"Shell shock." Pops comments as he and Marco spy on the wanderer.

"Guilt." Marco answers, remembering the sorrow-filled eyes when the wanderer brings up his lost crew. He had been spying on the two's conversation while on watch. The look that the wanderer bears is similar to what some of his crew members had borne after a large battle.

When one keeps their mind trapped on something, they can never move on. The wanderer is stuck in the past, haunted by the spirits of his former crew and the heavy weight of his guilt sinks heavily on him. If Pops and the Whitebeard Pirates had been more ruthless, he would have abandoned the wanderer on the closest isle already, for there is no use for a crew member who lets his memories overtake himself.

"The next time we go ashore, talk to him." Pops asks, his face frowned in thought. "He's not willing to say anything to me. Perhaps someone who's better at discussing these issues should involve him." Thatch and Marco were often the ones to get new crew members to open up. With Thatch on bed rest (He should be, but Marco is highly suspicious of the shadow that had lurked in the kitchens while he was on watch duty), it's up to Marco to handle it.

He nods, thinking of how the wanderer had acted on board the Moby Dick during his first days. He had startled when some of his brothers had thrown things at him, and woe betide the one who had surprised him, for the wanderer would yell at him. Of course, he would apologise afterwards, but that's not the issue here.

Some never recover from shell shock. He thinks that whatever problems the wanderer has, the wanderer would try to keep to it himself.

He turns and opens the door, heading towards the infirmary. He needs to discuss with Thatch on how they would approach this.

"But I have no one else to rely on!" Young Luffy screams, his desperate loneliness shining through.

"I can't go back to Foosha Village...And I hate the mountain bandits...! If I didn't chase after you, then I'd be alone...And being alone hurts worse than pain!"

"Luffy?" Ace asks, as they squat down at a corner where Luffy's crew can't hear them. The wind is unusually strong, hence most have their collars up as shields against the wind. The rest of the crew is secluded to one side, presumably to give him some space.

"Yes?" Luffy is digging his booger and flicking it against the wind. To Ace's disbelief, the booger flies off-tangent and lands squarelyon the cook's face, provoking a disgusted sound. The brush of wind against the whistling reeds almost makes the wind sound as though it is laughing.

"Do you remember what you said about why you didn't tell Bluejam about our treasure?" It is still painful and hard to think about how Luffy had continued to say nothing about the location of their stash, even if Ace had intentionally led Luffy into routes where even he would not dare to tread and had only known Luffy for a few days. Luffy's inclination to make friends with those around him will kill his brother one day, he's sure.

Luffy's face is dragged into a pained expression, and Ace immediately regrets asking it. Mentioning the incident would bring up the memories of their third brother. Sabo's death was much more painful to Luffy, as his little brother was too young to see his friend go so early in his childhood.

"Do you have people to rely on now?" Luffy's eyes are glistening, and his snot is dripping. Ew. Stupid little brother. Nonetheless, Ace grins in relief.

"Yeah! I have you, Zoro, Nami, Chopper, Sanji, Usopp, Sanji!" Luffy chimes, "And Grandpa and Shanks and Makino—"

He should be alright. He has so many people to rely on, and I don't think any of his crew would betray him. He is loved.

Am I? He thinks of Pops' concern when he had left to chase after Teach. Marco's talk about how Pops treats his crew as his family, and calls them by such, and how Teach had betrayed that trust burns him more than what his Devil Fruit does. Thatch's jokes as they cheerfully showed Big Mom who was in charge on Fishman Island. Haruta's persistent pranks of the whole boat. Jozu's serious face as he played chess against Vista, who's probably throwing petals everywhere even now on the Moby Dick.

What would happen if he dies? Would they mourn him? Will those he had harmed both directly and indirectly curse his existence, the same way he curses his biological father? What happens to those he leaves behind?

Meanwhile...

"Oi, marimo!"

"What, shitty cook!"

"What was that for!"

"What are you talking about?"

"You deliberately did that! Swerving the booger onto my face?"

"You probably deserved it."

"What? Shitty moss-head, you are asking for it! Diable Jambe!"

"Now now, our captain is bonding with his brother. Don't fight!"

"Ow!"

"Your finger-flicks are as divine as ever—Ouch!"

"She's right you know? We don't usually get to see our captain's relatives outside of a fight. We should probably leave them to it. Now look, you're the strategist here, what are we to do?"

"I have a plan, but I would need to contact someone else. Now, where can I find good food on board that ship?"

"Aah~!" Thatch breathed in the sweet savoury fragance of his lunch. Ramen in a thick broth with a pork-bone base, with a garnish of spring onions. A hard-boiled egg sliced into two, with the egg yolk mixing with the soup broth such that the essence of the bone marrow could be tasted in one bite. He bit into the egg, savoring the meal that had required two hours of pestering from the cooks on duty and teasing of the nurses to allow this meal to slip past the head doctor's watchful eye. Bliss!

" 'scuse me. Excuse me!" Thatch looks around, searching for the owner of the voice. He had ignored it the first few times, thinking that it was probably from someone on deck.

"Oi! Shitty bastard!" Was it the wanderer? The voice was definitely too low to be Marco. Then again, the wanderer had such a high-pitched voice, so maybe his throat was sore.

"Pompadour!" Okay, that's it. Bad enough that he was being insulted, but his hairstyle in particular? He was still sore about how the nurses had forbidden hair products in the infirmary. He tossed his limp hair sideways, and narrowed his eyes on the sudden movement at the corner on his eyes. He focused.

"Oh god." Thatch stared. "I'm high. I'm so high."

"On what? It must have been difficult to sneak things into the infirmary. I would know." His food is talking. His strips of cabbage have managed to form a mouth that is flapping at him, and one of the cooked eggs, deeply fried and most definitely alive is looking at him. Even the ramen seemed to have formed some kind of forelock. I must be on some kind of drug or something.

"Oi, are you paying attention to me!" The cabbage barks angrily at him, and the curly uzumaki fishcake currently acting as his food's eyebrow is raised at him in impatience.

"I need to talk to someone about my Captain. Scar under eye, huge appetite for meat, answers to the name of—" The talking bowl of noodles pauses, before continuing, "Wait, scratch that. Laid back personality, probably just reached your ship. Heard of him?"

Oh god. Is he referring to the wanderer? A bowl of food is asking for the wanderer? A BOWL OF RAMEN IS SEARCHING FOR THE WANDERER AND HAS EYES ON OUR SHIP?

Thatch promptly fainted.