Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece

Rating: T

Summary: Some days his Nakama were so real he could almost touch them. Others he could hardly remember his name. The only thing Usopp was completely and utterly certain of is that he is one-hundred percent insane.

Warnings: Dark themes, language, psychotic insanity and spoilers up until Enies Lobby

Oh my god, this fanfic is insane. No, really.


Why didn't you just say you were sorry?

Brown eyes watched the fly on the wall with unwavering intensity. It had paused, wings at rest.

Two little words – that's all you needed to say. And then they would have taken you back.

It was rubbing its legs together in a maniacal way, like it was preparing a grand scheme of world domination.

You had days; you prepared a hundred ways but in the end you knew it all came down to those two little words if you just swallowed your pride.

If he listened carefully, he even could hear a maniac laughing; a great big 'Brew-hahaha' that spoke words of his ultimate power.

They're your family; the only family you've had in a long, long time. Irreplaceable nakama.

He wondered what it would do first.

They treated you when you were hurt.

Would it try to conquer a city with its awesome power?

Protected you when you were in trouble.

Would it devise a plan to uncover some great weapon of mass destruction?

Loved you without question.

Would it…

But now they don't even know you need them. They don't even know you're sorry.

W-Would it…

He thinks you've decided.

Would…

Any other day, He would have faced a hundred Lucci's – a thousand – if that was what it took to save you.

W-Wou…

But now He'd never even stand in front of a bullet for you. Never stretch out His hand to pull you from a sinking ship. He'd never even see you as a nakama now. Never, never, never – because you never said two, stupid, easy, fucking little words!

"SHUT UUUUUUUUUUUUP!" Usopp shrieked. "YOU WANT AN APOLOGY BASTARD? YOU WANT THAT, SOGEKING?! I'M SORRY! I'M SO SORRY DAMN IT. I WAS AN IDIOT!"

What good does it do you now, when He can't hear you anymore?

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH !" Screams filled the air, echoed, reverberated, filled his ears until he was sure he'd never hear anything else but anguish. "I'M SORRY. I'M SORRY. LUFFY. NAMI. ROBIN. CHOPPER. ZORO. SANJI. CAN YOU HEAR ME? I'M SORRRRRRRRRRRRY!" He yelled it again and again, yelled until his face went red; yelled until his lungs started to hurt; yelled until his voice went hoarse. And when he had nothing left of it but whispers, still he was croaking it in a broken voice. "Sorry… hear me… sorry…"

Subject: 3657

Drug administered: Proflaxin 3B+

Response: A half hour after the drug was administered Subject 3657 appeared to show schizophrenic tendencies. Subject's auditory and somatic responses were non-existent, no longer responding to surrounding commotion or any type of physical stimuli. Subject's visual response was unpredictable and seemed to follow something unknown and unseen in the air for several minutes before concentrating on one spot. He then became delirious, muttering about a 'Fly' and how it was going to 'conquer the world'. An hour after drug was administered, Subject then violently cried out to an unknown entity in the room until he lost his voice. Three hours after drug was administered, Subject lost consciousness.

Vitals post administration: Heart rate steadily climbed from 5% to 23% increase. Respiratory reached semi-critical rate. Brain patterns decreased by 35%.

Recovery: Subject began showing a return to normal body patterns within six hours after initial dose. Consciousness returned after twelve hours and full awareness was regained precisely twenty-three minutes afterwards. No memories of the time under remain.

Additional notes: Persona 'Sogeking' was again mentioned. Unknown if subject was speaking to itself or talking to a perceived imaginary double.


Tiredly, he watched the puttering about of the faces he'd seen for some time now, the clattering of test tubes and the sizzling of the burner a familiar sound. A Scorcher today. Somewhere inside of him, the part of him that hadn't quite lost care of all things in the world, still hated these the most.

They weren't like the Downers; those came in a needle and left him feeling a variety of negative emotions – more so than anything he'd felt before. They had told him these were meant to be used for assassination and how smart it was; no one would question a man who took his own life of actually being a homicidal case. They worked too. The last dose he hazily remembered being given had left him stabbing a pencil into his wrist multiple times, utterly consumed beyond reason with a desire to just do the one thing he used to fear most: die. As a sniper, he had to admit after the drug wore off he felt sick when he learned his irrational actions cost him 13% of usage in his right hand. Even after the drug was well out of his system, the low feeling inside of him had fallen far beyond his positives' feelings reaches. It was a turning point, they said to him, and the scientific mumbo-jumbo they spouted off went right over his head – all he really understood was that his usefulness was reaching its end. He hadn't had another Downer since – and he'd guesstimate that was at least a few weeks – days at least. Maybe months?

Clang!

Usopp gasped softly at the noise, hearing a hissing curse. He watched a small bit of commotion as the little crowd of Coats rapidly reached for a falling beaker, grabbing it just a few inches shy of it shattering on the floor before they continued their preparations. He turned his head away, looking towards his right hand, curling the fingers and watching unsurprised as his middle and ring fingers still refused to meet the palm, no matter how he willed it.

He could hear the Scorcher hissing as it brewed.

They weren't like Gasers either, like the one he'd had yesterday; it filled the room with mist and made him see and respond to things that weren't really there. War bombs, they had claimed, meant to be gunned onto ships to confuse large scours of people – pirates – with one attack. Then it was all too simple to just board and slaughter an unseeing, unhearing crew. Despite the terrible forthcoming genocides, Gasers weren't meant to be a violent drug – they were meant to calm a crew into seeing good visions before death so that there was little to no chaos onboard. A merciful thing it was. But not all of them worked that way. He'd experienced them all; the Gasers he forgot and the ones he remembered like nightmares that – in one case – left him so stricken with terror he "had a bowel movement" they factually reported. Despite this, Gasers were his favorite and for one reason only. When this was all over, he was waiting for it – waiting for the dose of Vivrecine 4A that would lead him to heaven. That was to be his reward for cooperating so nicely. Only a few more tests they said. Only a few more…

An echoing whistle made him jerk again, returning to his place in the lab, strapped to the table, sanitation a strong smell all around him and the words Vegapunk jumping out on the backs of the lab coats the Coats wore. Sometimes, when he saw the words, it brought back a memory of a conversation he overheard one of the Coats having on a Den Den Mushi.

"Mr. Vegapunk, we have a small hitch. They managed to bring one in to your exact specifications." The Coat lifted up a chart, as if he could not take the time to turn around and look at the struggling boy strapped to the table just behind him. "Male, dark-skinned, late-teens, healthy body. It all fits but… well, it turns out we don't have just any commoner on the street. We matched this one's appearance to Sogeking, one of the Mugiwara pirates who recently gained a bounty after the tragic events at Enies Lobby."

"And?" The voice on the other end was stiff and somewhat nasal.

"Well, should we not turn him in sir? He is a wanted man and one Sengoku-san would be all too happy to make an example of."

"Genzoru," The man on the other said condescendingly, "You have lived too few years yet. Bountied men disappear all the time and not a word of any of them is mentioned. One more will not tip the Marines equilibrium of 'justice'. Besides, have you forgotten to recall that those posters claim dead or alive? If there is anything left of him by the end, he'll turn up."

"But what it we are discovered prematurely?"

"I work for the Marines, do I not? If it by chance transpires, I must merely get them to understand everything this 'Sogeking' will endure is only for their benefit and then they will turn the other way. Now begin the experiments. We need that data."

Usopp watched dully as the mixture was lifted and brought over to him, able to see the shimmering of the red liquid and the steam that filled the air like Nami's Clima Tact preparing for Fog Tempo. Even with all the fight drained from him, fear of what was to come made him hesitate those few bare seconds and it took a mental chanting of Vivrecine, Vivrecine, Vivrecine before he could finally force his rebelling lips open. The minute the hot mixture hit his mouth, his eyes squeezed shut, the act of swallowing the blazing liquid taking every last bit of concentration.

Scorchers were the worst. Liquefied medicine heated to almost boiling, they left the corners of his mouth blistering and everything from his tongue to his stomach so hot it was painful. They were interrogation drugs; some worked fast and some worked slowly but the end result was always the same.

He coughed as the glass was pulled away, his throat raw and the taste buds on his tongue near nonexistent. He breathed unevenly for some time yet, slowly adapting to the familiar stinging pain in his gut from the too-hot concoction. It never faded fully, or sometimes at all, before it hit.

Usopp sucked in a deep breath when the tingling began; as if hundreds, thousands, millions of teeny ants suddenly burst from his belly and started to wander down his legs, up his torso, around his sides, his back, arms, hands, feet, face, organs, mind. And those hundreds, thousands, and millions of ants suddenly all started to bite.

"G-AAAAH!" Usopp felt his head smack into the back of the table, his whole body arching against the binds holding him down as the pain finally came, setting every nerve in his body alight with it. He probably begged and pleaded for it to stop as he always did; he often forgot what he did in the contours of this drug but he never forgot the agony.

Subject: 3657

Drug Administered: Ceirasine 7H-

Response: Subject began to respond to effects of Ceirasine 7H- after approximately five minutes and thirty-six seconds. Subject attempted to fight his bonds and request for a ceasing of the pain. After ten minutes from initial pain reaction, subject began to hyperventilate and have a small seizure. Subject then vomited and started to choke until consciousness was lost. Experiment was terminated and subject was resuscitated.

Vitals post-administration: Heart rate climbed to 104 beats per minutes before starting to fail. Muscles showed signs of involuntary spasms and air-intake decreased by 40%. Brain patterns were unable to be accurately calculated.

Recovery: Emergency antidote was administered. Three minutes and forty-two seconds later, heart rate and breathing patterns returned to normal baseline. Consciousness was obtained seven hours later and subject was able to regain normal muscle movement after two days. Any memory of time spent under the drug is absent.

Additional Notes: Subjects hesitation to swallow pain-stimulatory drugs has decreased by another two seconds.


He knew he had probably been broken a long time ago.

He thought about it sometimes, on days like today where no drugs were given and he was just in his cell to rest. He thought about it with an almost morbid curiosity even; as if his own shattered mind was something horribly fascinating.

On his worst days, he sometimes sat around and wondered if he had actually grown up here, in this cell, and everything else about his life was just some imagined tale he had made up. He didn't really come from a village called Syrup, he just made it up. He didn't really go to some island in the sky (because really when he thought of it, it really was impossible), it was nothing but his imagination. And he certainly didn't have a best friend made of rubber named Luffy, he just needed a companion. Hell, his name probably really was 3657. Who would ever really name their kid Usopp? Yeah, liar… that's all his entire life was. A lie…

But of course, those were his worst days.

On his better days, days where he was more self-aware, he instead found himself sitting around, telling himself tales or, when he had the energy for it, even acting it out as he told it. And they weren't like the tall tales he used to sprout out at will to his crewmates on a daily basis. These were stories were all truth. He'd start reciting one of their past adventures and then suddenly he'd be on his feet, pretending to be everyone at once. Suddenly he was Zoro, slicing effortlessly through Hachi of the Fishman pirates. Or maybe he'd be Mr. 3, whipping up a candle tower to turn the Strawhats into wax statues. He'd be Vivi, bravely waiting for a miracle as her world erupted into war and then he'd double cross her and be Crocodile, striking Alabasta down with everything he had.

And those were his better days, which were still a little crazy.

His best days were the ones where he knew his name was Usopp and remembered the abduction right out of Water 7's downtown district sidewalks to only be transported to this human research laboratory where he would, eventually, have every bit of will stripped from him and succumb to constant experiments. Sometimes he would stare at the ceiling and wonder how he had fallen so far; from brave warrior of the sea to cowardly lab rat. Sometimes he would wish for that pencil again so he could just finish the job, knowing that unlike what he preached to Robin, he could not have faith in Luffy to save him – he was no longer Mugiwara and therefore no longer a nakama worth saving. Sometimes he wondered about more incredible things even, would wonder if this was how his life was actually meant to go. A pathetic, slingshot-flinging, lying troublemaker from some washed out town in East Blue actually thought he was going to be some great warrior some day? Ha, that was a riot. No, that little boy, who created nothing but deceit at every turn of his life and lost all devotion in his own nakama deserved nothing more than this punishment. He didn't even deserve the pencil to end it sooner; he was meant to live out every second of this torture to the very end.

When he had his best days and thoughts like those swimming around in his head, he would wish it was just a better day and he was in his fantasy land because being a little crazy was better than being completely sane anymore.


It was another Scorcher today. He watched it being brewed, as he always did. There was also one person watching him when this happened – he called him or her or if he couldn't tell, which some days he was so out of it he couldn't, it, the Spy Coat. They were always in the corner of the room, taking notes. He sort of understood it – if this was an interrogation method, then they were probably looking for signs of irritation, anxiousness, fear…

He liked to think over the past however long it's been that he'd become nearly desensitized to any of those feelings (he probably still showed some unconscious reflexes though – a twitch here or there), though he still remembered his beginnings. The screaming, the pleading, the tears – he, or the Usopp he had been, never had liked pain much. He had endured it a lot as a pirate but he never really liked it; the only thing that ever made it even a little easier those days was he knew each broken bone, each new cut, burn, shot, or shock, was just one more painful step towards his dream of being a brave warrior of the sea.

Now that pain meant nothing but one step closer to his end.

His eyes opened when he heard footsteps, not even realizing he had shut them, and his eyes rolled to watch another Coat approach with the sizzling mixture, the smell almost sulfuric. He let out a breath, started his mantra that was taking less and less time to get through before he finally opened his mouth and-

And then there was a sudden loud thump! and before he knew it he could see the metal door flying across the room. He, and everyone else in the room flinched, but his eyes never left the sight of the Scorcher or how it slipped from the Coat's grasp. Oh that was going to bur-

HOLY SHIT!

It was suddenly caught… by a hand protruding from his forehead!

No… no way… It… It couldn't be…

Something crossed over his new appendage, a limb that zoomed by with fingers bunched into a fist, and his breathing grew ragged when he heard "GOMU GOMU NO PISTOL!" The Coat who was going to Scorch him suddenly found himself making an indent in the plaster of the far wall.

He saw a blur of black, "Concassé!" being yelled as another Coat was kicked to the floor. And swords glinting under the florescent, blood soon on the desks. His name – oh god his name – being said by a voice that wasn't his!

He wanted to look everywhere; he was too afraid to look everywhere. He stared at the ceiling, seeing things at the edges of his vision, until it was suddenly full of a furry, human-like face with a little blue nose. "Usopp? Usopp can you hear me?!" A large hand reached up and he couldn't help the slight tensing of his muscles when a large hand was reaching over him and plucking the Scorcher right out of his forehead-hand's delicate fingers. Then it disappeared in a flurry of petals and he stared, right at the bluish-orange liquid until it was pulled out of his sight and he could relax again.

And then another shade of orange was in his vision, angry wine-brown eyes staring down at him, and this time he was being yelled at, "Idiot what are you doing just lying there?! You're not even tied down."

"I know." He whispered, and for the first time really realized how raspy his voice sounded – and why were they looking at him like that? His fingers twitched on the table, but he barely got them three inches from the surface before he aborted the gesture of trying to touch either one of them. He didn't really feel anything exactly except total shock; everything else, if there was anything else left inside of him, was just not there.

And then Chopper was grabbing him and wailing so loud he thought the ceiling might come down.

And… well… that…

"Cho…Chop…?" He couldn't even get the name out.

"Usopp! We've been looking for months! When Zambai told us he saw you get plucked out of-"

Chopper just continued to chatter away, even long after the rest of the noise all around died away to nothing; even after he could feel more than see everyone surrounding him, though he could pick out black, red, green, purple, orange, brown and blue shades encircling him. The doctor only stopped the minute he sighed, leaning his face into his friend's furry chest.

"Usopp?"

He could…hear his heartbeat.

"Oi, Usopp?"

"Warm… you're warm…" He mumbled.

You're real.

He was never sure if he said that last thought aloud.


The next time he opened his eyes, he saw wood above him. He sat up abruptly and the next thing he was aware of was a little tug. It made him look down, seeing a tube coming from his arm. It wasn't anything all that unusual, so he only gave it a cursory glance before studying the room. Everything was unfamiliar, from the books – medical texts no doubt – lining a small shelf next to a bunch of medical equipment to the smell that was a mixture of salty and sterilization. Nothing held any significance to him…

Except one thing. A little pink-hatted Tanuki-like creature.

"C…" He swallowed. His throat hurt so it was a chore to speak, "Chopper?"

A pestle went flying through the air as the reindeer jumped in place, before spinning around in the swivel chair he was sitting in at his desk. He looked cute because he was wearing this little lab coat that clashed with his pink hat. They stared at each other for a few moments and then the smaller was leaping out of his chair and into his arms all in one fluid motion, crying loudly. "USOPP YOU'RE AWAKE! Stupid! Do you know how worried I've been?! You've been asleep for nearly a week you know!" His friend continued to chatter, saying some things about malnutrition and… other big, long medical terms that Usopp was pretty proud to admit he usually understood but today, now, like this…

He couldn't even get over the fact he felt the warm body against his own. Warm, breathing, alive; really, really there. He could feel every single fiber of Chopper's fur on his skin, could pick out any one strand the sensory overload was so precise. Just that… Just that was enough to drown out everything else. But it was more than that; it was the rumbling he felt in the reindeer's chest as he spoke, the little tufts of air on his clammy skin, the slight moisture of tears that didn't mat into fur soaking into his clothes.

Trembling, he lifted his arms from the bed, hearing it squeak under him (he was on a real bed?) and slowly, painfully, fearfully – feeling true fear for the first time in he didn't know how long – he wrapped his arms around the other.

And Chopper stayed right there. He didn't suddenly evaporate into thin air or burst like a balloon or turn into goo. He stayed Right. There. He even smiled more, didn't even miss a beat in whatever he was saying that Usopp wasn't listening to one word of because oh god, Chopper was here and he was warm and he was real.

And then, for one terrifying moment, the reality that he wasn't quite sure really was, almost shattered. "Usopp? Usopp. I need to check you over. You need to let me go. Usopp?"

Let… him go?

He felt his lungs freeze up, his vision seeming to darken a bit at the edges and he rapidly shook his head.

"Usopp, it's alright I just-"

No. He shook his head harder, burying his eyes in the other's hat as he drew up his knees as close to his chest as he could, caging Chopper to him. Nonononono! No, he was not letting go!

"Us-ow! Okay, ah, you don't have to let go. But," His friend's voice sounded a little strangled and he was squirming and Usopp didn't like that because he could not try to get away! Not now damn it! "But can you loosen your arms a bit? I can't breathe."

No matter how much he didn't want to subconsciously, he must have listened, because there was a sudden sigh of relief.

Some time passed, he wasn't sure how long, and then Chopper said, "Usopp… can I yell for the others?" He must have agreed because suddenly he felt the violent quivering of Chopper's voice yelling, "EVERYONE. USOPP'S AWAKE." But even that was pleasant, because it sent his ear buds ringing and his soul soaring.

The door opened with a loud bang, a hyper voice happily calling his name because predictably He was first. Then another voice, feminine and soft and mentioning his long nose. A suave one next, followed by loud one that sort of had a hollow metallic ring to it, another feminine chirping voice, and finally a gruff one that sort of sounded like it just woke up.

Everyone… Everyoneeveryoneveryonewashe re.

Everything was just a blur of pink, his eyes open but pressed against Chopper's hat, but he knew they were there. Luffy, Robin, Sanji, Franky, Nami, and Zoro. He didn't even question why Franky was there; didn't care didn't care - hewasNakamaright? – Just…

So many voices, so many people, so much, almost too much. And then the noise died down, one by one every voice fading, and he almost panicked – were they gone? He couldn't look. But Chopper was still here. Still here, still warm.

"He won't let me go and I really need to look him over."

Who was he talking to? No one was there anymore.

And then, abruptly, the bed slanted down as a new weight bounced onto the bed, causing Usopp to lean into something.

Someone. It was warm, alive, breathing too. He felt so cold in relation to all this warmth, so he started to shiver and couldn't stop.

"Usopp, Chopper's the doctor. You gotta let him be the doctor and make sure you're okay."

No. He didn't say it, but he must have transmitted it psychically or something because it seemed to reach the ears of his Captain anyways.

"Chopper, can you doctor if he holds someone else?"

"I… I think so."

"Okay." And then something was grabbing his wrist. A hand. The skin was sort of elastically but it still felt warm. "Usopp, you can hold onto me now."

He shifted his head a little bit then, not enough to really see more than a black button floating in a sea of red. Still he didn't let go because it was too much of a risk. He knew Chopper was here but what would happen if he did let go? Would what he thought was Luffy fade away the moment he tried to touch Him? Would it be too late to reclaim Chopper then? Would he wake up on that table again, to find out this was just yet another Gasser induced hallucination?

But it's never been this real before.

"Usopp, it's okay." That voice soothed his mind. "I'm not going to disappear. I promise." His fingers twitched in Chopper's fur and then slowly relaxed. "That's it… there we go." The rubbery hand held his wrist a little stronger now, pulling his arm away, and everything from his wrist to his upper arm suddenly felt like ice. It was torturous, those few seconds, until he felt that warmth again as his limb was forcibly wrapped around a neck and his body followed, until it was up against His.

And then His hand was placed over his own, pressing it right against His heart.

Beat. Beat. Beat.

His other arm dropped suddenly and Chopper hopped out of his lap. Just in time too because Usopp actually found himself leaping at Luffy with enough force to send them spiraling onto the bed, arms trapped under His body as he held Him. "Luffy… Luuuffffy…" Usopp buried his face – nose and all – into the other's chest, feeling it rise and fall with every reassuring breath. He smelt like the sea and meat and about a dozen other things he didn't even think he'd ever smell again and it was Just. Too. Much.

"L-Luu… Luuuf… L-L-L-" Any voice he managed to gain was lost again. Great, big tears were rolling down his cheeks before he could control it. His whole body quaking so hard he wasn't completely sure it wouldn't just fall to pieces on him.

A hand pat him on the head, Luffy mumbling, "It's okay Usopp. I'm here; we're all here and we're not going to go anywhere." The hand moved to the middle of his shoulder blades, gripping onto the fabric of his shirt until it bunched between His fingers. "And I'll stay by your side for as long as it takes until you believe it too."

And He did.


Luffy never seemed to leave his side. Well, of course He did eventually – to go to the bathroom and probably to eat. Usopp didn't really remember doing anything similar but his mind was so caught up with just being back that he didn't have much time to pay attention to the little details.

But in those few times he was away from the rubber man, he found someone else there instead. Chopper in his lap, Nami holding onto his arm with her head on his shoulder, Sanji patiently smoking and letting him cling to his waist, Robin cocooning him in her infinite amount of arms, and even gruff Zoro was there to throw a comforting arm around him. The only one he hadn't like touching at first was Franky and it wasn't because of their history which, to him now, was all just sketchy details anyways.

"Y…You're cold…" Usopp mumbled, slinking back against Luffy.

"Haaah?" The metal man scratched his head, giving a petulant frown before he nodded and turned around on the bed, pointing his thumb at his back. "Wait, I got a super idea longnose-bro! Try this!"

And Usopp did, reaching out to touch him then and found it not cold as steel but warm and real; good enough for him to snuggle into for a short time.

And that's how it went for he didn't know how long.

And then one day he woke up from his daze.

He wasn't sure why or how. Just one morning, he literally woke up, and everything was alright. Maybe his brain had just finally coped with the fact that everything around really was real or maybe just being around the people who loved him had brought the pieces of his shattered psyche back together. It felt like he was taking a breath of air for the first time in a long time as he sat up, rubbing the heels of his hands against his eyes against the bright sun sneaking in from the port window.

His movements awoke the straw hatted boy. "Usopp?" The springs underneath them squeaked as the other shifted and sat up, eyeing him critically, "You okay?"

"I…" He lowered his hands, looking down at them, watching his fingers curl, some never quite meeting his palms. He swallowed at that, finding it a little painful to do and vaguely recalling Chopper mumbling about a ripped vocal cord at one point but then looked up at his captain who was just sitting there patiently, and asked softly, "I'm really here aren't I?"

"Of course you are. You've been here for weeks."

Weeks?

"A-And… I'm… never going back?"

This time Luffy's eyes narrowed, his (not His anymore, because he didn't need that) pupils dilating with fury, "I'll kick anyone's ass who even dares try take you to that bad place again."

As scary as the look was probably meant to be, all Usopp could feel was relief sweep through him. Because this was his Luffy; he'd seen about a hundred Luffys lately, some of them more Luffy-like then others, but something about them all just seemed lacking, no matter how convincing the copycat. But this one, without a doubt, was the real one.

His eyes welled up all over again as he sniffed and rubbed the corner of his nose, "Luffy?"

"Mm?"

"Thank you."

And Luffy just smiled and laughed.


Yet, even being free from his mind didn't mean things were perfect.

"I thought I was better." Usopp mumbled randomly one day as he sat on the grass of the lawn deck, staring out at the calm sea and cloudless blue sky. He had been talking to himself, so he started some in surprise when he received an answer.

"It's alright Nagahana-kun. Try not to push it."

He tilted his head around, seeing Robin sitting around the tree on the deck, her legs carefully tucked underneath her, hands folded in her lap. She had a couple books piled up beside her but he had to wonder if she had touched any of them at all.

"Franky's told me the name of this ship about a hundred times, and I still can't remember it. And made me tour it too and yet I still can't find the boy's cabin without help." Usopp said glumly. Hell, the only reason he knew anything at all about the ship was because before, when it was being built, he remembered watching the Galley-La workers constructing it. That is, when he wasn't spying in on his crew stationed safely away at headquarters that is. "You guys have told me how you rescued me just about as many times – and yet I can't remember any of it."

"Your mind has been dealt a grave injury. It will take time for you to heal." Robin noted, smiling to him comfortingly. "You have been through a lot and none of us are asking for anything more. If you can't remember today, then maybe tomorrow."

"And what if I never do?" He asked, his voice lowering with his fear and worry. "What if I am stuck like this forever?"

"You won't be. Once you've accepted what has happened, then everything will be alright."

Usopp sighed and looked away, placing his chin on his knees. "You really think so?"

"You'll see for yourself soon enough."


Time was still something lost to him. At one moment it was Monday, at the next it was two weeks later and Friday. So, he didn't know when it happened, but just one day, at dinner that always seemed to be his favorite dish these days but he was just poking at, listening to the chatter of his crewmates, it happened. He didn't give any real audible indication of it happening except for the soft plink as his fork was set down.

And then he snapped.

"Why the hell did you come save me?!"

Silence. It settled thickly and uncomfortably – he couldn't even hear waves outside, as if he managed to quiet even the very ocean.

He rose his eyes, meeting Luffy's surprised gaze, and demanded it. "Well?"

"Because… we're Nakama Usopp." Luffy said, scratching his head in confusion as if he didn't understand.

But Usopp was all keyed up now. "How can you even say that?! No, we're not!" The words hurt to say, but it was the truth.

"Oi, you're seriously not going to start up this shit again…" Sanji sounded gruff, probably expecting a fight about Merry all over again.

"I don't mean that!" The thoughts in his brain were all over the place, so he placed his forehead in his palms, as if hoping the thoughts would be drawn to his fingers and come to the forefront of his mind. "I mean… that I left. I left the crew and I never came back and I never and still haven't apologized for my stupid pride and yet here you guys are, calling me Nakama as if I did."

"What are you talking about?" Luffy laughed then. "You did, didn't you? Practically every day you did."

Usopp started in surprise, wondering if Luffy had somehow, possibly, heard him across the sea but no, he vaguely recalled something – something about their clever, thieving Nami stealing the research notes on him, trying to erase the traces of him ever being in that hell at all. Of course; the Spy Coats had probably mentioned his apologizes in them in the name of 'science'. And, hell, maybe he had been apologizing and just couldn't remember.

"So no more apologizes okay? We've forgiven you. Okay?"

Well, what could he say to that? "O-Okay."


And then more time passed and blurred together. The next time he said something that he actually remembered, it was up in the observation deck with Zoro while the man trained. The clanking of his heavy weights was a familiar comfort.

"I can't be the sniper anymore."

Cla-Nk. The weight was set down and Zoro leaned against it. He said nothing, only eyed him and patiently waited for him to explain.

"Being a sniper… it's all about precision." Usopp said. "I can't even get my hand to work the way I want it to make a new slingshot. Hell, I can't even draw. How am I going to shoot?"

Zoro regarded him for a little longer, before saying finally, "Have you given up on your dream?"

"Huh?"

"Being a brave warrior of the sea. Have you given up on it?"

Usopp paused and thought on that, before slowly shaking his head. "Of course not."

"Then you're still our sniper." Cl-Ank. The weight was picked up. "As long as you haven't given up, you'll get around any handicap."

And as the weight was swung around again, Usopp eyed the visible scars on Zoro's ankles and nodded to himself.


The next time everything stood still wasn't too long after that. Since he had so few memories that were both from after his time as a lab rat and staying concretely in his mind, the few he did have he admitted to obsessing over; playing them over and over like one of Franky's guitar ditties. So, it was as he thought more and more about his conversation with Zoro, something very fundamental occurred to him that he hadn't even really believed was possible anymore.

"Usopp? Are you alright?"

He jumped, surprised to find his face wet and he rubbed at his eyes, looking up. Sanji was the one to of spoken, the smells of lunch cooking filling the room. Nami was leaning against the counter, sipping at a drink he must have given her, but they were both watching him worriedly. He looked back down, running his fingers over the wood he was carving to be used with his newest slingshot, before saying softly, "I'm alright – better than alright even. I just realized something is all."

"What's that?" Nami asked curiously, coming over to perch on the table. There was a steady rhythm of cutting from the kitchen area, Sanji chopping up vegetables for a soup, but he knew he was listening as well.

"Well…" He hesitated, but Chopper had at some point (or more likely at several points) encouraged him to speak his mind when he could with them – that it would help his mind cope if he told those he trusted things even if they were hard to say. So he continued on, albeit hesitantly, "Back… Back there I… I don't know when it happened but I had given up you know. I wanted to die. Tried to kill myself a few times even and was just living day by day waiting for my last. And I may have still been breathing but… but it was like I was already dead then." He fingered the wheedling knife nervously, hearing the chopping slow and then stop. A moment later there was a sparking clack as the chef lit a cigarette. Usopp pressed on. "Even after you guys came, it still hadn't really sunk in until now… that I can live again."

His swallowed hard then looked up. Nami looked wretched and Sanji's gaze was intense, but he smiled to them, "I may not have my mind all the way yet but I have my Nakama and my dream back and that was more than I ever thought I'd have again. It's… It's kind of overwhelming really but in a good way."

"Just remember you'll never lose those things again." Sanji said, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

Nami's look had softened into a small smile, reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder, "Right. We'll all make sure of that." Those words really lifted his heart.

And to his greatest joy, he remembered the rest of the day – every last minute.

That was why, by the end of it, he knew it was time.


"How long has it been?"

Though the entire crew was behind him, none of them spoke.

"I get it. No questions, right?" He sighed, falling back onto the lawn deck and shut his eyes, the ever-present sun beaming down on him. Robin's words came back to him.

Once you've accepted what has happened, then everything will be alright.

He spread his arms out and sighed softly. Started speaking but not to anyone. He knew he was alone. "Hey, guess what? I finally remembered the name of the ship. And guess what else? She's taking me home." He turned his head, his cheek pressing against the worn wooden deck, "It's good to see you again… Merry."

Subject: 3657

Drug administered: Vivrecine 4A

Response: Reaction was similar to first administration in experiment 74. Subject became dazed immediately after drug was given. Shortly thereafter, he began mumbling what appeared to be a tale about being released from the laboratory. Subject reacted to no outside stimuli and movement was minimal to none.

Vitals post-administration: Hormone levels in the brain show an increased number of endorphins. Breathing and heart rate were slightly elevated but reportedly stable.

Recovery: Not Applicable

Additional Notes: Subject has been terminated.


So, admit it. How many of you saw that end coming? My goal was to have it be unexpected, but failing to do so wouldn't necessarily bum me out as long as my readers were entertained. Thanks as always for reading my insanity! I'll try to write something more normal in the future.