I do not own these characters.
-Part 1-
Dealings and Playing Pirates
-Now-
The drive to Vergo's place took nearly an hour to get to. Whatever the reason for being called, it had better be good.
It had been a long week. Planes hit some towers in New York, and the sale for cocaine surprisingly drops as citizens decide to suddenly stand together. Proud to be an American? Nonsense. Nobody really cared about being an American, whatever the hell that even meant. Everyone was hurt over having something precious taken away from them: their privacy, their sense of value and the discourses that came with being born in this country. Doflamingo had plans to make and he knew the only way to get there was to make dough. You'd think after something so horrifying people would flock to get their hands on some precious white gold in order to ease the sudden smack across the liberty. Humanity was a strange thing.
He pulled into the driveway of a nice, white suburban home and parked his car in an unfashionably crooked manner. The first thing Doflamingo noticed when stepping out of the car was the opened garage door and the lack of flasks and bottles. Vergo must have cleaned out. Did he really think some destroyed buildings would raise suspicion in a house located on the other side of the country? Although Vergo's worries made him feel somewhat distraught, Doflamingo couldn't help but smile at the opportunity of tossing drug dealing aside for something new. Perhaps something more profitable and less predictable, like humanity itself? Doflamingo grinned brightly at the thought of it. He had always been fond of selling the living. What better way to make money than to take hold of valuable flesh and bone and sell it to the highest bidder? Drugs destroyed the body and mind, but slavery only performed the latter. There were so many people trying to make money in the drug business, but not nearly enough people were capturing selfish white girls off the street and endowing them with the real knowledge of what was privilege and oppression.
"Vergo honey, I'm home," Doflamingo loudly announced as he made his way into the garage. He passed by the folding table Caesar had been using up till now and made his way to the door located at the corner of the once dingy room. Everything had been cleaned up just recently: the floors were damp from being hosed down, and the air had visible, white dust flying around. Vergo must have spent hours sweeping up the mess; tossing all the flasks, bottles, tubes, and buckets of chemicals, powders, flints, and over-the-top pills.
"Vergo, where are you?" Doflamingo called. He opened the screen door into the house and hunched over, his tall frame just making it through the door.
"In the living room," he heard a calm voice reply. He carefully made his way into the hallway, his shoes producing soft clicks against the hardwood flooring, and peered into the grand living room where his current ally meandered about. Around the room were taped up boxes, most likely containing all the materials. The screen door was closed, but the curtain was moved to just one side, exposing everything going on right now for any passerby peeper. Vergo was wearing civilian clothing today, which was extremely odd for Doflamingo, even with the current situation. Vergo's intense demeanor simply did not match this simple form of fashion.
"Uhm…"
"I seemed to have lost the remote," Vergo muttered disdainfully. He faced his boss and Doflamingo was all the more surprised to see Vergo without his sunglasses on, instead they hung on the collar of his shirt. "I was hoping to get some news in before starting the meeting…"
Doflamingo pointed. "The remote's in your hand."
The tall man looked down at his hand and stoically remarked, "So it is…ah, well it's a little too late for that anyways. I suppose you're wondering why I called you in, Sir."
"I really need to find another word for you to use other than "Sir"," Doflamingo muttered. He flopped himself on the leather couch and let his long arms rest across the frame. He smiled grandly at Vergo. "It's a little too…I don't know, pretentious, don't you think?" He stretched out his long legs on the glass coffee table, his grin growing wider when he heard a soft creak from underneath his legs.
"It's not really my place to say," Vergo answered with a slight shrug. He carefully placed the remote next to Doflamingo's crossed legs, flinching when he heard the glass groan from the added weight. "By the way, how has your output been since the incident?"
"I don't like it," Doflamingo said, ignoring Vergo's last comment. He was beginning to suspect, mostly from Vergo's well-adjusted behavior, that things would continue as is. He rested his finger and thumb against his chin as he pondered aloud, "What do you think? Would "boss" be any better?" He rested his head and stared up at the white ceiling, chuckling to himself. "Then again, with the change of business, it may be better for me to just give myself another new name to work with!"
"New business?" Vergo asked.
Doflamingo lowered his sunglasses, making sure Vergo could see the determined look on his face, how eager he was for this new opportunity.
"We're closing," Doflamingo said. "No drugs. Nobody wants them now. Smiles out, bodies in."
"Oh," Vergo muttered. A small frown appeared on his long face as he slowly began to lower his gaze away from the blonde. "Caesar will not like this."
"It was a good year," Doflamingo continued. "Be sure to send our beloved chemist a severance package, maybe some toffee and peanut brittle." He clasped his hands together in delight and laughed manically. "Better yet, we'll get him an Asian girl! He like's those, right?"
Vergo sighed through his nose and gave a short nod before situating himself on the couch right next to Doflamingo. He removed his sunglasses from the collar of his shirt and used them to cover his somewhat disappointed expression. "Might I ask why we're suddenly closing shop?" he asked.
Doflamingo crossed his arms. "Do you really need to know?"
"You said it yourself, it was a good year."
"You know I've never been into the drug dealing," Doflamingo answered. He spread his legs across the table, his right leg pushing the remote closer to the edge. "I like making misery, but drugs have been overdone to death. There's no money in it, not compared to the human trade." Doflamingo leaned in close to his subordinate, resting his head on Vergo's shoulder and smiling innocently at his severe expression. "And considering what just happened, the garage being cleaned out, and the last batch having been made almost two weeks ago, I think now's the perfect time to start anew."
"I simply moved everything across the storages," Vergo replied. He cusped his hands and used them to bury part of his face. "I figured you'd want to take precautions."
"And I'm glad you did," Doflamingo answered. He removed himself from Vergo, replacing his head with a hand. "You did a fine job. So did Caesar."
"What will we do with the remaining product?" Vergo hunched and pointed at the few boxes. "The remaining ingrediants?"
"Fufufu, sell it until we run out of course," he laughed. "You go to that marine base and see if any of the boys will have at it. I'll have Violet sell some of my half, maybe the kids at her school will be willing to buy."
"You'd risk selling crack through a fourteen year old?" Vergo asked. His voice revealed neither shock nor disgust at Doflamingo's suggestion. He didn't even turn his head.
"She knows what to do," Doflamingo answered with a greedy voice. "Would you rather I sell it myself? In this distressed economy?"
"I take it the attacks on the towers have not been well on your side," Vergo stated.
"Are you suggesting things are better for you?" Doflamingo asked.
"If I was to put up an argument for why you should continue business," Vergo said with a confident smirk, "it would be the successful deals taking place around that base." The man stood up from the seat and walked over to the stand located next to the television. Doflamingo watched patiently as Vergo knelt over and opened the drawer lifting out the false bottom and placing it on top the stand. "These men will take whatever they can get their hands on," Vergo commented, slipping out a key from the real bottom of the drawer. He then walked over to Doflamingo and handed him the key. "And nobody notices when a bunch of marines act out."
Doflamingo silently eyed the key before plucking it from Vergo, "What's this lead to?"
"A lock in my bedroom," Vergo answered as he sat himself right back in his previous spot. "Everything I've saved. For all of this. If you let me take your share I can show you how well business is right now."
"Just because you can sell now doesn't mean you'll sell in the future," Doflamingo countered. "Everyone's calling this a terrorist attack. How are you going to sell to these men once things start getting real ugly? Unless you're inside they'll have you searched and it will be all over."
Vergo frowned. "…You're right," he said, "and here I was thinking how insulting it was that you'd be relying on a teenager to make money."
"Violet's a smart girl." Doflamingo played with the key in his hand, letting it grow warm as it rubbed against his large fingers.
"Human trade is extremely dangerous," Vergo said. "And with this attack on the country how do you expect us to get away with it?"
"We'll have the advantage of starting right when security will be at it's strictest," Doflamingo answered. "Every big busy-man is going to be trying to readjust. With the money we have now I'll set up a series of possible trails and gather information on any trades currently going on. Worst comes to worse I'll even play the subordinate role in a bigger branch."
Vergo didn't answer. Instead he remained still, listening to his boss' suggestions. Doflamingo knew Vergo would listen to him. In the two years they've known each other he had managed to surprise the older man and create an empire. Doflamingo knew how to sell ideas. He knew how to get people to listen to him. He had territories spread out and rivals that couldn't compare their product to his. Best of all, Doflamingo knew exactly how to treat his customers. He kept Caesar's best saved for customers who had the big bucks, and offered the less pure gold to those who were desperate for a hit. He created addiction by giving away strong, clean coke to new timers, and once it became a daily routine, would raise prices and have them fight over what he chose to offer.
"And what do I tell Caesar?"
Doflamingo made a lazy, uncaring shrug. "It would be wrong if we told him today. I think I'll wait a few days, give him the impression things are fine. Once we've sold the rest of our product we'll give him his share and send him on his way."
"Not worried?"
"He won't say a goddamn thing," Doflamingo said. He got up from his seat and eyed the small key in his hands. Knowing Vergo had spent money on a safe, spent the time to hide a key, and had shown confidence in handing him the valuable information did make Doflamingo wonder about his choice to have Violet sell. Sure, kids were a wonderful demographic, but if Vergo was doing this swell of a job then maybe it would be wise to reconsider. And Vergo was a brilliant man, even with his threat of possibly being caught Doflamingo was positive Vergo had little to worry about.
Doflamingo chuckled. "Let's see how much you got saved up." He gestured towards Vergo to lead him to his bedroom. "Violet's smart, but if you've got what it takes then I'll have you take it."
He watched as Vergo suddenly light up, enthusiastic to prove himself in their soon-to-be-over business. Doflamingo wondered whether Vergo had felt just a touch of dismay over the loss of their dealings. No, but Vergo must have known that he wanted to change. Doflamingo loved destroying lives too much to settle with something so low as drug dealer. It didn't matter if he was to become the king of the streets. Doflamingo wanted something more. He couldn't settle for anything less than more. You need it all, Doflamingo reassured himself.
"Show me the way," he said. He knew where Vergo's bedroom was, but chose for his partner to lead out of respect.
"Right away, Sir."
"Seriously," Doflamingo said, "we really need to find another word that doesn't make me sound like some conceited bastard."
"I'll be sure to think of something," Vergo replied. The two walked back into the hall, Doflamingo half-eyeing the family pictures that littered the baby-yellow walls. All were aligned in such a way that made the pictures appear crooked, imperfect. And it seemed as though every collection of family photos had a smiling child, a loving mother, and bright colors that would trick the visitor into believing that this was Vergo's life, his family, his everything. Surely the bent nail that hung an embarrassing photo of a young Vergo must have been bent out of frustration, misused affection, or nostalgia? It would be impossible to comprehend that a man would set the time aside to make certain photos were hung with less care than another, were doctored and organized to produce a sense of trust.
Doflamingo loved this man. He couldn't think of anyone he would place so much trust into.
"Doflamingo?" Vergo's voice seemed a bit out of its usual pitch. It was him being nervous again.
"What?" he asked.
"How exactly do you plan on getting all these people?" Vergo opened the door to his room and let his young boss through first. Doflamingo felt a small, almost childish smile emerge on his face.
"We take them, of course," Doflamingo responded. "It's not hard, Vergo."
"And where from?" his subordinate asked without letting the last comment sink in. Doflamingo knew that Vergo knew the answer to this question. America of course. Plenty of attractive men and women roaming the streets; there was no reason to outsource and gather girls from the streets of Europe of South America.
"You know we have a nice supply right here," Doflamingo stated. He walked right into a very plain bedroom that lacked any real sort of decoration that would provide a visitor the sense of who Vergo was. Of course, nobody would ever be so unlucky to have entered this strange sanctuary. "All we have to do is be clever in how we snatch them, and even more clever in where we place them!"
"You plan on selling them within the states?" This time Vergo was shocked.
"Fufufu, of course I won't limit myself to just outside the country," he answered. "I'll sell them all over the planet, and if someone here wants a California-girl, I'll give it to him for the right price."
Vergo sat himself down on the painfully neat bed. White sheets, white spread, white pillows. This matched the eggshell walls and off-white shelving. This wasn't a lack of personality, nor was it made to disgruntle anyone who dare enter the room. Nope, this was the real Vergo.
"Seems terribly risky," said subordinate muttered.
"Ah, Vergo, don't fret," Doflamingo remarked. He rested a foot on the wooden framing and kneeled over his second, his shadow covering nearly all of Vergo's self. His childish grin was replaced with a more sinister one, adult and full of greed and ghastliness. "It's not that hard. No more harder than taking anything else without permission."
Despite being bothered just moments before, Doflamingo saw Vergo smirk, and then chuckle. "You're comparing slave trade with stealing, you know that?"
Doflamingo pouted. "I don't like the term, stealing. Stealing. It sounds so… juvenile." Doflamingo hovered right above Vergo, allowing his sunglasses to slip and exposed a threatening glance at the older man. "And I know that's exactly what you're tying to suggest, Vergo, that it really is quite similar. No, but it's not stealing."
"…is there another term you'd prefer?" Vergo asked. The well-composed manner of his voice sounded forced.
"Plunder," Doflamingo answered.
"And might I as what the difference between the two words?" Vergo asked.
"Stealing implies the childish behavior of taking another's property," Doflamingo answered, "and plunder involves the illegal, usually forced, taking of another's good." He removed himself from his previous position and stood upright in front of Vergo. "And if you're curious to know, the difference between property and goods, at least in this case, is quite simple." Doflamingo lifted a finger. "Goods are always in demand, which is why force is usually involved in the process, and," he lifted a second finger, "while property may be desired by many, it is by no means always in demand, and since it doesn't imply that same sense of vulgarity that plundering does it is often viewed as the lesser." Doflamingo lowered his hand, letting his two fingers stiffly curl into a tight fist.
"Children steal…men plunder."
"I understand," Vergo said.
"An the last thing we need is for our goods to think they're property," Doflamingo added.
"Ah, so there was a third point," Vergo said.
"There will be as many as I need there to be," Doflamingo replied. He felt his chest relax as he watched Vergo slowly sway his head up and down.
"Right," Doflamingo said. His eyes turned to the closet located on the other side of the room. "You had something you wanted to show me."
"Ah, yes!" Vergo stood up and began to pat down his pockets. "The safe…now where did I put the key?"
Doflamingo sighed through his smile and grabbed Vergo by the shoulder, his key at hand. "I have the key," he said.
"So you do," Vergo replied. He took the key and opened the sliding door closet, exposing the small safe located on the bottom. Other than it being tucked into the corner, only shielded by some shoes and a coat, the safe itself wasn't well hidden. Doflamingo took great pride seeing this.
"I'm expecting something big on the other side," said the tall blonde.
"You will," Vergo remarked assertively.
Doflamingo rested his arm against the wall, his body looming over the older man as he watched Vergo unlock the safe with the look of a greedy vulture. When the safe was opened he unconsciously dug his fingers into his hair. His nails scrapping against his scalp reminded him the amount saved was in fact real, and Doflamingo couldn't help but laugh as he got down on his knees and fished through the riches that Vergo had produced for him. Treasure, Doflamingo thought, this is real buried treasure. More than you could ever hope to produce.
"You're profiting?" he asked gleefully.
"By one and a half," Vergo answered. "I was considering buying Caesar higher quality tools, but it doesn't look like we'll be needing to do that now."
"Vergo, this is amazing!" Doflamingo picked up a neatly tucked roll of bills and weighed it in his hand before carefully flipping through it. "And all of this was saved up during the year…from marines?"
"They're men without honor," Vergo stated.
Doflamingo placed the money back into the safe, feeling a rejuvenated sensation he hadn't felt in nearly a year. "That they are," he said. "Ah, yes, I'll have you sell the rest of the product we have left." He sucked in his lower lip and felt his chest grow cold with what he was about to say next. He knew Vergo was making money, and there was no evidence this change would be nearly as profitable as the current dealing he was doing now.
"Vergo," Doflamingo said. "We're not going to fire Caesar, not yet." He closed the safe and stood himself up, pulling down his tightened jeans as he acclimated himself back into his unusual domineering pose. "We'll have him produce here and there…but I do plan on trading humans."
"I see," Vergo said. "You don't think this will be too much?"
"It wont be anything compared to what I want you to do," he replied. He allowed some guilt to be shown as he sat himself down on the bed. "You're making money form these deadbeat soldiers, but we can't expect the higher ups to allow a strange man such as yourself to hang around these men, not after everything that's happened this week."
Vergo frowned. "What are suggesting I do?"
"Nothing too big," Doflamingo answered, "just join the marines and make me money for my new business."
Things are coming up nice on this side. Very nice. How are they on yours?
-Then-
Since Crocodile lived so far away the time the two boys spent together was precious, at least it was to Doflamingo. Studying brought by school restricted their weekdays hours to none for the first few years of their friendship, leaving Friday and the weekend the only time Doflamingo would be allowed to visit the other boy, and that was only if he could tire his mother out with a faked tantrum. Neither of his parents wanted him to play with the boy. A child who never smiled, left no address, and spent his days making mockery of others could provide no good influence of their dear, innocent, only son.
This was essentially true, but Doflamingo was sure he'd take up smoking cigarettes, pot, stealing drinks, food, and articles of clothing, music, and other accessories on his own time. All Crocodile really did was slightly speed up the inevitable.
"Stealing's really not that hard," Crocodile muttered as the two of them made their way to the liquor shop located at the opposite side of the neighborhood. The two hurried across the street, Crocodile leading the way and Doflamingo following him while making the occasional glance around the area, doing his best to remember the trees, houses, fire hydrants. This was their sixth time together, and the first time Crocodile would show him more of his tricks since they had first met.
"It isn't?" Doflamingo asked, his mouth agape with exhilaration.
"No, especially since there's two of us now." Crocodile pulled two dollars from his pocket, waving them above Doflamingo as though they were holy relics. "And you're young and cute and you're parents are rich so you wont get in trouble either."
Doflamingo did his best to not blush from the compliment. He turned his attention to the rows of nicer looking houses, making a mental note of their location and wondering if Crocodile lived in one of them.
"Just in case though, I'm gonna spend some money while we do it," Crocodile continued. Hearing this Doflamingo went wide eyed, feeling some of his nerves shake when he realized Crocodile expected him to do this without first showing him.
"What if I get caught?" Doflamingo asked. This was a rhetorical question because of course he would succeed in nabbing whatever Crocodile demanded he get.
"I already told you that you'd be fine," Crocodile said. He arched back and groaned loudly. "Look, if you get caught just scream and cry…they might let you go if there are other people and you scream and cry."
"Will you stay if I get caught?" he asked.
Crocodile's answer came in the form of a swift, elated laugh.
"What's so funny?" Doflamingo asked, frowning at the older boy.
"If you get caught I'm leaving," he answered. "You think I wanna get in trouble? It's your own fault if you get caught doing it."
"Well that not fair," Doflamingo complained. "I've never done this before."
"It's super easy," Crocodile said, stopping in front of Doflamingo and grabbing him by the arm. You're wearing sleeves. Just take two small things at a time, but put one in your sleeve." Crocodile inserted three of his fingers through the sleeve, tickling Dolfmiango's wrists. "You can probably fit gum and some candy in here."
"What about drinks?" Doflamingo asked, his eyes glowing from the joy brought on by the prospects of immersing in sweet teas, juices, and sodas.
"No way, you'll need pants or a backpack if you want to get that," Crocodile said, shaking his head. "You'll get caught no matter what, and once you get caught you can't ever return to the place without getting arrested or something!"
"Did you get arrested?"
Crocodile laughed again. "Hell no! I'd never get caught doing something so easy." Crocodile then moved on to the other article Doflamingo chose wore on this outing, his shorts. Doflamingo jumped when he felt the older boy inspect his pockets. Although there was no direct contact the brief warmth produced from the older boy's hand made Doflamingo extremely aware of how close Crocodile was.
"Your pockets are too small."
"Huh? What does that mean?" Doflamingo asked. Crocodile pulled away and bared his usual frown.
"Means you can't take anything really important," he answered. "No chips, no donuts, no treats." He sighed and stared at the dollars in his hands. "We're gonna have to buy them."
"Is that bad?"
Crocodile groaned. "It's expensive! A bag a of chips is almost a dollar!"
"I like gum," Doflamingo said, "We can get that instead." He smiled at the older boy in hopes that this would somehow make things all better. Crocodile shrugged and walked ahead of Doflamingo, purposely taking bigger steps to get away from what he considered to be a very annoying child.
But Doflamingo caught up and continued to try to appease Crocodile, his small mind eager to find a way to make Crocodile happy. But it seemed like not matter what he said Crocodile would only remark it as being stupid, or him being stupid for even thinking it up. Eventually the two of them made it to the store and Crocodile yanked the boy close and reminded him everything he had told him previously on their way here. He handed Doflamingo a dollar and told him to pick something that was less, but before he did pick it to wander around the store and pretend to look around.
"That's when you do the stealing," he whispered into Doflamingo's ear. "Pick two things up, put one away. Nothing too big or it will show and you'll get into big trouble."
All Doflamingo could think about was how much of a girl Crocodile looked when his hair fell frontward, covering some of his face, usually the harsh, unwelcoming expressions.
"Ok," he answered somewhat absentmindedly.
"And don't look up at the cameras!" Crocodile warned. "If you look guilty then the adults will ask you what's going on. They'll see you're trying to steal, and I'm not going to help you if you get caught."
"I wont get caught," Doflamingo confidently stated. He looked at the crumbled dollar in his hands and brought it to his face, inhaling the dry scent. How much could a dollar buy? He pulled at Crocodile's shirt and waved the dollar in front of him. "How much do Starbursts cost?"
"Fifty cents, but you can get that for free," Crocodile said. "Use the dollar to get a drink or something really nice." He pushed Doflamingo off of him and walked ahead into store. Doflamingo continued to stare at his dollar and wondered how much he could sneak in without spending Crocodile's money. He wanted to impress the boy so much.
So a young blonde boy wearing nice, currently clean clothes, a bright, pink smile, and the look of awe as he stares at his supposed allowance walks into a liquor store for the first time. The owner looks up from his papers and does nothing. This boy isn't a problem, he thinks. At worst, he won't know how to count the money. No way the child was up to something amiss.
Doflamingo peered up at the drinks selection and wondered how he was supposed to open the sliding door with arms full of candies and gum? He passed by it while lowering his gaze, still keeping a small, childish smirk as he followed the sounds of Crocodile's light steps. He stopped right behind the older boy who was picking through different varieties of chocolates.
Doflamingo stared at the rows of chocolates and slowly lifted his arms up, reviewing the limited space his sleeves offered. "I want a Kit Kat bar," Doflamingo muttered.
"It'll melt right away," Crocodile responded, still squatted over and viewing his potential bounty. "M&Ms last longer in the heat."
It was the middle of October, and the heat was the least of a hungry Doflamingo's worries. He loved the crispy wafers and would eat them right away. "I don't care. Get them for me," he demanded.
With a slight turn Doflamingo saw an eye look up at him with a testing stare. Without saying a word Doflamingo moved to Crocodile side, extended his arm up to reach at the rows of gum and picked two packets of mint gum. With Crocodile still staring intensely at him, Doflamingo carefully let the lower pack of gum slip, his middle finger struggling to keep it from falling anywhere other than the inside of his clothing.
"I like cinnamon," he heard Crocodile say. Doflamingo silently nodded and placed the mint gum away while his upper arm tickled with the cool plastic cover from the gum that he had successfully taken. He picked out two of the same red packets and proceeded to do the same with his left arm. He giggled as the packet ran halfway down his arm, stopping once the gum met with his elbow, and became quiet once more as he hurriedly resituated his arm to hide his second stolen token. When Doflamingo looked down Crocodile was still staring up at him, but this time with a pleased expression. In his hand was a Kit Kat Bar.
Doflamingo slowly browsed the store for a minute more, carefully stashing himself full of candies while Crocodile settled the heavier variety. It was after the older boy went to get himself something to drink did Doflamingo choose to spend his dollar on a Hostess treat.
Doflamingo remembered standing on his toes, carefully lifting his arm as to not lose the now five treats resting within him. His eyes barely met up with the cashiers, but despite his terrible view Doflamingo's small eyes met with a row of dark spectacles gleaming down at him. He swallowed tight as Crocodile called him out of the store, the pain of buyer's remorse hitting him as his focus began to center on the pair of sunglasses located on the top of the row.
"Hurry up!" he heard Crocodile groan. The boy had several hidden things on his self, two of them being delicate chocolate.
"OK! I'm coming," Doflamingo called out. He paid for his one snack while struggling to pull his attention away from the sunglasses that he really wanted to have.
Doflamingo left the store, his arms awkwardly positioned as he followed Crocodile back into the usual neighborhood, his mind still lingering over the temporary loss. As Crocodile halfheartedly congratulated him Doflamingo consoled himself into believing that it simply wasn't meant to be. He couldn't have bought them, sunglasses must cost at least a few more dollars.
Doflamingo become aware of Crocodile's more soothing tone once he felt one of the small packets of gum fall out of his sleeves and on to the pavement. He looked down and remembered he was full of sweets and began to remove them while Crocodile watched. Once he had all the other confectionaries out Doflamingo leaned down to pick up the cinnamon flavored gum, and was greeted with a hand holding on to a now soft Kit Kat Bar. He grabbed at the red package and smiled up at Crocodile.
"Thanks!" he chirped.
Crocodile merely rolled his eyes, choosing to scoff at Doflamingo's appreciation, but even the little boy could see past the other's hard demeanor. Crocodile was proud of him, proud enough to let some of his true feelings break through at the ends of his thin lips, taking the form of a very small, almost unnoticeable smile. "Next time wear pants," Crocodile responded.
It was nearly four in the afternoon when Doflamingo grew tired of the swings and decided to see what Crocodile was up to. The older boy had taken him to their usual meeting grounds, and the very place where Doflamingo had accidently stumbled upon Crocodile for the second time, a small park in the center of the neighborhood that Doflamingo had gotten lost in. Though Crocodile refused to talk about his home, the park did provide a place and address for him to make his weekend treks to.
"Crocodile, Crocodile," Doflamingo ran up to the tree that the boy had been sitting under, expecting him to still be at the journal that he had opened and began drawing in twenty minutes before.
But the journal lay closed on the grass, and Crocodile lay cured up underneath the shade, his eyes barely half open. The fetal position.
"Crocodile," Doflamingo complained in a high-pitched whine. "Get up. I wanna go play on the giant rocks in the desert."
"Mmmmm," Crocodile closed his eyes tight and buried his head in his hands. "Later," he moaned through his palms. "I'm tired."
"But I'm not," Doflamingo said. He crawled close to Crocodile and pulled some candy from his pockets. "Eat some Starbursts."
"No, I'm full," he echoed into his hands. The younger boy watched Crocodile make a face in between his fingers. "I'm tired." To be fair, it had been a hot day. The shade probably felt good. The fat and salts made the body tired. But Doflamingo was a six year old who needed to be constantly stimulated.
"I'm bored," he whined.
"Leave me alone, go do something else," Crocodile muttered. He grabbed a clump of some of the grass and threw it towards Doflamingo. The little boy grimaced at the green blades that covered him while Crocodile closed his eyes and continued to rest. Doflamingo wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him awake, but he knew better.
Doflamingo learned early on in this relationship that Crocodile had something of a bad temper. This wasn't to say that he mistreated Doflamingo. The older boy treated him as any other older child would, with a combination of affection, patience, and moderate annoyance. If Doflamingo did something that he disliked there was almost always a warning. Most of the time it was a look. He'd quickly turn his head that a few strands of hair would fall across his face, but Doflamingo would see between the strands a threatening look and would simmer down. Other times it was vocal; he'd hiss out the words "No" or "Stop it," or if he was really pissed off, "Leave." Crocodile never warned him with physical violence, other than the occasional push. A good thing too since Doflamingo was very affectionate towards Crocodile.
No, he saved the physical violence for other children who upset him. He gave little warning to those who bothered him. Most of the time Crocodile would just wait for them to get close enough and then would suddenly react with cruel retaliation. The weapon of choice usually took the form of sand. Doflamingo learned how something so simple could be used in a multitude of ways. You could throw sand into a persons face, grab handfuls and stuff it into their nostrils and mouth, rub it into scratches, pour it into one's clothing. Once left blinded Crocodile was left with an unlimited amount of options. Sometimes he'd continue to hurt them, usually with kicks, other times with scorn and laughter. But most of the time Crocodile would just watch his victims cry for a minute or two before getting bored and going back to play with Doflamingo.
Never once did Doflamingo think this sort of violence to be unusual. The first time it happened he was quite surprised, perhaps even a little shocked, but recovered fast as curiosity took over. Before he knew it Doflamingo was kneeling next to a crying boy almost twice his age, watching him with a small smile as the child tried to rub away infectious sand from his eyes. He would memorize their howls and helpless screams, and would recall the actions that Crocodile performed in order to achieve these results, and would later remind himself of all of this for later use. He'd carefully squat inches away from another crying child and wondered when he'd be respected enough by Crocodile to be invited into this act of torment. Doflamingo crawled close and wished he could create the same terror that the older boy could. One day you will, he told himself. Crocodile had to be the one to yank him away and return him back to the games they had been playing before. And you did.
Doflamingo began to remove the grass that had been thrown at him when his eyes rested on the journal lying on the floor.
"What did you draw?" he asked. Crocodile continued to curl himself up, only freeing his one arm to lazily gesture at Doflamingo that it was ok for him to look inside.
The young boy picked up the small, worn out journal, and opened it up to expose the crude depiction of a ship of some sort. Doflamingo lifted the journal up, the pencil acting as a marker fell and bounced on the soft ground.
"Is this a ship?" Doflamingo asked. "What kind it is?" He looked over and stared at a very silent Crocodile. After receiving no response for several seconds Doflamingo went back to looking at the picture. Although it had been drawn by a nine year old, Doflamingo did remember the amount of detail that had gone into the picture. He didn't know what it was until he saw the flag decorated with a skull and crossbones, a jolly roger, did Doflamingo piece it together. And then he realized the circles that littered the ship were cannons; the little stick figures holding small sticks were pirates.
"It's a pirate ship!" Doflamingo announced. Crocodile uttered a few audible noises before going silent again.
He flipped through a few pages and stopped at another familiar looking illustration. More skulls, this time encased around circles with lined ridges. It was pirate treasure.
He crawled over to Crocodile, journal in his hand, and waited a few minutes to ask the older boy a question. Of course Crocodile didn't wake up and Doflamingo was force to come up with the connections himself. But after several minutes of thinking it made total sense. Crocodile hid treasure out in the desert like buried treasure. It was just like pirates. And the pictures reaffirmed Doflamingo's suspicion that the aspects of it enchanted the older boy. Pirates had all the fun and adventure.
Doflamingo flipped to the end of the journal and tore out a blank page from the spiraled spine. Crocodile stirred but didn't seem too bothered by the sound. The young boy occasionally looked over, just in case, making sure Crocodile didn't wake up as he began to fold the page. After several attempts to fold the sheet into his imagined surprise for Crocodile, Doflamingo tore out another page, combined it with the original, and made a lopsided, pointed hat with it. He reopened the journal and flipped to a page that had a jolly roger on it. He had never drawn a skull before, and Crocodile's design looked too advanced for him to copy, so he chose to draw his own version instead. With the pencil at hand Doflamingo drew an almost perfect circle on his paper hat, followed by two smaller circles, which he colored in with the pencil. Since he was in a particularly good mood he decided to have his skull smile nice and wide for everyone to see. As carefully as he could Doflamingo made the grin, and began to space out the lines that would become the teeth. A few moments later and Doflamingo lifted the hat up and smiled at his hard work.
In need of immediate praise, Doflamingo chose to take the risk and gave Crocodile a mild shake, and when that didn't work he placed his hat on the ground and used both his hands to awaken his sleeping friend.
"Wake up, I made something," he said loudly. Doflamingo backed up when a hand made a swing at him, just barely missing his face.
"Leave me alone!" Crocodile groaned. He turned his head and glared at the blonde boy.
"Look, look," Doflamingo pestered. He picked up his messy paper hat and practically shoved it into Crocodile's face. "I made you a pirate hat!"
Crocodile squint his eyes and wiped his face, trying to see through adjusting eyes. "What?" he asked.
Doflamingo offered the hat up to Crocodile. "It's a hat! I made it. It has the skeleton head on it, see?"
The older boy grumbled, but took the hat from Doflamingo, raising it up and examining the work put into it. He yawned. "Your skull has no nose," he muttered. No skulls had noses, but both of them knew what he had meant.
Doflamingo shrugged. "I forgot," he said.
Crocodile lightly held on to the hat, making the occasional glance over at Doflamingo, saying nothing more. Looking back, it was pretty obvious that the hat was shit. He had folded over and over, leaving the structure frail and the look crumbled. But little Crocodile's silence and refusal to continue to negatively remark the hat's flaws struck a very powerful chord right now.
"Do you like it?" Doflamingo asked. He moved up close with his hands resting on Crocodile's legs, his face unbearably close to his. The boy looked at the eager child, then back at the hat.
"It's ok," Crocodile murmured, looking down at the misshaped object in his hand.
"Wear it," Doflamingo commanded. Before he could protest the smaller boy yanked the hat away and adorned it on the confused Crocodile's head where it lay for a few seconds before slipping off. As soon as it hit the grass Doflamingo picked it up and carefully replaced the crumbling hat back on Crocodile's head, making sure to adjust it so that it wouldn't fall again.
Crocodile couldn't see what he looked like with the horrible constructed ornament on him, but must have assumed he looked as stupid as the hat did because no sooner did Doflamingo sit back did his face go red from embarrassment. But none of this really mattered because Doflamingo remembered that he kept the damn thing on. Crocodile would stiffly lower his face, avoiding all eye contact from Doflamingo's younger self, but didn't remove the strange article. Especially not after hearing Doflamingo's praises.
"You're a pirate captain," Doflamingo said.
"Captain," Crocodile murmured through his hidden face. He raised his head a bit, revealing some of his pinked face before going back to his previous uncomfortable demeanor.
"Just like in your pictures," Doflamingo added. "Now you're captain of the pirates." He laughed and moved up close to Crocodile, who then proceeded to attempt to move away from Doflamingo. "See, we bury treasure and steal. And you drawed the ship and the coins and stuff."
"Uh-huh…" Crocodile replied. He plucked the hat from his head and stared at it again, and while doing this Doflamingo once again got extremely close to the older boy, waiting for him to further compliment the gift he made. It was a terribly uncomfortable situation for both of them. Even though he was only six Doflamingo could detect the strain coming from the older child, and not knowing why Crocodile couldn't respond positively to his craftwork, he assumed the worse and frowned, letting his hands tuck in between his legs and his fingers dig into the soft soil.
"You don't like it."
Crocodile turned and shook his head. "I didn't say that," he said.
"You don't look like you like it," Doflamingo pointed out. Of course, Crocodile lacked the skills necessary to explain how the gift had made him feel, as terrible and crappy as it was. Doflamingo knew now that the boy appreciated the gesture, especially since no one really knew the fantasies and passions he held as a child, and though it was embarrassing to have to open up to another person, Doflamingo knew Crocodile enjoyed it to some extent. But the child staring at Crocodile right at that moment knew absolutely nothing, was still too selfish to see beyond the games they played.
"I…like it," Crocodile finally murmured, only after hunching over and raising his shoulders to the point where his shoulders matched up with his reddened ears.
"Really?" he asked apprehensively.
"Yesss," Crocodile hissed. He raised his head up and shoved the hat back on his head, the force being enough to tear at the back of it. "See, I'm wearing it," he said, pointing up at the lopsided hat while he kept it up with his left hand. Doflamingo watched with fascination as Crocodile forced a grin on his face. It was awkward to look at since the boy had never tried to appease anyone before in such a manner, but somehow this horrific looking gesture had won Doflamingo over. "I like the hat. I really do."
Doflamingo swayed his head to the side and smiled. "Will you wear it all the time?"
"It tore," Crocodile responded, pulling the hat off and showing the ridden backside.
"Oh," Doflamingo said. He let a hand rest over the ripped section and then turned to Crocodile, somewhat dismayed. "You can't be captain without the hat."
Crocodile sighed. "That's ok," he said, "I don't think I'd just want to be captain anyway."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"I want something more than just that," Crocodile answered while playing with the torn edges of the hat. He smiled, for real this time, and said, "There's a lot of things I'd like to be, you know?"
"Yeah," Doflamingo answered. He looked over at the playground that he had grown bored of previously, and then back at Crocodile, who was now awake and couldn't possibly fall asleep after this. "Let's play in the desert before I have to go."
"Ok," Crocodile muttered, standing up and collecting his things while Doflamingo continued to stare at the crumbled hat in the boys hands.
"Did you have money you wanted to bury?" he asked.
"Not today," the older boy answered. Doflamingo gave a short nod before gazing down at his hands, remembering that forced expression Crocodile made a few minutes ago. Why was it that hard, and why did it upset him so much when he couldn't get the reaction he wanted? Doflamingo sucked the saliva in his mouth and swallowed, growing more frustrated when he couldn't come up with the answer.
"Come on already," Crocodile said. He grabbed Doflamingo by the upper arm and yanked him up. "You need to stop daydreaming."
"Ok," Doflamingo muttered. He followed Crocodile, trying to pay attention to something else than the strange anger that seemed to have appeared from nowhere.
Crocodile must have been aware that something was off. But being the child he was he had no idea what that annoying little brat was upset about, and figured Doflamingo was still caught up on the hat ordeal.
"Hey," Doflamingo heard Crocodile say. He hurried up and aligned himself with Crocodile. The older boy eyed him with his usual bored stared and then sighed. "Thanks," he said. Doflamingo stared back with a blank expression, surprised by this sudden change, and Crocodile groan aloud, exasperated from his weakened dose of Doflamingo.
"Thank. You." Crocodile said loudly. The hat in right hand began to fall apart as it was exposed to nervous, sweaty palms.
Doflamingo grinned from ear to ear. "Your welcome," he said. If Crocodile weren't so clearly irritated with him Doflamingo would have dove in for an attempted hug, but didn't want to risk the cold rejection of being pushed away. This feeling right now was good enough.
Compliments and Criticism appreciated.
