Request from empressakura655.
WARNINGS: I guess violence and a little bit of other stuff (sorry to be vague!) though nothing too inappropriate, I think.
A/N: I'll be more specific about the request once I've finished writing/publishing it altogether. I hope the person requesting this likes it! If not, I suppose I'll try again but I'm pretty happy with this. It isn't beta read.
Summary: Doflamingo needs to escape Impel Down. A visit from family within the walls of the unconscious mind are enough of an incentive to get the hell out. Working with the unexpected, including those he would previously see as insignificant trash only add to that. Perhaps there's another key to melting a blackened stone heart. Eventual Viola/Doflamingo! Request from empressakura655
Genre: I put 'general' just because I didn't really know where it fit. It WILL fit into romance eventually... There's a little action and adventure too though possibly saved for later.
The air was malodorous; thick with vulgar scents that abused his olfactory nerves ever since being thrown into the retched cell. The first few months were filled with incongruous hilarity as Doflamingo observed the guards' fearful expressions and the sweat accumulating on their foreheads when they expected the large ex-warlord to do something dreadful and he had thought it would never get old. Now, however, the man sits with arms outstretched by the irritating seastone chains that bind him to the walls, his feet are bound to the floor due to past "behavioural issues" and he is past the previous mild boredom. He knew exactly how long he had been in here too; 568 days of watching filth come in with "food", come in with questions he either didn't care to answer or would find the reactions to the truth hilarious; every day had been interesting to some degree and he was more than happy to mock prisoners' suffering. And now he thinks he's done with this place. He was no prisoner here and he knew exactly how many people he could bend to his will: the marines, guards, other prisoners and wardens. He hadn't spent all his days as a warlord being idle of course and even certain knowledge he carried from the admirals would be enough to wrap each one of them around his finger to some degree. The only thing really stopping him was Kaido, who he knew would be after his head the moment he left. It was even possible that if he had enough willing pawns, one of them may have been already sent to finish the job and Doflamingo was not too keen on death just yet.
From behind the dividing walls of the cell, Doflamingo observed with mild interest as the many surveillance transponder snails lining the walls suddenly began to shrivel up; the snails began to fade from their usual bright colours into a darkening grey before morphing into black. The bodies shrank into themselves, drying in the process, and began to split and crack. Their bulging eyes shrivelled with the rest of their bodies, flaking as it crumpled to a disturbing pile of hardened and shrunken chunks. At the same time, he heard an echo coming from underneath the cell floor. The sound was an indistinguishable muffled rumble of some kind and was similar to dirt and scrapes, almost like... digging. The man's typical set scowl broadened to a dark grin as from the other end of the cell, a meaty clawed hand poked from underneath. Within moments, the small hole had widened and a freaky woman's head poked through. She was by far smaller than himself with blue-tinted shades that were as unnecessary as his own slowly diminishing ones, and a stocky face whose lips were highlighted with a pale violet. Her hair was splayed out disgustingly in its unique shade of red and brown.
"Miss Merry Christmas, this is interesting..." he chuckled.
"Shut it bird! Erck! This place's disgusting, worser than them otha levels! Ba!"
Doflamingo narrowed his eyes behind his chipping glasses, angered by the mockery of a name, but instead of shouting, he simply grinned wider.
"Has that hook-handed crocodilian finally abandoned those deplorable pets now...?"
The ex-Baroque agent scowled and he could feel the anger radiate in waves, reigniting the fading spark in his life. Just seeing the rage in the other that he alone could bend to his design brought a sense of giddiness.
"Ba! Damn bird! Ain't working for that hook-hand, Zero. Pathetic excuse f'r a boss with 'is annoying banter an' lack 'f care. I worked f'r the guy for too long, I say"
Doflamingo knew this of course, as the crocodilian had abandoned his petty pawns at the war which had only made it more worth saying.
"Fuffuffuffuffu..."
"Che! And they expect me ta take you, damn bird! Ba!"
Doflamingo stopped grinning and returned to his recently-present frown.
"Which one owns your freedom this time, little mole?"
The other scowled again and looked ready to leave but the chained man took it as a sign that she had come here for more than just her own entertainment.
"Name's Teach. Blackbeard 'r somethin'. I just want out and I gotta take ya damn bird with me, ba!"
Blackbeard was that warlord that had handed in Firefist as well as killed on of Whitebeard's men. Interesting.
"There's 'n alliance between the Beasts an' Blackbeard Pirates."
This was news.
"I take it they saw use in that little ability of yours?" Doflamingo chuckled mockingly but the news was a bitter taste to his tongue.
It made sense now. Kaido was bound to kill him after his failures so he had remained in Impel Down but of course the Beast would find another way to utilise him and others. Blackbeard very likely thought he was in control through his ties with the Beast but whatever dealings they made, Doflamingo knew, were going to be inevitably shattered. And now he would be working below Blackbeard as another tool to be exploited.
"Too much trouble finding these devil fruits after killin' 'em, ba! Erck! This place still stinks worse than my feet in summer!"
"Tell me..." he decided to add and Miss Merry Christmas shut up. "How did you manage to deal with the surveillance den den mushi?"
"Eh, we got another guy, Mr. 6. He was mean'ta be with the Crocodile but Blackbeard's lackeys found 'im first anyway."
"I hear he went missing. He's with you?"
"Nah, damn Crocodile just didn't want 'im ta be seen. Too strong an' impossible ta control so he say to keep him outta it. Ba!"
"And he's with you?" Doflamingo grew impatient.
"Yeah yeah, he is. OI, SIX!"
Doflamingo twitched in mild agitation.
"GET THE HELL OUTTA THERE!" She roared down the newly formed burrow and now other prisoners were beginning to shout, thrusting themselves against the walls and bars of their cells in an angered rally for freedom but Doflamingo only ignored the noises; the yelling wouldn't do anything to encourage the wardens down faster than they were already coming anyway.
The frizzy-haired mole humanoid stood to the side as a large boney hand reached out of the hole. The hand was possibly larger than his own and he mused over the thought of the body getting stuck underground, never able to leave. The arms that came with the hand were much more narrow than the hand and now he realised that this "Mr. 6" would be just fine. However, the arms were incredibly long with three different points and clothed in a dirtied black suit. As the figure exited the hole, he could see now exactly what he looked like, not having to adjust whatsoever to the natural darkness of the underground cell. The man was an obvious descendant of the Long-Arm Tribe through his three-jointed arms that hung by his side with the peculiarly massive hands folded up against the floor due to the sheer length of them as his back was hunched over. His legs were also obscenely long, covered by large suit pants that were clearly not designed to be worn by someone of his stature, and bent at the knees to further shrink his size. This man – or creature – would look like a monster alone by his body's creepy composition. He was absolutely hairless as far as he could tell and his small white beady eyes were enough to emphasise the monstrosity. The most creepy part had to be the mouth, however, as it was pulled back into an eternal smile sealed by an obvious burn and Doflamingo now also noticed a stitched curvature over the bald head. The creature was creepy, if anything, yet Doflamingo could only laugh at the appearance. His head thrust back as loud chuckled burst from his throat. That hook-handed crocodilian must have been truly ignorant to let a specimen like this go or a genius to have it in the first place, especially since he kept quiet about it. Rarely did Doflamingo find information surprising. A Long-Arm Long-Leg cross without a gene connected to giants. A man such as this would be worth more than millions, if not billions, of beri. Adding the worth of the devil fruit the mole had made implications that the mouthless creature carried would instantly multiply the already-incredible price. It would be a miracle if such a creature had never been a slave at some point.
"He ain't one to talk but he's strong an' speedy an' listens good. Best agent Baroque Works had."
"It's name is Six?"
"Don't say 'it'. His name's Mr. 6 an' he's one of the top but that's since we couldn't afford putting him at the centre during the Utopia Operation. Quite like him actually an' he's more efficient than Mr. 4. Don't know his real name since his mouth's sealed shut tight. Nah, we didn't do it. Just how we got 'im."
"And his ability?" Doflamingo sat up a little straighter as his interest perked.
"He has a destructive ability with that Shibomu devil fruit of 'is; can destroy anything he touches if he wants to so long as it's in 'is strength n' all that but it's only more recently that he actually got control over it. Even an awakening even, bah!"
So that was why the surveillance transponder snails had withered in such a way... A very destructive ability indeed, especially if he had awakened it. Yet he knew exactly how difficult it was to awaken a devil fruit. It took an incredible will, strength and practice and even then, devil fruits were barely known to awaken at all. This man, or creature, whatever he was, Doflamingo couldn't feel that same level of willpower exerted. He could barely feel any presence at all.
"I was freaked out by 'im too at first. 'He can't speak, doesn't seem to feel a thing, doesn't show pain – nothing. What good is 'e?' Then I seen him in action. Trust me, you mighta been a warlord, but the rest of tha world's gotten stronger ya bird! This guy's tha same an' he's getting all us out! So bird! You come or you rot in here. Choice?"
Indeed, the creature in front of Doflamingo was fascinating and was sure to provide a higher level of entertainment than what he had been getting the past. He didn't need to glance around the infamous prison to see what he had already mapped out internally. If he left, he would be back to Kaido's underdog but without the influence that he had previously. Even worse, he would be even more trapped to the other's commands and would have to listen to the likes of Blackbeard or, worse, Blackbeard's own dogs. Doflamingo snarled at the thought. But at the same time, he could leave this retched and rotting prison with less consequences if he had tried to leave on his own and he wouldn't have to play so carefully. He had grown bored here and barely felt any emotion above empty neutrality. 568 days of minimal entertainment could do that to a person.
"Hurry it up, they're coming, bah! Oi, Six, get down!" Mr. 6 lowered himself to the dug up hole and slowly crept inwards. Miss Merry Christmas has said he was swift, no? Perhaps another thing to find interesting.
"I will come," he decided aloud and commanding, ignoring whatever opinion the mole woman had.
"Fine, but later." Running could be heard echoing down the prison's hallways. "They're coming! Oi, hurry it up Six!" As soon as her partner was through she jumped down, disappearing for a moment before resurfacing her head. "There'll be a signal," she added, lowering her usual booming voice to a whisper. "You'll know."
And like that the mole woman disappeared. Tch, despite the amount the woman talked she hadn't told him anything about what he had to do. Work under someone else? He better be in control. The thumping beats of booted feet against the solid metallic ground resonated louder than before as whoever was sent came closer. Doflamingo watched with a missing fascination as men with confused and angered faces spotted the missing surveillance transponder snails in ignorant expectation. For the first time in over a year, Doflamingo's heart beat to more than the dull wastes of the prison.
Doflamingo waited. And waited. Occasionally he found himself wishing the torturers back simply to have something to antagonise but those had been done away with when a certain irritated fleet admiral knew him and his sadistic antics a little all too well and had called it all off. Meals became limited due to the incident a few weeks ago regarding the surveillance transponder snails and it made measuring time a little harder, though not impossible. A total of thirty four days had passed since that woman had come in with her sidekick claiming a potential path to a slightly less restricted freedom. It was during those thirty four days however, that Doflamingo began to see the changes within the prison. More surveillance den den mushi were placed throughout the prison halls, chains were added, emergency signals and alarms were changed and added with precision and the cell bars were turned to walls laced with seastone. It was impossible to see past them and that was when Doflamingo understood that whatever plan Miss Merry Christmas, or Blackbeard, had, it would be soon.
It was another estimated week later that the Donquixote Pirate returned from a beating session with the Little Sadi. It had been painful yet somehow it managed to fill a little of the void in his apathetic heart that many would argue, including himself, was nonexistent. His blood ran down between his shoulder blades and waist, dripping and filling the otherwise silent metallic enclosure; a music of a sort. The seastone cuffs around his wrists and ankles were once again tethered to the walls and floor, stretching out his large body obscurely as the devil chief warden smiled at the sight. The time spent in the underwater prison had changed him. He was much thinner and his hair was thick and grown to his neck, reminding him a little of the man he once called Father. Doflamingo clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"You went lightly," Doflamingo glared through his half-shattered glasses.
"Mmmmmmm..." Sadi's hum was a mix of emotions. There was excitement, curiosity and a giddiness that must have come from the little torture session but the sounds didn't seem to meet Sadi's usual personality. The chief warden was known for ruthlessness and sadistic nature that may even compete with Doflamingo's own. She bent down, lowering herself over Doflamingo in the process yet her eyes remained hidden by her hair. It was obvious what she was doing, as she fixed her chest invasively close to Doflamingo's eyes, too close for him to simply be able to turn away from had he cared in the first place. One hand stretched out, making contact with his own bloodied and chained hand. As her large delicate hand began to stroke inwards, it caressed over every muscle between his fingers and shoulder, before being gently brought over his neck and and to his face. None of this meant anything more to the ex-warlord than another person that wanted to play with others as much as he did and Doflamingo didn't blame. It was amazing being in control of another person. Their tears, their hope and the shattering thereof. However, he refused to yield to these same attempts of manipulation from another.
"Peculiar," her mouth twitched into a dark smile. "You know..." she brought her mouth right next to his torn ear, painting a small spot of her wave of hair in crimson. "You're a very interesting man..."
A grin plastered across Doflamingo's face. They understood each other to a sadistic level. Doflamingo knew of the Little Sadi's love to inflict pain on a personal level.
"You know I go easy on you..." she smirked and brought her head back, standing up straight.
"Fuffuffuffuffu, you're one of the few filth I still find amusing," the chained man chuckled.
Sadi smiled with a savage warmth. It was like dry ice to skin; so cold and cruel it burnt with a ferocity equivalent to a passionate flame.
Sadi clicked her tongue. "No human gets out... mmmmmm... from the Great Prison. Each one will fall whether by my hand or not."
"Oh? I heard you enjoyed taking apart your toys yourself, fuffuffuffuffu."
Sadi's smile widened at the remark. "This isn't what it used to be. Not a human in the prison will get past me alive. I won't... mmmm... allow it." She bent down, leaning close to his ear, and whispered. "I'll enjoy my little show." She was gone.
Doflamingo grinned, once again finding that little diminishing spark and igniting it with the woman's words.
'Why thank you, Sadi-chan.'
After all, he had been given his way out, even if Blackbeard's little inside army had to fall instead.
The sign to leave came with screeching surveillance snails – which refused to turn silent – and a rumbling from underneath. Rather than the diggings from a certain mole-woman beneath the enclosure's floors, the sounds were similar to machines. What Doflamingo hadn't expected was for the light pattering of liquid small droplets of a certain transparent liquid to seep through the edge of his small space just above him. Opening his mouth to taste it, his nose wrinkled in distaste before his mouth stretched into a curious smirk as he wondered for what reason the ocean's water could have found its way within the carefully constricting walls. The water began to accumulate at the edges, sliding down purposefully and that was when Doflamingo realised something was wrong. The water didn't spill in places and the moment the liquid wall reached the floor it began to glide across the horizontal surface, spreading as veins and reaching the other walls within. The large caged man's mouth twisted to a displeased frown the moment the water began to do exactly what any liquid should not be capable of doing; it climbed. Tendrils of water seemed to stretch and bend as it climbed the metallic walls of the enclosure, seeping into the small cracks that lined the almost invisible door. Curiosity and eagerness swiftly shifted to a shallow panic as the water completely coated every wall of the sealed room in an impossible manner and began to slowly rise from an unknown source.
His striped prison suit that had deteriorated over the days, hanging loosely from a single shoulder, was now drenched as the water continued to rise. Doflamingo wasn't one to panic and the first few minutes were simply spent scowling at the rising liquid. But all Devil Fruit users know what it is to fear the sea as that sensation of utter helplessness clung to every fibre of the body. Even a lost monstrous creature such as himself was sane enough in his instincts that were inescapable.
Chains were heavy in the traitorous bath as the seastone fell with the fruit user's body. The water was long past reaching the ceiling of the seastone-riddled enclosure and the beast of a human wasn't even capable of lifting himself to the top where he had last seen a pocket of air. His long, greasy hair was the only part of his body to float naturally with the otherwise-restricting water. His lungs burned with ferocity and Doflamingo had to push against that primal instinct to breathe regardless of the terrible consequences. But he was to die here. And in that moment it was like he wasn't in the dreary wastes of his confines anymore. It was dark.
White light washed over him against the enveloping darkness and Doflamingo, for the first time in
so long, felt a carressive touch of free wind stroke across his previously burdened wrists. He couldn't feel the usual cracked shades resting on his ears that served to separate him from each piece of disgusting filth that his eyes set on. It was as though he were nowhere. His murky blond hair rested over his shoulders with the freedom of all the disgusting grease and blood that had accumulated over time and despite being able to see the a pure white version of the prison suit he had to wear constantly, as a reminder of just how low he was situated, he was somewhat naked and vulnerable. Now he knew why. Gentle tapping could be heard from the source of light, too bright to face, that grew louder as the sounds of steps came closer until eventually two figures stood before him. His father and brother – Donquixote Homing and Donquixote Rosinante.
The sight made him freeze. His heart beat rapidly and sweat built around his forehead and neck, spreading throughout the rest of his body in an uncomfortable raging heat despite his frozen state. His eyes widened as memories from so long ago pounded his mind over and over again. He killed them. He watched them both bleed out, dead to the world in lost animation. Both deaths had been merciless, brought by the divine righteous judgement of the eldest son. Nightmares continued to plague his nights of those days of endless injustice torture that had only occurred by this man. Both figures looked much healthier than the days he had left either for dead.
"I KILLED YOU!" he roared at the two figures.
The pathetic image of his father, perfect in every detail, must have flinched. Doflamingo could sense the anxiety, happiness, fear, concern and love all mixing and mashing from the single person and yet, there was little difference in the other.
He had killed them both. Shot. Dead. Can't change. And yet here his father stood before him with none other than his traitorous blood brother, not looking a day older or even perhaps more youthful. His father with his shining blond hair the younger sons had inherited as well as those eyes that shined with such perfect fatherly love that must have been a joke for getting them all tortured. And then there was Rosinante. Makeup and eyes that shone with a wholesome happiness Doflamingo wasn't sure when he last felt, if at all. Doflamingo had done everything to run from that past of his; those nightmares, the torture, the family that abandoned their rightful place at God's throne. He had gotten rid of it all with every man, woman and child he had slaughtered whether directly or indirectly. He had abandoned it, chosen to live rightfully above it, with his own hand by the trigger that held the lives of those he used to love, meanwhile claiming the forgiveness that he couldn't find.
"Doflamingo," Homing was firm in the way he addressed his son; forceful yet still held so much vain care in it and a chuckle bubbled its way from Doflamingo's throat.
"I KILLED YOU!" he roared louder, the words being filled with hysterical sadistic laughter betrayed by a foreign dampness at the corners of his usually masked eyes. "You traitors..." the two visibly flinched but went unnoticed by the other. "I held the gun in my hands, I ended the beating of your hearts, you. Can't. Be. Alive."
His shoulders shook with unbearable rage and as he felt a pressure against them he was quick to jump back and glare with every fibre of negative emotion that had existed since his childhood was ruined. "Don't you dare touch me you filth," he spat begrudgingly. "You, father, you tore me from the thrones of the Holy Land! It was you that took mother's life and had you not tempted my brother with those so-called 'learnings' it would have never been necessary to crumble in those decrepit lowly walls!"
He was a child again. Small, weak and helpless in everything but in the knowledge to hate with burning passion.
"Dolfamingo..." his father repeated, weary and drained with his eldest son's banter. The man lowered himself over the once proud son that was now so small and yet continued to stand firm. "I never stopped loving you." He placed a hand over his son's hair, stroking it as a loving father would do, and Doflamingo froze beneath the touch, questioning with a losing spite as to his much smaller size. His childlike fists clenched from the gesture that spoke mountains of the inexpressible. He soon found his waist being firmly held by two much smaller arms. Just glancing from the ground in worn aggression he could see his brother, de-aged and once again youthful, as Rosinante clung to him like he did in the days Doflamingo would call him his 'precious brother'. His knees felt weak and his arms instinctively wrapped around the other as he tried to stand firm and ignore the roaring onslaught of new emotions that sprang from depths he hadn't thought were possible to find again.
"I missed you..." the other's childlike voice resonated in the walls of Doflamingo's mind, resurfacing antique memories of days spent together, protecting one another from any darkness the world was bound to offer.
"I hate- you," Doflamingo barely choked out the words in his younger body that responded so pathetically to the emotions he experienced.
But the two around him only smiled kindly, just as they always did even in death, and continued their affectionate embrace. Eventually he fought his way out of it, physically protesting to the love he was drowning in.
"Get off," he raised his voice and the others obeyed, slowly removing their arms from around the other. Doflamingo's eyes remained stuck to the grassy surface pressed beneath his feet. Grass? Looking up, his eyes were no longer met with the darkness and the painful light. He hated seeing that world of black and white. Instantly, the sight in front of him filled him with something else. The three stood at the edge of a cliff and surrounded by an infinite number of trees and plant life. Looking out to the horizon from the cliff, the small ten-year-old body he was now left in was stuck to its place. His eyes, for the first time in his entire life of forty two years, sparkled as they reflected the sunrise before them, free from the wall that shadowed reality behind the tinted shades. And for the first time in just as many years, he began to feel small for a completely different reason that he didn't know.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" the voice of his father reached his ears as the man sat down by his side but Doflamingo couldn't tear his eyes away from the horizon. The presently taller man continued. "I saw something much similar to this when I learned to see the world for what it was."
A small body pressed against his side and Doflamingo watched his much younger looking brother cling to him in a way that had been entirely forgotten since maturing from the trivialities of childhood. Doflamingo sat still, not moving to disturb the distance between himself and his brother.
"Do you know what I saw in you, Doflamingo?" the man asked.
The older son met his father's eyes, for once empty of the years of accumulated spite. Homing never once turned away.
"As a Celestial Dragon, I could not see the further than a diamond fit on the frame of a photograph. I had everything any man could ever ask. Wealth, and the power to make anything happen the way I wanted to. If I were to ask for a drink, it would be by my design and that design alone. I bent reality to my will so long as I saw it fit. And yet, I had nothing."
Doflamingo stiffened, once again ready to scream at his father in anger. His family had everything! Wealth, power, and the freedom to do anything they would want. If they should wish, they should get. Yet his father through it all away without purpose! As though he, his brother and his mother, were nothing in his vision.
Sensing his rage, Homing sat himself further back in order to not disturb his son so that he would be adhered.
"When I returned from that trip I gained something more than any common Celestial Dragon could ever know. The sun, as it rises and as it sets, brings forth an interminable stream of colours; they are bright and boundless with more freedom than any man. The potential patterns of that which could exist are impossible to comprehend. You, my son, had – and continue to have – a continuum of paths set before you. To all creatures of this world, your potential is as boundless as the colours you see this moment," his father chuckled fondly. "The Celestial Dragons have their reward: their gold, diamonds, slaves. And I will have my family. I will see the sun as it rises and know just how blessed I am simply through appreciation alone... And I know where my sons' potentials lie."
Doflamingo, not knowing it was even possible in his many years of life, experienced an aching in his chest. He remembered the water that had destroyed his lungs yet that was a fraction of the pain from the guilt that now wracked his body.
If the colours of the sky was his potential, his heart was black, rotten and decayed from years of nurtured spite, rage, hate and pride. How dare his father make him feel so pathetic? A dry chuckle left his lips at the thought.
"You are mistaken. Potential? That has been truly obliterated. A certain Straw Hat took that away from me."
Rosinante looked up into his brother's darkened eyes and was the one to speak up.
"He didn't," he said, nuzzling into the other's chest.
"That brat took everything away from me... that kingdom and the damn chance to find my place at the top!"
"Or..." Rosinante added, clinging to the one that had murdered him. "He gave you another path."
Doflamingo's racing angered thoughts were interrupted. "What?"
Another set of footsteps approached from behind, padding against grass and cracking fallen leaves.
"Rosi's correct," a familiar woman's honey voice was sweet to Doflamingo's ears, further melting away the defensive raging walls he had carefully constructed over decades unknowingly.
Doflamingo's childlike head snapped in the direction of his mother's voice. The one he had never wronged and the one he had never in his whole life felt betrayed by.
"M-Mother..." his voice trembled and his cheeks felt a warm stream of unfamiliar liquid run down them.
Many old things crept up on Doflamingo in this unfamiliar place: he saw a family he once loved, experienced a warmth that melted the caging walls over a heart he wasn't aware still existed, and felt the love of parents that had never stopped. And yet, this was all through new eyes. But his love for his mother was constant. And just as the old crept to the present, flowing tears previously destroyed by the ice of his centre were released. Sobs wracked his small body and he was a child in more ways than one as he outstretched his arms to be once again held by one so dear. The family continued to sit like that, cradling their wayward son and brother as he mourned the precious things he had never before done.
His mother stroked his short cropped hair delicately, whispering comforting words from nights he would wake from a nightmare.
"You have so much potential, Doflamingo," she whispered lovingly, kissing his forehead as she did so.
Rosinante clung to his brother's side, tugging on the shirt the way he used to years ago and effectively drawing the other's attention.
"You have to go back."
Doflamingo sat up from his place in his mother's arms, for once having so much to say and not knowing what to do with everything. In the end he could only ask "why".
"Because," his father spoke up, "your heart needs healing."
And for once, he didn't fully understand. His mind was exhausted, worn from tears and emotion that had been abandoned for the majority of his existence.
His father placed a finger to his chest and Doflamingo felt a guilt-induced pain ache where his heart should be. Phantom images of people began to fade into sight, walking throughout the horizon and around the cliff side. They didn't do anything other than walk. There had to be thousands, or tens of thousands, of them, all meandering across the plain. Some, he recognised clearly as someone he had once known while others were complete strangers.
"Who the hell are-" he was about to shout when his eyes were pierced with the unseeing gaze of someone he recognised very well. Trafalgar Law. He watched silently as the younger man stepped over the cliff, continuing to tread onward into the horizon filled with others, paying no mind as their ghostly echos phased through each other when moving.
His father's eyes saddened immensely.
"These are people you have damaged in the past," he spoke grimly.
"Tche, I don't even know all of these," he spoke aloud, watching each and every person as they moved.
"You wouldn't. Not even I could express the extent of hurt you have caused."
His father's words were blunt but nonetheless effective. All of these people? There were so many. People were barely visible due to the way their bodies shifted in their walking, only appearing as a massive lumpy wave rather than a distinguishable mass of figures. A wondering figure passed through his own and his eyes met the back of another he recognised well.
"Viola," he muttered in a shallow whisper, barely audible.
The phantom image of the tall, slim figure in a frilled dress continued to walk, ignorant to the smaller man's whisper.
"You need to return," his father reinstated.
"Why?"
"While you cannot change the things of the past... the future has as many colours as you paint for it."
Doflamingo had little care for those of the past but after this short moment with his family he began to wonder. If he cared enough, if he tried enough, just how much could he change? If he could fix one thing of the past then perhaps the coal-like heart of his would heal.
"How?" he turned to his whole family, still not fully desiring.
"It is simple, fortunately," his father answered, moving towards his son and Doflamingo sensed that whatever the other would do, he would not be able to see them again for a long time.
"Wait," he ordered.
His family was silent. Rosinante clung to both parents' sides as his father had begun to move forward.
He had to say it. He had to. It was a first step. He didn't know when he would see them again.
Those two words destroyed pride and brought humiliation and Doflamingo swore to never bow even by words.
'And yet- I'm still-'
"Sorry."
His eyes were bowed with shame and never had he felt so vulnerable. His eyes watered at each memory that triggered his apology.
*His mother coughed for the final time and her eyes glazed over, unseeing of the two terrified boys before her. Doflamingo swore this was his father's fault. If he had never abandoned them and their place, she would have never died! Doflamingo promised on his rotting heart he would never forgive that man.
Doflamingo stood behind his father's back as he swore vengeance. This wasn't a man before him. This wasn't his family. He could never be related to such shallow trash that abandoned those of real worth. The gun was heavy in his hand yet, despite its large size and awkward shape, it fit perfectly. Aiming it at his proclaimed father's head, he felt a superiority he hadn't yet known. He was above his father and swore to protect the rest of his deserving family. With the final BANG, Doflamingo's smile widened at the sure thought of returning to a simple life that he could own himself. Blood flowed down his father's body, pooling around the head and he heard his little brother's cries.
'Do not worry, Rosinante. Come home with me to the Holy Land. Let us fill our thrones. You will never bow to another mere mortal. Live above them, with me. We will be free again, and mother's name will be polished clean. We will eat real food! And nobody will hurt us. I swear, Rosinante, I swear I will protect you!'
The gun was nowhere near as heavy as it had been that day with his father. The shape was perfect for his hand and his finger sat at the trigger comfortably; the feeling was natural. Feelings had detached themselves after so many years and he had somehow come to love his family – the Donquixote Pirates – and never know it. The man before him had betrayed him. Doflamingo had been planning on sacrificing his brother for the sake of immortality and now, Corazon was to die in such a loathsome way. All to protect another traitorous child. The gun had felt perfect. Enough so that he continued to fire repeatedly. Bangs carried like mournful screams until he knew for certain the other was dead. Justice filled his core as his heart was finally dyed completely in black.*
"Each one of us has ended exactly as we accepted."
Doflamingo raised his head in confusion. Tears continued to pour down the sides of his face and his chest heaved with anguish of the past he had brought on himself and others. If he had to be truly honest, Doflamingo didn't believe he could change. He was rotten and developed an immovable belief that he was naturally superior to the rest of loathsome humanity. He alone had betrayed his family with each act and word against it. Years upon years of developing these traits, this habitual thinking, would be impossible to do alone.
"Each of us is satisfied with out lives," his father continued. "I died trying to protecting what I could of my family. I died outside the cages of the title 'Celestial Dragon'. Your mother loved you both very much and I was fortunate to have such a wondrous wife!" he chuckled. "And Rosinante died protecting another who has, I am sure by now, changed many for the better."
Doflamingo's heart clenched at the prospect. Another he had tried to kill that had in actuality, been more than himself.
"So return. Just go back."
"I see..." words caught once again in his throat, not being able to express the things he wanted just before a large hand pushed his head backwards causing him to fall from the incredible height of the cliff. There was little time to wonder, to fear and question his fall before darkness and the cold enveloped him. He thought for a moment he had heard his mother and brother shout a few last words as his mind submitted to the void.
He was surrounded by water but he could barely see it, only knowing of its existence by touch alone. Seastone chains continued to dig into his wrists and ankles. Had he been in here all this time? He was just going to die, wasn't he? Perhaps he would see his family sooner than he had first intended. A disappointment to the end. Disgraceful. However, as his eyes once again shut and his lungs continued to burn, a loud band was muffled through the water-filled enclosure. Pressure came from all sides however, it wasn't directed towards Doflamingo, but away.
The water expanded, placing incredible pressure on the walls as it did so until a small muffled tearing could be heard. Oxygen returned to Doflamingo's lungs as the enclosure snapped in pieces. He gasped desperately for air, barely hearing the clanks of the seastone cuffs falling from his damaged appendages. He was alive. However, sitting from his place as he finished hacking up the remains of swallowed water, he noticed a small group of people in his peripheral vision.
Scrapes of metal against metal echoed down the empty prison halls and light finally reached his eyes. Someone was kicking away the chains that had bound his limbs and only now did he notice his freedom of movement.
"Che, I knew tha bird'd take a while but did ya really have ta take so long? We're on a tight schedule ya know an' I ain't here to flatter your ability none. Oi!" that mole-woman's voice was turned to another. "Just bring 'im, 'kay? We don't got long, bah!" she screeched annoyingly.
More words were shared but Doflamingo's head was dizzy with the earlier lack of oxygen and overall near death experience and that was while neglecting the words shared between the family he had abandoned. Faintly, he could hear more shouting.
"You wanted HIM?! Do you have ANY idea what he-"
Words faded in and out, barely catching glimpses of the conversation. The last things his eyes witnessed before blacking out completely was an rightly outraged Viola and the back of a high-heeled shoe.
A/N: What'd You guys think? I'm planning on making this a few really long chapters though much more succinct than my other stories hopefully. Apologies to readers waiting for stuff on other works and thank You for at least giving this first chapter a shot!