Edward Newgate was not a kind man. One did not become the world's strongest pirate captain by kindness, even if he was capable of such to his vast number of children and allies. That didn't mean he could not feel compassion, however. Compassion he felt as he watched the small brat follow carefully at his son's heels. He didn't need to see the brand to know the boy was a former slave, and his heart went out to the brat.

It was because of that he was disappointed with Marco for bringing the boy with him. A lone ex-slave would have a hard time adjusting in one of their protected villages, especially one who refused to even look around. His son knew better, or so he thought when his eldest tossed what could only be a bomb collar.

There was a flash of something on the brat's face. Something between terror, betrayal and hopeless acceptance before the boy's face went frighteningly blank. Newgate didn't miss the look Marco sent him, or the pointed way Jozu rested a hand on the brat's shoulder. They were both willing to fight him on this. "He's staying, Oyaji."

The rest of the crew fell silent, waiting for their Captain to decide. Whitebeard sighed, finger running over the etching in the collar. He knew very well what it all meant, and it was easy to see why it bothered Marco so. It might have been a lifetime ago, but Whitebeard still remembered the jeering taunts and abuse of a forgotten island that tormented a young man for the very gift that would later make him so feared across the Blues. He leaned forward, "Come here, brat."

The brat, Das, didn't even flinch. Whitebeard would have been impressed if he wasn't sure it was something that had been beaten out of the kid. Looking down at the boy standing before him he felt a headache coming on. The kid was more than half dead, weakened by the seastone on his arm to boot. He wouldn't be any kind of asset to the crew, not like this. If he ever would be…. Well. Newgate had seen people come back from worse. Granted, not often, but it did happen.

He held out the useless collar, watching as the boy's eyes followed it. There wasn't desperation or longing in that look, so there might be hope. Still… destroying it now would likely scare the kid. "You know this has no power over you, brat."

Dark eyes glanced up at him and away.

"We don't keep slaves on this ship." Newgate began again, reaching down and cupping his hand around the boy to pick him up as the brat shuddered, eyes darting to the rail. To the sea. By the gods the brat probably thought he was going to toss him overboard. He didn't need the dirty look Marco sent his way to regret it. Whitebeard leaned back, and when the boy glanced at him he sighed. "All those aboard this ship are my children, Das. Do you understand?"

Mutley the boy nodded before a raised eyebrow had him offering a hesitant answer. "Y-yes?"

He didn't understand, not really. But that was fine; the words were more for the others anyway. Whitebeard pocketed the horrible collar, vowing to crush it as soon as he was sure the action would not put the brat in shock. The doctors wouldn't forgive him for that, especially with how thin the poor brat was. Whitebeard looked over his children, searching for one he could trust to handle things for the moment. "Thatch, bring your new brother to the infirmary, and then get him something to eat. Afterwards bring him to my room; we will find somewhere for him to bunk." The Captain stood, eyes landing on Marco in a silent order to follow. They had much to talk about it seemed.