle and cursed. Damn that asshole for up and dying like that, leaving Sanji sitting here making excuses for him!
Chin on his knees, Luffy watched him mutely, waiting for him to continue. Sanji sighed and ran his hands through his hair.
“Shit, Luffy…” his voice was sounded both tight and tired. “You’ve got to let it go. You know you were everything to Zoro. You were his whole damn world.” Sanji’s hands clenched. “He fucking lo--”
“Don’t!” Luffy called out hoarsely, his face stricken. “Please-just, don’t.”
Sanji cleared his throat and looked away. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“It’s okay… I just--”
“I know.” Sanji took in a deep breath and tried again. “All I was saying was that idiot wouldn’t have done what he did if there had been any other way. So don’t, you know,” the blond idly dug a hole in the sand with his heel. “Don’t hold that idiot’s actions against him.” He finished in a mumble.
“I know,” Luffy smiled sadly. “I don’t.”
Sanji nodded brusquely, his face turned away. “Good.”
They sat there quietly a few minutes more, watching as the sky began to lighten in the east. It was a new day, full of choices. They both knew they couldn’t stay on this island forever. But for now, it was as good a place as any. After that….
“What are you going to do?” the cook quietly asked the question that had been plaguing on his mind.
Luffy didn’t answer immediately. After a long moment’s thought, he grunted and stood up, dusting futilely at the sand coating his shorts. He then stuck out a grain-speckled hand to his friend.
“Right now,” Luffy’s voice was steady and his eyes finally clear as he pulled Sanji to his feet. “I’m gonna get some sleep.”
Sanji thought that sounded like a good plan.
~tbc~
Back to Part 2 or Part 1
Go to Chapter Nine!
Author: AstroKender
Pairings: nearly gen, but with somewhat irrefutable hints of Luffy/Zoro visa-versa. Other pairings hinted at and/or mentioned.
Warnings: Rated T for swearing, violence, blood, and angst. Contains Spoilers. Additional warnings for me just making shit up, like future crewmembers, fighting abilities and whatnot.
Spoilers: Current manga chapters, crew and Luffy’s relations. Do not read if you care about spoilers and are not up to date.
Notes: Wow, this chapter’s word count nearly hit the 10K mark! I had to break it up into three parts! Enjoy!
Final Betrayal - Chapter 8
~fading~
Rockstar was on his feet and at his elbow as soon as he stepped into the room.
“Can I get you a drink, Boss?” he asked as he offered his captain a chair.
“Nay, man. It’s not a night for drink.” Shanks replied, giving a heavy sigh as he lowered himself into the seat. He frowned. The room smelled of sickness. “Tonight, even the finest spirits would taste like vinegar. Go ahead and take a break, lad. Us old men will take over from here.”
Rockstar nodded and quickly made his exit.
The redhead’s sharp eyes moved to the figure on the bed. He wasn’t a medical man, nor even anything up to Ben’s standards, but he could tell immediately that he was in the presence of a dying man.
Zoro lay flush across the mattress, his skin blending in seamlessly with the white sheets he lay on. By contrast, the veins in his neck stood out like creeping blue ivy. His breathing was labored; coming in fits and starts. Sweat beaded across his face and the parts of his torso that wasn’t swathed tightly in bandages.
Ben scrubbed his hands down in a pan of water and moved to examine the wounded swordsman. His large hands flit delicately across Zoro’s arms and chest, measuring things like pulse-rates and blood pressure and who-knows what else. Shanks watched him in silence. After a moment, Ben began to speak. Whether he was doing so for his captain’s benefit or was keeping up a running commentary purely for himself, it was hard to say. Shanks listened closely either way.
“The boy’s sweating like mad but he hasn’t a fever.” He put his ear briefly to Zoro’s chest and frowned, before moving to touch the swordsman’s wrist. “I can’t hear the heartbeat clearly; it’s muffled. And his pulse is all over the place.”
Ben stepped back with a curse, pinching the bridge of his nose. Shanks took in his First Mate’s slumped shoulders and asked the question that he already knew the answer to.
“What does it mean?”
Ben’s lips were thin and bloodless as he looked over at the other. “It means we’re losing him. Damn it!” The taller man cursed suddenly, smacking the side of his fist against the wall.
Shanks lowered his head. He thought of Luffy. And he thought of what he would feel if faced with a similar situation. The swift stab of pain that penetrated his chest could only be the tip of the iceberg compared to what his protégé must be feeling. Shanks teeth gnashed together in frustration. Hope was just a few hours away and yet it seemed as if they would trip at the finish line.
He let himself wallow in the unfairness of it all, just for a moment. Then he straightened and rose to his feet.
“You did all you could and more,” he said soothingly as he gripped his mate’s arm. “Some things….” He trailed off.
Ben nodded mutely, his face turned away. Releasing his grip, Shanks moved to stand over Zoro. Already the swordsman’s breathing seemed slower, shallower. Shanks stared down at him for a long moment, memorizing his every feature.
“You were a brave lad. Larger than life from what I hear.” He reached out and gave the cool hand a squeeze. “Thank you, for all that you did for him.” His words were heartfelt. Luffy meant a lot to him, and he knew the boy wouldn’t have gotten as far as he did without this man at his side.
As Shanks moved his hand away, his fingers purposely pulled something with them.
“His ring?” Ben questioned curiously. Wearily.
“I’ll send it back to them,” Shanks replied softly, as if the owner was merely sleeping. “It’ll be something, at least.” He stowed the band of gold safely in his breast pocket. “I’ll get the boys to prepare a dawn service. He’s a pirate, so we’ll give him a proper burial at sea.”
“Don’t be so hasty to shroud the boy, Red Hair.” A voice chided from the entryway.
“You…” Turning, Ben’s eyes widened a fraction.
Shanks donned a lighter attitude like a cloak. “Does no one sleep any more?” he sighed.
“I believe Roronoa Zoro still has some fight left in him.” The figure swept into the room dramatically, his golden eyes fixed on the man in question. A wave of energy followed him into the room, washing over the others like hot ash. Zoro’s breathing hitched visibly.
“What are you doing?” Ben demanded angrily. “Douse your spirit man! His body can’t take it.”
The other didn’t even spare him a glance.
“Leave us,” he ordered in a whisper.
The larger man moved to protest, but Shanks halted him. “Let’s do as he says, Ben. If what you were saying was true, he can do no more harm.”
Ben still seemed unconvinced, but after looking into his captain’s eyes, he decided to go with it. With a final glare at the intruder, Beckman allowed the redhead to escort him out of the room.
The dark figure stood in silence for a moment, before walking forward and placing a thin hand across the swordsman’s brow. His voice, when he spoke up, was sharp and biting.
“So, you choose to give up, young man? That does not sound like the swordsman I know.”
It seemed to him that Zoro squirmed invisibly against his palm. Pressing harder, the man continued mercilessly.
“I know you are hurt, but don’t run away from it like a coward. You’re supposed to be the greatest. I certainly didn’t lose to you so you could die like this.”
Zoro’s breathing turned harsh. His face was slowly turning red, save for the points of white pressure from alien fingertips. The sweat evaporated off his body in lightly trailing tendrils of mist. Behind his heavy lids, Zoro’s eyes began to move.
“Fight, young Zoro!” the figure hissed. “Fight and survive, or die and be forever known as a fraud!”
Zoro stilled so suddenly it was as if he’d been instantly struck dead. Then, a dozen, long heartbeats later he breathed out, and then back in again. His breathing continued smoothly, evenly, his face loosing some of its paleness. His soul worn out, his body limp; Zoro slept.
The lips under the well-groomed mustache tightened upwards in a smile. The man patted the swordsman’s cheek. “Good lad.”
The captain and his mate were waiting for him when he exited the room. He paused there, his head tilted back to take in the glow of the moon.
“Well?” Ben impatiently broke the silence. The other looked at him.
“It is not yet his time.”
Shanks broke out into a relieved smile. He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head in admiration. “You’re a man full of unending surprises, Hawk Eyes.”
“Thanks,” Ben added simply.
Mihawk inclined his head slightly. “Goodnight gentlemen.” He walked away and swiftly disappeared into the shadows.
Lighting up a cigarette, Ben turned a rueful eye to his friend. “I thought you weren’t going to tell him Roronoa was on the ship?” he accused jokingly.
Shanks returned the stare with bemusement. “Heh. Funny thing, that.” His hand reached up and grabbed Ben’s, moving it to his mouth to steal a rare hit off the other’s smoke. Exhaling it out in a perfect ring, he chuckled and admitted:
“Fact of the matter is: I didn’t.”
~drink~
Sanji walked the beach. The storm had been violent, but passed quickly. Through it all the Straw Hats had taken refuge in Usopp’s old house, listening to the rain hit the roof in sheets as thunder rolled intermittently. They talked long into the night as they huddled around the fireplace, reminiscing on old times. All except Luffy, who had taken off after Zoro’s memorial and hadn’t been seen since.
Everyone else had fallen asleep in various piles around the room. Sanji, however, remained awake, sitting on a stool near the window, smoking and watching the storm’s progress across the island. When the rain finally abated, some hours before morning, the blond borrowed a small lantern and quietly left the house. Tucked under his arm was a small blanket and recently reclaimed green bottle of vintage wine.
The beach encompassing Syrup village wasn't a large one. Still, it took Sanji nearly an hour of walking to find his target. Large cliffs loomed over him on the inland side, creating the imposing feeling that the island was doing its best to keep foreigners out. Which was maybe why Luffy was sitting in the sand with his back to them, on the far corner of the south slope.
Luffy sat cross-legged in the damp sand, Zoro’s white katana lying across his lap. As Sanji predicted, the other man was soaked; his dark hair and clothes were practically dripping as he stared dully out towards the ocean.
If Luffy noticed the cook and his approaching lamplight, he didn’t acknowledge it. Undeterred, Sanji walked right up until he was flush beside him. He stood there silently for a moment, watching the high tide and letting the other get accustomed to his presence. Finally, he snorted.
“Not even the sense to come in out of the rain,” Sanji grumbled without looking Luffy’s way. He nonchalantly let the blanket he carried drop over his captain’s head.
“Thanks,” Luffy murmured, as the dry fabric fell softly around his shoulders.
“Chopper would freak if he saw you out here in this condition,” Sanji offered casually as he folded his long legs to sit beside the other. He grimaced when the wet sand instantly soaked his pants-seat.
He sat the lamp in front of him, studiously not taking notice of Luffy’s splotchy face and swollen eyes. Lifting up the wine, Sanji popped the cork out with his teeth and offered the first drink to his friend.
“I don’t drink,” Luffy’s words were nearly inaudible.
“You should, at least for tonight. It’ll help you sleep.”
Luffy shook his head.
“He wouldn’t have wanted it to go to waste,” Sanji pressed, holding the bottle out to the other. Luffy stared at him with dark eyes before reaching up and taking it. He took a slow, long drink, coughing slightly as it burned the back of his throat.
They spent much of the time with their eyes aimed at the sea, passing the bottle wordlessly back and forth. Mindful of the others talking earlier, Sanji wondered what memories Luffy had of this island, and how prominently their lost swordsman featured in them. It was so long ago; maybe the other didn’t remember anything of it at all. It was hard to tell how his captain’s mind worked most of the time.
“We landed on this beach,” Luffy began softly, as if answering Sanji’s thoughts. “When we heard those Cat-pirates were coming, Usopp greased the slope up with oil. Nami slipped and took Zoro down with her. She climbed over him to get out, but Zoro was stuck fast.” Luffy’s shoulders shook slightly, either from laughter or cold. “Turned out the bad guys made land on the opposite beach. Boy, was Zoro mad.”
Luffy fell silent, his face twisting into a pained expression. He clutched Zoro’s sword closer to him. His chest tight, Sanji upended the wine bottle and downed the last dregs. It was damn good wine. It made his eyes burn. Sanji blinked past it. He chewed on his lip and turned the empty bottle around in his hand. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out. Frowning, the blond tried again.
“You know,” he began, his voice a little too uneven for his liking. He cleared his throat before continuing. “Your dream was the most important thing to him; more important even than his own.”
Luffy listened to this silently. Bolstered by that and by his share of the wine, Sanji brashly went on. “Stupid Swordsman. This wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this. Back in Thriller Ba--” he cut off abruptly, mentally kicking himself. Luffy was feeling bad enough without him revealing that little piece of information. The blond dropped the wine bottle and cursed. Damn that asshole for up and dying like that, leaving Sanji sitting here making excuses for him!
Chin on his knees, Luffy watched him mutely, waiting for him to continue. Sanji sighed and ran his hands through his hair.
“Shit, Luffy…” his voice was sounded both tight and tired. “You’ve got to let it go. You know you were everything to Zoro. You were his whole damn world.” Sanji’s hands clenched. “He fucking lo--”
“Don’t!” Luffy called out hoarsely, his face stricken. “Please-just, don’t.”
Sanji cleared his throat and looked away. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“It’s okay… I just--”
“I know.” Sanji took in a deep breath and tried again. “All I was saying was that idiot wouldn’t have done what he did if there had been any other way. So don’t, you know,” the blond idly dug a hole in the sand with his heel. “Don’t hold that idiot’s actions against him.” He finished in a mumble.
“I know,” Luffy smiled sadly. “I don’t.”
Sanji nodded brusquely, his face turned away. “Good.”
They sat there quietly a few minutes more, watching as the sky began to lighten in the east. It was a new day, full of choices. They both knew they couldn’t stay on this island forever. But for now, it was as good a place as any. After that….
“What are you going to do?” the cook quietly asked the question that had been plaguing on his mind.
Luffy didn’t answer immediately. After a long moment’s thought, he grunted and stood up, dusting futilely at the sand coating his shorts. He then stuck out a grain-speckled hand to his friend.
“Right now,” Luffy’s voice was steady and his eyes finally clear as he pulled Sanji to his feet. “I’m gonna get some sleep.”
Sanji thought that sounded like a good plan.
~tbc~
Back to Part 2 or Part 1
Go to Chapter Nine!