One Piece fic-PoSM, Chapter 5
Title: The Psychology of a Shattered Mind
Chapter Title: Buoy
Rating: PG-13 / T
Characters: Mostly Usopp, Franky, Luffy
Word Count: About 3.9k
Warnings: Disturbing imagery, implications of non-con/dub-con, and violence. Potential spoilers for entire series. Angsty Usopp and blatant excuse for nakama comfort. This will be intense. Possible spoilers for entire series. AU from Usopp being stuck on the Bowin Islands.
Can also be found at FF.net here. Comments appreciated, although if you're up to it I kinda prefer an FF.net review. Con Crit loved also.
Chapter links (on LJ): Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15
Franky can't take more than half-steps unless he wants to overtake the sniper hobbling along ahead of him. At the beginning of the ship tour-crap, he's angry all over again just at the thought that Usopp needs one!-he'd had a hand on Usopp's shoulder to guide him around. He soon realized, however, that even this small contact made him very tense, and so has dropped his hand in favor of verbal prompts-"turn right here," "yeah, go on ahead and open the door," "it's the ladies' quarters, I'm sure it'll be fine just this once since we're on a tour…."
Usopp's not such a wreck to look at now. Even from the back it's easy to tell. A lot of the bandages have come off, though the casts haven't. His excessive boniness is also starting to smooth out, thanks to the joint plotting of Chopper and Sanji, who seem to have made it their personal life goals to fatten the kid up. Usopp always has been more of a string bean than a marshmallow, but there is a surprisingly big difference between a healthy look and one where you can count every bone.
Needless to say, Luffy hasn't tried to eat food slated to be Usopp's since that one attempt two days ago, and their captain doesn't seem inclined to try again any time soon. Franky grins at the memory of the incident. Sanji he might have expected, but he didn't know Chopper had that much scary in him.
Usopp's shown a mild curiosity at nearly everything, brightening particularly at the Aquarium Bar and the bath. This curiosity pleases Franky immensely. He'll take almost anything over that silent, blank stare out at the sea that Usopp seems to prefer. It scares the cyborg, because what should be in those eyes is a creative gleam and a troublemaker's grin.
That's why Franky's saved the best-the most important-for last.
Usopp glances back as they reemerge from Channel 4.
"Yep, that door, right down that hall," Franky confirms, unable to help splitting a grin. "That'll be our last stop."
Usopp proceeds to swing the door open without stepping inside. He pokes his head into the room first, looking about, body tensed. For what, Franky doesn't know, but this has happened at every doorway, adding another reason to the pile of "why I am hitting the next Celestial Dragon I see with a blast from the Gaon Cannon."
While Franky's temporarily lost in his own thoughts of colorful explosions, Usopp's proceeded into the room, and he now stands staring at the words at the words on the left wall. Franky trots in after him.
"Usopp…Factory…?" Usopp questions.
"Yep," Franky says, reveling at how right it feels to have Usopp standing in this room once more, after so long. He almost claps a hand on Usopp's shoulder, but catches himself in time to keep Usopp from seeing Franky even move. He knows Usopp's not up to that sort of thing yet, but freaking sweet cola, it's so hard to resist!
Usopp turns slowly to face him, his eyes wide. "This whole room…is just for me?"
Franky nods, swallowing against the lump in his throat at the truly amazed expression on Usopp's face. "That half, anyway." Franky motions to the other side, where he has his workshop. "That's my space over there. And it's been pretty lonely down here without you, Usopp."
"So…I'm down here all the time, and hanging out with you?" They stare at each other for a long moment, Usopp still amazed, and a little questioning, Franky, stoic.
Yes. Franky is definitely stoic, because he is not starting to tear up. Which is why, a few moments later, he is most definitely not crying. Nope. He is not crying he is not crying he is not-
"It was horrible! Unbelievably lonely!" Franky wails, all semblance of self-control snapping like so many overstressed machinery parts. He's held back for a good hour-no, it's not just that long, he's been holding back for the good last two weeks-and this is his limit. He catches Usopp up in a bear hug, and Usopp's startled squawk is easily drowned out by Franky's howling. "I missed you, bro!"
"Hmph uhumu uuk oo," says Usopp.
After a long moment in which the cola is running extra fast in his chest, mirroring his rush of emotion, he realizes that Usopp is pulling at his arm and kicking his shin. His grip on the sniper may actually be leaving the guy a little breathless.
Oops.
He drops Usopp, who stumbles backward, hunched over and taking in huge gulps of air. Feeling sheepish, Franky makes to support him, but Usopp holds up a hand. "Space…"
"Usopp, I-"
The hand waves in the air pointedly. "Space-" Usopp gasps, "-please."
"…Right." Franky backs up, remorseful. He simply couldn't help himself anymore, although he does regret causing Usopp any pain….
Usopp moves over to the invention platform and sits down on it. Sucking in another deep breath and then releasing it, he rubs at one temple. "…would you mind if I just…stayed down here for a while? Y'know…on my own?"
It's a glaring hint that even Franky can tell he better take. Feeling a slight burn of embarrassment for pushing Usopp's limits, he rubs at one arm and turns to the stairs, trying to sound light. "Hey, no problem. Don't, uh…try to get up the stairs or ladder if you don't think you can make it, though. One of us will be down here in a while to make sure you're all right."
"Hn," Usopp grunts, eyes closed. He's rubbing at his neck now, face scrunched like he's fighting back something, though Franky's not sure what. He's probably tired and overwhelmed by the tour and all the contact, so if he's crabby or upset, Franky can…understand. Usopp's always had a short emotional fuse and a low tolerance for stress. They were probably touring the ship for too long, but that's something Franky couldn't help doing when Usopp kept giving him those flashes of genuine enthusiasm.
With one last glance, Franky heads up to higher levels of the ship. Maybe he can ask Chopper to come down in thirty minutes and make sure Usopp's all right, but for now, quiet seems to be what the kid needs.
Franky sighs to himself. Exit bull in china shop, stage left.
Actually, they have no idea where Usopp is or what is happening to him. And why should they? They were all scattered to the four seas, most likely. "Man sold into slavery" is not a headline that makes newspapers. Slavery is supposed to be abolished, after all.
That must be it. After everything that they've been through together, he can't believe anything else-he simply can't. They haven't come because they don't know he's in trouble.
He is waiting a long time in a small room-he assumes his new "owners" are coming to collect him once the auction concludes. Usopp hopes they forget to bother.
The horror of being sold like some sort of…pet…or food…or toy…has already faded to indignation, which has in turn fallen to burning shame and cold anger. He's angry at a lot of things, but what he's angriest at right now is himself. For not being strong enough to help turn the tide at Sabaody, for sitting around on the Bowin Islands getting fat instead of getting more useful, for expecting someone nice to drop by and rescue him instead of using more caution…
He is so…stupid!
Berating ourselves for being a little normal again, are we?
…If we just keep our heads down and our eyes open, we'll find a way out of this. Either that, or your comrades will come for you. They are trustworthy people.
He knows the mindset of Sogeking when he hears it.
Sogeking is right, but he's afraid of what's going to happen to him. He's heard what the Celestial Dragons are like. They treat their slaves worse than animals and when finished with them, put them down like something with a highly contagious, incurable disease. This can't end well for him. This can't end well at all.
Despite his nerves he's almost dropping off while leaning against the far wall. When voices emanate from the other side of the door, however, he perks up. The door scrapes open, and the auction master scurries into the room. He holds the door for the white-robed figure of a Celestial Dragon. He has a notable paunch and is a little taller than any other Usopp has seen.
The two of them stare at each other a beat before the Celestial Dragon pulls a pistol and sneers. "Where you come from you may not have known this, but you must bow before us unless instructed otherwise. Is that clear, slave?"
Usopp stares, his breaths making him feel empty. He's lightheaded simply looking down the pistol's barrel. There isn't much of an internal debate before he drops to his knees and hunches over the best he can without touching nose to floor.
Stuff pirate pride, I want to live.
And that, he knows, is so pathetic. If he were someone strong like Luffy or Zoro or Sanji, he'd have put up a fight. But he's no match for this like they would be and so he's groveling.
That doesn't mean he can't hate himself for that too.
He can ignore the shame but he can't fight back the sharp sourness in his throat. He scrunches his eyes shut and tries not to think about what he is doing. Later he'll fantasize that he walked up to this guy and punched him in the face, and for some reason, he'll be wearing a straw hat. He'll leave that part out in the telling, of course. Luffy wears straw hats, not him.
There is a satisfied-sounding grunt, and what Usopp thinks is the clicking of the gun going back into the holster.
So…this is Saint Iddis.
His short life is already looking a lot shorter.
"Very good," says the gun-wielding Celestial Dragon. "You may come in, Iddis."
Wait…what?
A lighter tread, alighting on the ground step by step rather than shuffling over it, approaches. It stops in front of Usopp. He wants to look up, to see who the heck this Saint Iddis is, but thinks better of lifting his head without being told.
"Very good. Precisely how. Careful with the trigger-wouldn't want to shoot him accidentally. Not that it much matters, but buying slaves these days is a troublesome venture. Now, as you wish-but if he doesn't obey at first, make it obvious who is in charge."
Usopp starts sweating again.
"Right," says Saint Iddis, and Usopp recognizes the voice as the one who had called out that he was Saint Iddis. The other one, the first one to enter this room, had called out the bid-what had the auctioneer said? Gashim…? Gethwin…?
"All right, Booga-shaka-" begins Saint Iddis, before he is interrupted by the first one.
"No, no. We do not address them by a name unless absolutely necessary. Such low life forms do not deserve that acknowledgment."
Saint Iddis shifts, something abashed in the way his long robe moves, dipping against the ground. "Oh…sorry, Father."
Fa…ther…? Wait. Wait a second-
"Slave, look up at me," comes the new command.
Usopp doesn't have to crane his neck as far as he might have assumed. His jaw grows slack at the round-cheeked, smooth-skinned face of a boy. The boy's eyes are dark, like those of all the other Celestial Dragons he's seen, but they glitter with an openness and simplicity that seems almost universal to the attitude of children. It suits Saint Iddis, however, something that Usopp didn't know was possible for a Celestial Dragon. In his mind, even the kids had a certain coldness. Saint Iddis's grin widens. "Very good," Saint Iddis says, sounding so much like the father that Usopp is taken aback again. Saint Iddis grins over at the other Celestial Dragon. "I did it! It listened!"
Usopp's mouth moves in preparation to protest being referred to as "it," but the words die before they ever leave his lips as a fresh wave of shock rocks him. Everything is beginning to connect. The way that voice had sounded, the mistake of the auctioneer…
It all makes sense. The ridiculousness of it all…
Bought as a slave.
Bought by an eleven year old kid.
Usopp spends several moments massaging his temples after Franky leaves, trying to control the headache that has sprung up behind his eyes. He'd be a bit scared of the cyborg for nearly crushing him like that, but Franky had seemed so honestly ashamed of the action that Usopp was willing to discount it as an anomaly-as a simple matter of Franky being strange-and not as him harboring some sort of secret ill-will. These people won't hurt him, they rescued him from that hell-hole he'd been trapped in-he has to keep telling himself that. Enough times that he totally believes it.
He's getting there. While he doesn't exactly trust all of the crew yet, there are only one or two that seem more suspicious than Franky, and beyond those, only one who Usopp plans to go to any length to avoid. He's even reluctant to be on the same ship at this point. After all, the very idea of being on the cutting end of that green-haired guy's blades again makes him feel ill. Like with some sort of weird I'll-die-if-he-points-those-things-at-me-again-disease.
However, he doesn't have much choice about being as near to the swordsman as he is. There's nowhere he can swim to, since they're out in the middle of the ocean. Besides, if he tries to jump ship, Luffy will probably jump in after him without a second thought, attempting a "rescue." The doctor, too, if given the chance, and Usopp's already seen that the two of them are like rocks in the water. While he'd be a bit more comfortable with extra distance, especially in the case of the swordsman, he doesn't want to drown himself, and Luffy and Chopper, in the process.
Cracking his eyes open as the headache recedes, he glances about, contemplating getting up and investigating what looks like a pile of useless junk boxed in one corner. After a bit of tried-and-true procrastination-he likes to revel in the freedom of being able to procrastinate-curiosity takes over and he hauls himself back to his feet, heading over to the pile. If he's correct about what he used to do in this room, all this stuff was invention material.
Digging through the pile leaves him a little disappointed. He can't imagine how he could make anything out of this junk…
Reaching the bottom of the boxed area, he frowns at the loose floorboard that shifts under his hand. It doesn't make sense. From what he's seen, Franky prides himself on keeping the very seams of this ship perfectly aligned, smooth and tight. This thing looks like he could remove it entirely if he could get his fingers enough of a grip.
He works at the board for several minutes, nearly pulling his own fingernails off in the process. After removing it, he squints down into the hole that he's revealed. Something in the darkness glints when he shifts. He reaches down in fits and starts, hand alighting on something hard, partly wrapped in cloth.
He pulls the object from the hole, plopping to the ground as disentangles it from a red shroud, nearly stabbing his finger on some sort of pin in the fabric. Now having it successfully unwrapped, he turns it over in his hands. The yellow surface has seen some abuse, but the scratches have been polished. He runs a finger over the wide lines of bright blue running from the upper right to the middle of the left. The spikes decorating the top make him think of a rising sun. And what is up with the lips and…that moustache?
The mask is kinda…cool, and very familiar. He's seen it before, he knows he has, but he can't think of where.
Maybe Luffy can tell me.
He tucks the mask under one arm and uses the crutch to clamber back to his feet. It'll be hard to get back to the upper deck without help, but he doesn't want to wait another minute to find out about this thing. The mask tingles at the edges of his mind. It's that one piece in a puzzle that seems like, if he could simply figure out, a lot more pieces would fall into place after it.
Twenty minutes of nearly falling backward off stairs and ladders later, he emerges, blinking, onto the lower deck-after a careful examination of the area. The swordsman isn't anywhere that he can see, and that is a relief. The question is, where is Luffy?
Well, walk around in plain view for a bit and the rubberman will probably full-body tackle him-or try to. The others have been surprisingly good at catching Luffy before he actually makes contact. Usopp is also rather practiced at dodging random attacks…
He makes it halfway to the stairs before he hears Luffy screaming his name. Really, if they were anywhere but the middle of nowhere, he'd want to pretend he doesn't know the guy. Searching his surroundings, he spots Luffy's hands on the third level railing and hobbles as fast as possible to the near wall, where he'll be protected from a straight rocket.
Without comment, he watches Luffy ram face-first into the grass and bounce a few times. He's not sure why the guy's so eager to get a mouthful of greens, especially when he hates vegetables. Besides, Franky'll be mad if the damage is bad enough to notice.
Luffy jumps back to his feet with a disappointed and dazed look, which he shoots in Usopp's direction. "Oi, what'd ya step outta the way for?" he whines, then grimaces and splutters out a few spit-slimed blades, his tongue hanging out afterward. "Yech."
Usopp swallows back the strange bubble of warmth that rises in his throat. It might be amusement, but it feels like it could be tears, too, so he thinks it better not to indulge. Instead, he fingers the mask under his arm and contemplates possible questions. Whether there's a lot or a little to know, it doesn't matter. What matters is the what, and that, he's not sure about.
"Neh? Wha-what's that?" Luffy reels in a zigzag towards him, disappointment replaced by curiosity. "Hey, what's that?" He seems to have regained the ability to walk in a straight line by the time he reaches Usopp.
"I…I was kinda hoping…"
…That you could tell me, Usopp means to finish, before he's cut off by Luffy's cry of joy and half-blinded by the gleam that enters the boy's eyes.
"Where'd you get that?" Luffy stretches eager, twitching hands for the mask tucked under Usopp's arm.
Maybe this was a bad idea, he muses, afraid Luffy will snatch the object away and similarly afraid to deny the guy what he wants. "Found it," he says, "In my…er…" it seems a little odd to claim all that down there as his, so he scrambles to rephrase with something a little less direct, "You know…in the Usopp Factory."
"Really? Awesome!" Luffy cries, leaving Usopp blinking at the intensity of Luffy's excitement. "Sogeking gave you his mask? Let me see, let me see!"
"Soge…"
Barely feeling Luffy snatching the mask out from under his arm, he freezes. In the wake of that word, Luffy's sparkly oo-ing and ah-ing takes place in silence. Something that sears like fire blazes through his gut, rising up-
"Sogeking…"
He remembers.
-the flames are shaped like a phoenix, burning a path upward until colliding with the target and shredding it to fiery pieces. Luffy's serious; he didn't know Luffy could be so aware of the implications of this action. He's scared silly and impossibly proud at the same time-scared and proud that he could be the one to do this, that he could be so strong, that he could one of those that puts the hope in Robin's eyes-
-Luffy's saying something to him but the odd hissing that's taken up in his ears is drowning out the words, and there's darkness at the edges of his vision, and Luffy's look is changing from enthralled to concerned-
-He gives the knots in the last cord a tug and holds out the finished weapon, grim as the light glints on the painted surface. This will be his masterpiece and trump card-
Luffy's lips appear to be doing nothing more than mouthing his name, concern turned to anxiety. Luffy grips his arms and shakes, but he barely feels the pressure and movement as thoughts and scenes are whirring, flashing-colors, voices, emotions-foreign and close at hand-all of it more wondrous than he can describe and blurred at the edges, like something out of a waking dream.
He wants to tell Luffy how amazing these images are-how much this crew is in them-together and separate and together again-but the brilliance is as suffocating as it is thrilling. He only manages to choke out Luffy's name before it all halts, slamming into a wall of blackness, the images tearing away and leaving him struggling to breathe in an abruptly monochrome world. Luffy's support is awkward, aimed more at keeping Usopp on his feet than lowering him to the ground gently, so he ends up sagging heavily against their rubbery captain. His right side feels numb and unresponsive, then his ears pop and his hearing rushes back. Luffy is shouting his name and shaking him, still.
"What's your problem?" Grumbles a rough voice, accompanying metallic clinking growing in volume.
He struggles to move a little, because he recognizes the voice of the swordsman.
"First he got this weird look and then he started twitching and then his eyes rolled up and he was falling over but I caught him but he won't talk back and I can't figure out but he might be dying-" Luffy rattles off so fast that Usopp can barely make sense of it. Luffy keeps shaking him periodically, which is only adding to his haze of disorientation.
"Well if he might be dying, quit jerking him around and lay him out flat! Don't you even know how to do that much?" The swordsman sounds highly annoyed, and strong hands pull him away from Luffy, lowering him to the deck. Even the grass tickling the back of his neck can't distract from the muscled bulk now peering down at him with a deep frown. He'd even be satisfied with crawling away-anything to escape that piercing glare. With his right side acting so strangely, however, he's not even able to roll over effectively. "Jeeze," the swordsman mutters.
"Zoro…" Luffy warbles, sounding like a kid who's been denied his favorite dessert.
"Just stay here and I'll get Chopper. And quit trying to shake him to pieces. Idiot."
Still breathless, he stares up at Luffy as the now weepy-eyed, long-faced boy crouches down and wraps his arms around his knees, staring down with uncharacteristic solemness. Usopp can only struggle for air and, thinking back on those flashes of sensation and image, wonder: what the heck was that all about?
Continued in Chapter 6: Lighthouse