"I thought I'd find you here."
Joan didn't bother to look up from her writing. It was incredibly difficult to find solitude on a ship full of hundreds of sailors, and she was mildly irritated that Rosemary found her now. The cargo hold had become her sanctuary during the long, hard journey to the West Blue. With nothing but the rats and her thoughts for company, she could gather enough strength during her off-duty hours to maintain the professionalism that was expected of her.
"You know, for someone who said they missed their friends, you've sure got a funny way of showing it," Rosemary drawled. "You can't just hole yourself up in here every time you're not on duty. It ain't productive, and it sure as hell ain't healthy."
Joan set her quill down gently and blew on the paper to help the ink dry. "It's too loud everywhere else."
"Oh for the love of—Do you think you're the only one hurting?" Rosemary demanded. "Half your squad's been reassigned to Vice Admiral Kuzan. Do you really think you're the only one upset about Vice Admiral Saul's defection?"
In truth Joan was miserable. Somewhere along the line she'd gotten it in her head that reuniting with Rosemary and meting out justice to the traitorous Oharans would magically make things better. That, of course, was nothing but foolishness. She had admired the Vice Admiral, looked up to him as an ideal marine. After finally being removed from the toxic environment of her first assignment, Jaguar D. Saul had taken Joan under his wing and made her feel welcome. Useful. He had taught her how to use her Devil Fruit, encouraged her interests in the sciences, and sponsored her most recent promotion.
Rosemary didn't understand that, and Joan didn't expect her to. Rose had always been an independent spirit. Her own commanding officer was a self-admitted sloth, and yet she'd flourished since graduation. Already a captain, Rose carried herself with a self-assured confidence that Joan didn't remember seeing even during their Academy days. She had never needed the support Joan required to truly thrive.
Vice Admiral Saul's actions had greater consequences than the escape of Nico Olvia. Joan's trust in her own judgement was shattered. Cancerous self-doubt ate at her constantly. How could she have been so blind? What other evils had she overlooked? And, worst of all, why?
"Talk to me, Joan," Rosemary said. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me."
Joan bit back a caustic remark and closed her eyes. "I don't think you can help me when I don't know what the problem is. This is something I've got to figure out on my own."
"Horseshit." Rose sat down beside her and slung an arm around her neck. "By this time tomorrow we're going to be eyeball-deep in the worst fight either of us has ever seen. We're going to have to depend on each other then, and we've gotta depend on each other now. You know better than to bottle all this…this fear up inside."
"I'm not afraid; I'm angry," Joan snapped. Her vision had suddenly gone cloudy. "How could he? The Oharan Devils want to destroy the world. Those poneglyphs are illegal for a reason, and he…he just let her go. Did we mean so little to him?"
Anyone else would have tried to comfort her, but Rosemary only shrugged. "I dunno. Vice Admiral Kuzan always spoke highly of him." A troubled look crossed her face, and didn't say anything more for a long while. Joan waited. Rosemary was a methodical thinker, and rarely said something important without considering all of the implications beforehand.
"You always said I had good 'intuition'," she began slowly. "I'm not sure that's the right word for it. I never told you before, 'cause, honestly, it sounds crazy even to me, but sometimes I can hear things."
"Like voices?" Joan asked.
"Not…exactly." Rosemary scowled a little in frustration. "It's hard to explain, but do you remember that day I took you to that festival when we were at the Academy?"
How could she forget? "Yes."
"I lied to you that night. I never had plans to go with anyone else, but I couldn't think of any other way to get you to come with me."
Joan raised her eyebrows. "Then why ask at all? I wasn't the friendliest of cadets."
"Still aren't," Rosemary said with a grin that was only slightly forced, "but I could tell that you weren't half the pompous ass you pretended to be. You fooled most everyone else, but I knew you were the loneliest person I'd ever laid eyes upon. You were just too stubborn to admit it. Even to yourself." She paused to take a deep breath.
"I hear things like that all the time, and it's been that way ever since I was a little kid. But lately it's been happening more often, and you know what, Joan?"
"What?"
"I'm starting to realize that things are hardly ever what they seem to be." Rosemary picked up the paper Joan had been working on. "And people who aren't afraid don't take out the time to write out their last will and testament."
A lump formed in Joan's throat, and she had to look away so Rosemary couldn't see the tears in her eyes.
Strong, warm arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her in close. Had anyone been there to see, they would have laughed at the sight of tiny Rosemary consoling the infamously cold-hearted marine lieutenant.
But still waters run the deepest. Just because Joan hid her pain behind an armor of callous apathy that did not mean that it was not there, and for the first time since Jaguar D. Saul's betrayal, she allowed herself to weep over the loss of the man she thought of as the father she'd never had.
