Chapter 52
Trauma
Hawke woke with a start.
As soon as she regained consciousness her memories came rushing back to her in a fragmented, twisted, tidal wave.
"Luffy!" she yelled, sitting up with a jerk.
She cried out as a streak of pain shot across her back.
"Don't worry," said a low voice, "He got away."
Hawke started, which sent another wave of pain through her, and looked wildly around her, trying to take in her surroundings.
Her eyes moved jerkily, her vision blurring and shadowed. Breathing heavily, she rubbed her face and tried to focus. As she did so, she noticed that her body felt numb. Her mind ruled this fact to be unimportant and attempted to turn it towards her environment.
She was sitting in a bed in a small room. The walls and floor were made of wooden planks and she could hear waves and some gulls calling.
I must be on a ship, she had trouble thinking, how did I get here?… I was at Marineford…where am I?
"We barely got away ourselves, the Boss took a few hard hits," the voice continued.
Hawke turned her head and found the speaker.
There was a figure sitting in a chair that was backed against the wall on the far side of the room, across from her. He was shirtless, making the wounds on his chest clearly visible. Hawke's gaze slowly traveled up to his piercing eyes.
"Mr. 1!" she exclaimed in confusion as the man stood, crossing his arms.
Her mind was swimming. What had happened after Ace had…?
Ace!
She suddenly became aware of a pain in her hand. Her body was slowly losing its numbness.
Looking down, she saw her fist clenched so tightly that her knuckles were completely white. She also became aware that she still couldn't feel her hand.
"We couldn't get you to let that go, whatever it is," muttered Mr. 1.
Hawke had to use her other hand to pry her fingers open, revealing a small red bead sitting in the palm of her hand.
No! her mind heaved and she felt a cold sweat break out over her body.
"Ace!" she cried, jumping out of her bed, "Where is he?!"
She immediately fell to the floor as her legs refused to function. The bead fell from her grip and bounced across the floor. She felt herself lunge after it.
"He died," said Mr. 1 sullenly.
"No…" Hawke whispered.
Her heart stopped and her breath caught in her throat. Her hand closed once again around the bead and buried it deep into her pocket before whirling around and facing the agent.
"No!" she cried, "We tried so hard! He was free! You're lying!"
Images immediately sprang to the front of her mind, but she refused to let them in.
"No!" she screamed, pulling at her hair, "No! Stop it! Get out! Go Away!"
She wobbled and fell to her knees once more, still clutching her head.
"No, it's not true!" she yelled, her fingernails digging into her cheeks, "It can't be true… it can't…"
"It is," Mr. 1's voice broke through her thoughts, "Fire Fist Ace is dead."
Hawke looked up at him. Her eyes streaming, showing all the pain that she was going through.
"No!" she let out a hoarse whisper, "Ace..."
She felt the rising sense of despair as her memories pushed their way in and she was forced to face the truth. Her world spun, she fell forwards onto her hands and vomited onto the floor.
A sharp, aching pain pierced her chest as the taste of bile filled her mouth. Hawke cried out and began clawing at her shirt.
"Stop!" she screamed, wiping her mouth as lines of blood began appearing through her clothes.
Mr. 1 stood over her, restraining her clawing hand.
"Calm down or you'll make more of a mess," he muttered.
Hawke looked up at him, her eyes wild, trying hard not to hyperventilate.
She had seen it all with her own eyes.
Luffy holding their older brother in his arms… Ace falling, a smile on his face…. Luffy's heart wrenching wail.
Luffy!
She suddenly felt a strange sensation gripping her trembling body.
"I need to see Luffy," she said in a monotone voice, "He needs me right now."
She heard movement as Mr. 1 dropped her hand, but it barely registered. He said something, but she wasn't listening. Only one thought occupied her mind, controlling her body and her actions.
Get to Luffy.
Hawke was staring blankly into space. Suddenly, she felt something. It wasn't quite a tug, but something was pulling at her. She looked towards the wall on her right.
That's where Luffy is! Her mind told her.
She felt her legs tense and she struggled to her feet. Her movements were jerky and uncoordinated. In fact, she had no control over herself at the moment. Her legs moved and their own and she ran straight into the wall, hitting it head on and falling to the floor with a crash.
Crying out in pain, she raised her head and her fingers began searching the wooden panels.
"What are you doing?" Mr. 1 exclaimed in alarm as he came and stood over her.
Hawke ignored him and continued to claw at the wall. Her head and back were aching, her thoughts were scattered and she was gripped by another wave of nausea.
Her nails dug into the wood as she wretched emptily at the floor.
"Luffy's here," she muttered frantically, once she'd regained her breath, fighting down the bile in her throat, "He's here, he's this way."
"Sheesh," grunted the agent as he dragged her away and tried to put her back on her bed.
"No!" screamed Hawke, reaching up and trying to pull at Mr. 1's large hands, "Let me go to him!"
She wriggled free and ran at the wall again.
You have to go this way! Her mind ordered her and her body forced her.
Mr. 1 caught her just before she hit it for the second time.
"What are you doing?!" he grunted again, "Fire Fist is dead! And if you move to much your wounds will reopen."
Hawke whirled around and snatched two knives out of her jacket pockets. She felt a sudden, massive, wave of anger flow through her chest and ripple along her arms and legs.
He's trying to keep me away from Luffy, she thought, her brain foggy and her vision starting to spin again.
"You won't stop me!" she snarled and sprung at the agent.
He saw her attack coming and raised his forearms. Hawke saw them turn into blades, but she slashed at him anyways. Her knives cut through his blades and into his skin as they made contact.
Mr. 1 stumbled back.
Hawke used this time to turn and run out the door.
She stopped and looked around, finding herself on a small deck. The sky was covered in clouds and the wind blew sharply through her hair, making her tears bite into her cheeks.
So I am on a ship, she thought as she stumbled forward.
Hawke faced the direction she was being drawn towards and jumped up onto the railing.
She bent double as a wave of pain and nausea ran through her, but she steadied herself.
Luffy was there! She could feel her body being pulled to him.
She made to take out her wings and tensed, ready to jump.
But nothing happened.
"What?!" she exclaimed as she wobbled on the rail.
Her wings had stayed in tattoo form; they hadn't come to life!
Mr. 1 had followed her out and grabbed her arm.
"The Boss won't let you fly away," he muttered, dragging her back into the room.
Hawke looked down and saw a brown ring around her chest. She could feel the pressure as it squeezed her. It was just like the shackle they'd put on her in Impel Down! She felt rage boiling up inside her again.
"What is this?!," she seethed, tearing at the band, "Let go! Let me fly to Luffy!"
Her fingers burned as they fell through the strange band but she couldn't manage to break it.
She twisted her body out of Mr. 1's grasp and made for the door again.
But once again, she felt herself being pulled back.
"Let me go!" she screeched and pounced on Mr. 1.
Hawke was lightning on her feet, attacking him from all sides. Her sea prism knives cut through his blade-like skin. She could see the cuts beginning to bleed. She felt angry at everything and almost gleeful that she could take it out on him. The agent tried to lash out at her, but she was too quick for him. A sticky substance began running down her back and legs, but she didn't care.
Hawke's vision was foggy, her thoughts were still only focused on finding Luffy, protecting Luffy.
And he's getting in my way, her crazed mind told her as a fresh wave of rage boiled over her heart, he's lying and he's getting in my way!
Hawke leapt into the air and prepared to drive her blade into Mr. 1's neck. She felt her hands tighten their grip on her knife.
"Hawke," a deep voice rang out.
The call pierced through her clouded mind and startled her. She flinched and the movement made her go wide of her target, her knife slicing through empty air.
She landed and stood still, her body extremely tense.
Mr. 1 staggered away from her and fell back into his chair; his arms and torso were covered in seeping cuts.
"Hawke," said the voice again.
She whirled around in the direction of the sound, her breath coming out in heavy pants.
There was a bed next to the one Hawke had been occupying that she hadn't noticed before. There, with his body covered by a blanket and his arm and hook resting on top of the covers, lay Sir Crocodile. His hair was wet and plastered across his forehead, he looked feverish.
Hawke glared at him, feeling her legs becoming weaker. She took a few staggering steps forwards. Her breath caught in her throat and she had to force her words through.
"You!?" she exclaimed, her voice shaking, "What am I doing here?! Let me go to my brother!"
She sank to her knees, tears streaming down her face even though she didn't remember when she had started crying.
"Let me go to the only brother I have left…" she gasped, "Oh, Ace!"
She swayed from side to side, letting out pitiful wails and groans as her heart and her mind struggled to understand what had happened.
"No, no no," she began tearing at her hair and chest again, "It's all wrong! It's a lie! He's not dead! He's not…"
Hawke screamed and slammed both her fists down onto the wooden planks, bringing her head down with them.
She sat there, on her knees, for a long while. The pain radiating all over her, now fully aware, body providing a slight distraction from the thoughts washing around in her mind like huge, crashing waves.
"What are you doing, Angel?" Crocodile's voice spoke to her through the fog that seemed to cover her eyes, "You're bleeding, and you puked all over the floor."
Hawke stiffened and jerked her face up.
"Don't call me that!" she shouted angrily at him, a wave of regret and shame rising in her chest, "Don't you dare call me that! An angel wouldn't have failed where I did! An angel would have saved Ace! I'm not an angel!"
Her screams had been so forceful that she was once again bent double. Hawke rested her head on the floor again and felt her head pulsing against the wood. Her mind pulled away from the dangerous thoughts about Ace and turned once again to the relative safety of her other brother.
"Clean up your mess, Hawke," Crocodile's voice brought her slightly back to reality.
The girl stared at him, and rubbed her eyes, trying to clear her vision. Then looked towards the wall again. Her thoughts weren't forming in comprehensible ways. She lifted herself and took a few stumbling steps forwards.
"Luffy," she mumbled, still wiping her eyes.
"Strawhat isn't there," Crocodile said in a strained voice, "We're at sea, far away from any land. Now clean yourself up before you make a mess of our entire ship."
"No," said Hawke feverishly, "Luffy's this way. I can feel him."
She pressed her hands against the wall and stood there. It was as if energy was flowing through her, telling her she needed to go this way.
We're at sea…, she thought slowly, at sea…and he won't let me fly…
A thought began forming in her shocked and strained mind.
She heard Mr. 1 and Crocodile talking behind her, but she ignored them.
We're on a boat…, she thought with difficulty, we can sail…
"Do you know healing?" Mr. 1's voice suddenly spoke from behind her.
Hawke spun around.
Both men were watching her warily.
Hawke blinked to try and clear her mind a little; trying to understand the direct question.
"Yes," she mumbled, "A bit."
"Then how about we make a deal," said Crocodile from his bed.
Hawke stiffened.
"What kind of deal?" she asked.
"If you heal my wounds," he said, "Then we will sail where you want to go… Mister 1 here isn't that well versed in the art of medicine," he added the last part as an after thought.
Hawke's mind became a bit sharper and her vision cleared a little as she heard these words. She quickly scrambled to take in her situation and weigh her options.
She was trapped on a small ship with two former enemies, recently turned somewhat allies, and had no idea how she had gotten here or where they were. She couldn't fly as long as Crocodile kept this shackle on her, keeping her wings from emerging. Her back was throbbing painfully and she felt cold shivers running across her chest and stomach. Sailing was her best bet to reach Luffy. And if she was the only healer here, they would have to keep her alive.
"Fine," she nodded, swaying on her feet.
We have to start now, she thought, we can't lose any more time!
Her mind was so focused on getting to Luffy that, for the moment, no other thoughts entered her head.
She pointed at Mr. 1.
"Get your first aid box and let me fix up those cuts I made," she mumbled, "Then you can steer the ship."
Mr. 1 grunted and exited the room.
Crocodile attempted to sit up, but it seemed he couldn't support himself and he slumped back onto the bed.
"You gave him quite the pounding," he grunted, wiping sweat out of his eyes, "But fix yourself up first, or you won't be able to do anything. And clean up that bile."
Hawke didn't answer, not really having listened to him. She staggered over to the ex-Warlord to examine his injuries.
I need to heal him as quickly as possible, she thought, although it would be safest for me if he were incapacitated, maybe this shackle would go away if he became weak enough…
She shook her head.
No, enough of those thoughts, she snapped to herself, I need to ease his suffering, even if he is Crocodile.
Suffering… Luffy must be suffering so much right now…And Ace.
Her hands began to shake. She clenched them into fists and closed her eyes, trying to hold back all the emotions she was feeling.
But when she closed her eyes, all she saw was Ace's death happening right in front of her. His bloodied back gaping at her. Luffy's blood covered hands reaching for his falling brother.
Hawke gave a cry and leapt backwards, falling onto the ground, pain shooting down her spine.
She was back in the little room, Crocodile lay before her, and there was no one else in sight.
Hawke took a few deep breaths, convincing herself that she was far away from the War, and sat up.
"You're still in shock," Crocodile's hard voice drew her attention back to the present, "You've just been dealt a terrible loss, it won't be easy."
Hawke went back to his bedside and looked down at the man in front of her.
He was quite feverish. She could see the beads of sweat dripping down his brow and his hair was very damp and bedraggled. His eyes, which usually held a hard, emotionless gaze, were glazed over and wandering around the room.
He's in quite a state, she thought, he needs your full attention now, remember what Chopper taught you. This will keep you distracted.
"Raise your hook," she said shakily, pulling back the covers to reveal the extent of the sand man's wounds.
Crocodile had a very deep, wide gash across his lower abdomen, and he had a piece of wood stuck right through his right shin.
"Oh my," she gasped, "How are you still conscious?"
He gave her a smirk, though it came out as more of a grimace.
Just then, Mr. 1 returned through the door and rested a large green box on Hawke's bed.
"Here's all our medical supplies," he said, tapping it with his hand.
As he did so, a few drops of blood fell from his arm onto the quilt.
Hawke clicked her tongue.
"Sit over there," she snapped, pointing to the chair, "You're bleeding all over."
Mr. 1 gave her a dark look.
"So are you," he snapped.
Hawke blinked and looked down at herself. There was blood dripping down the back of her legs and she had left a large smear on the floor where she'd fallen.
"Oh my!" she gasped.
After glancing at Crocodile, Mr. 1 sat and waited silently as Hawke inspected the first aid box.
Once again, Hawke felt like her body was moving on its own. She watched almost in awe as her fingers found the latch on the box and opened it. She let the lid fall back and stared at the contents.
"This is very well stocked," she muttered as she sifted through the supplies, still trying to stop her hands from shaking.
She took out a bottle of anti-septic ointment and a box of tenser band-aids with some cotton pads, as well as a large roll of bandages, a syringe and a small green bottle.
She looked at the bottle and bit her lip.
There isn't much in here, she thought worriedly, glancing at Crocodile, then back to the bottle.
And I might not even need it, she thought hazily, I can't think or feel anything right now…
She felt like she was on an island, separated from the world. She was safe inside her body, a blankness had settled around her mind and she just sat and watched the events of her immediate present happen before her.
Though I guess I should do something about my wounds, she thought as a low ache from her back threatened to invade her safe space.
"Could you help me?" she turned and asked Mr. 1 feebly, "I'll tell you what to do."
The knife man nodded. Hawke went to stand in front of him.
"Help me take my jacket off," she started raising her arms.
Her jacket slid off her shoulders and was put on the ground.
"Now take off the bandages," she instructed, "And as soon as they're off, clean the wound and put this along the cut." She held the ointment over her shoulder.
Mr. 1 took it and lifted her shirt, exposing her back. Hawke crossed her arms in front of her chest, stopping her shirt from rising too far.
The bandages were loosened and Mr. 1 let them fall to the floor around her feet.
Hawke's body winced as he began washing her wound with the disinfectant. And again when he spread the salve over her skin. But Hawke only felt an uncomfortable stinging, though it was getting sharper with each passing moment.
"Are there any stitches?" she asked hesitantly.
Mr. 1 paused.
"No," he replied.
Hawke shivered.
"How wide is the wound?" she asked.
Daz held his hand out where she could see it, holding his thumb a fingers apart with a distance of about an inch between them.
Sheesh, Hawke thought, that Vice Admiral's blade must have been thick.
"Okay," she took a deep breath, "You're going to have to stitch me up then."
She went over to the first aid kit and took out the needle and thread.
"You can sew, I presume," she said.
Mr. 1 nodded.
"Okay," she handed him the supplies, "I'll lie on the bed."
She did as she said and M. 1 brought his chair over.
Hawke removed the pillow case and rolled it into a thick rod, then bit down hard on it.
I know I'll feel this, she thought as she felt herself becoming aware and conscious of her movements, even controlling them at some instances.
"Don't you want any anesthesia?" Mr. 1 asked.
Hawke clenched the blanket and spat the pillow case out of her mouth.
"See that bottle?" she pointed to the first aid kit. She had left the small green bottle leaning against the lid, "That's all the anesthetic you have. And Crocodile will need at least twice that much if he wants to be completely numb."
Crocodile turned and focused his gaze on her, but he remained silent.
"Whatever," Mr. 1 grunted.
Hawke returned the pillowcase to her mouth and gave him a thumbs up.
The pain that followed was definitely felt, in fact, it was blinding. Hawke almost suffocated herself with the pillow, but she welcomed it. She wasn't feeling the pain in her heart and she wasn't haunted by terrifying flashbacks. Her mind had no room for thinking about the past, present or future when it couldn't even focus on her surroundings. And through it all, she didn't make a sound, though the pillow was soaked through with tears by the end.
When it was finally over. Hawke spit out the pillow case and lay there panting heavily and retching emptily over the side of the bed.
Mr. 1 left to wash his hands and Hawke took this time to slowly sit up.
Her arms shook as she lifted herself and let her legs fall to the ground.
"That was unnecessary," Crocodile said sullenly.
Hawke looked up, wiping the sweat off her brow and chin.
"I'm much more suited to go without anesthesia," he continued.
Hawke noticed his eyes were a little clearer now, and his hard gaze chilled her. He looked angry.
She shook her head.
"I needed a distraction," she panted, "I couldn't…"
She wasn't able to finish her sentence. The memories were on the brink of returning. If she admitted any more, they would break free. She wasn't protected by her island of blankness any more, the world harassed her senses and she had to fight to keep it at bay.
Crocodile was still regarding her with a steady gaze.
Mr. 1 returned and moved the chair away from the bed. Hawke slowly stood and tested her stitches.
"They feel strong," she muttered, turning her back to the agent, "Now wrap me up again," she said, pointing to the roll of fresh bandages she'd taken out, "And make sure they're tight."
Mr. 1 did as she asked and soon Hawke felt much better, the pain was still there, but she felt supported and wasn't bleeding.
She then began treating the wounds that she had inflicted on Mr. 1.
"Sorry about these," she mumbled as she soaked up the blood with some cotton, "I don't know what came over me…"
Mr. 1 grunted and scooted the chair out into the room to give Hawke some space to move behind him.
She worked quickly but her progress was relatively slow. The cuts she had inflicted weren't very deep and they would heal by tomorrow, but there was also the injuries he had sustained during the battle from Mihawk and his other opponents.
When she had finally finished treating Mr. 1, she turned and pointed to the door.
"You're healthy enough," she said, "Now start sailing us towards Luffy."
The man eyed her before turning to Crocodile.
The Boss gave him a small nod.
Mr. 1 grunted and stalked out onto the deck.
Hawke followed and stood at the rail.
She could still feel a pulling sensation and took a moment to orient herself.
"That way," she pointed towards the horizon.
Mr. 1 had made it to the helm of the small craft and began steering the boat towards Hawke's pointing finger. She kept her arm raised until the bow of the boat lined up perfectly, turning her body as the boat turned.
"Just keep sailing straight that way," she called.
"Whatever, Shrimp," Mr. 1 muttered down to her.
"Shrimp?" Hawke raised her eyebrow at him, "That reminds me; I never asked. What's your real name?"
Mr. 1 stared down at her before rolling his eyes.
"Daz Bones," he replied, "I go by Daz."
Hawke nodded.
"Alright Daz," she said, "Don't leave that heading," then she turned and re-entered the cabin, ignoring the snappy retort thrown at her back.
Now that they were moving towards Luffy, Hawke felt a little more at ease. Though there was still an ocean of emotions swirling around in her chest. She closed the door and took a deep breath.
I'm on my way, Luffy, she thought, I hope you're okay…I don't know how I can tell where you are, but I'm sure that's what this feeling is.
"Taking a fancy to ordering my subordinate about?" Crocodile's taunt snapped her back to reality.
Hawke threw a glare in his direction and collected the supplies she would need from the green box.
"First things first," she said and drew the cover off Crocodile, "I'll need to get your shirt off."
The wound on his torso was deep and, though it had stopped bleeding, the blood was pooling in the fabric covering the cut and would cause an infection if left like that.
Crocodile began trying to raise himself, but Hawke put her hand on his chest.
"Don't move," she muttered, "You'll start the bleeding again. I'll cut it off."
Crocodile laid back down with a gloomy look on his face.
Hawke rolled her eyes and picked up some scissors. She quickly cut away the fabric and exposed the torn skin underneath.
"What happened?" she asked quietly, pausing, "At Marineford, I mean?"
As she spoke those words, visions of the battle flashed in front of her eyes and she clenched at the blanket, her shoulders shaking.
Crocodile watched and waited until she had relaxed a bit before replying.
"Strawhat escaped with the Heart pirates," he grunted, "That happened after you got clobbered over the head. Then the Red Haired pirates showed up and ended the war."
Hawke glanced up at him out of the corner of her eye.
Shanks showed up? She thought, well… at least Luffy got away.
"And why am I here?" she asked pressingly, resuming her work, "Why did you rescue me?"
There was a pause.
"I thought it would be a shame if you got captured by the marines again so soon after getting out of prison," Crocodile finally muttered, "It was on a whim, really."
Hawke stared down at her hands. She wasn't sure if he was telling her the entire truth, but she had to admit that she would've been captured if Crocodile hadn't taken her along.
She didn't reply and began busying herself with treating his wounds. Soaking up the pooled blood with a towel, she spread an anti-infection balm over the wound, and then retrieved the little green bottle.
"Here," she transferred the anesthetic into a syringe, "I'm going to put you under. There isn't enough here, but it should at least make your body numb."
Crocodile grunted in reply.
Hawke injected the contents of the needle into his arm and then sat back, waiting for it to take effect. She kept her eyes wandering around the room, analyzing every detail she could see. Keeping her brain busy was proving to be a challenge. Standing up, she returned to Crocodile's bedside and checked his fever. She saw his eyes were glazed over and he barely responded to her touch, his brow only wrinkling slightly.
Seems like this is as under as he's going to get, she thought.
Hawke then proceeded to stitch up the skin. She watched the man's face as she worked, taking his slight movements as she finished to mean that the anesthetic was already wearing off.
They need to replenish that, she thought as she put away the scissors and thread. She placed a bandage over the area and frowned, realizing that she did need Crocodile to sit up so she could get the bandage around his waist.
But he's still too out of it now, she saw a drowsy smile spread across the man's face as he watched her.
Hawke shivered.
"That's creepy," she muttered.
Thinking for a moment, Hawke went and stuck her head out of the door.
"Hey, Daz!" she called, "I need you're help."
There was a pause, then she heard footsteps coming down from the helm.
She opened the door wider as Daz entered.
"What do you want, Shrimp?" he asked, a hint of a taunt in his voice.
"Can you lift Crocodile up so I can get that bandage around him?" she asked, opting to ignore his teasing.
Daz shot her a look, but he nodded and went over and lifted Crocodile's upper body just enough for her to reach under.
The Boss maintained his smile throughout the procedure, his arms spreading slightly and his one hand grabbed onto Daz's arm to steady himself.
"Can't you steer this ship properly!?" the hooked man slurred his words as he glared blearily at Daz.
The first mate made no reply.
Hawke kept an eye on the wound, but it didn't look like it was reopening. She quickly pulled the bandage tight and then helped to lower Crocodile back down.
"That should be okay for now," she said.
Then she stiffened.
"We're going off course," she snapped and turned to Daz, her eyes flashing, "Hurry and correct it!"
"You don't give me orders, Shrimp!" he glared down at her.
Daz looked at Crocodile, but the latter had his eyes closed.
Letting out a huff and giving Hawke another glare, he made his way back out of the cabin.
Hawke stood still until she felt the pull at the bow of the boat once again. Then she turned her attention to the piece of wood.
"I'll need to take this out before it starts to poison your blood," she muttered, busying herself with his leg, "How long has it been in there?"
She noted that Crocodile was breathing harder than before.
"A day and a half," he panted.
Hawke looked up and saw that Crocodile's appearance had gotten worse in the few moments since she had last looked at him.
Uh oh, she thought, he's conscious enough to answer coherently.
"How are you feeling?" she asked worriedly, running to fetch a wet cloth, "It seems that anesthetic wasn't enough… and there's no more for this next part."
"Oh, fantastic," retorted her patient sarcastically.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly as she dabbed the cloth on his forehead.
She wiped his hair out of the way and pressed the back of her hand to it.
"Well you have a fever," she stated, "But it isn't too severe yet. Let's try and keep it that way."
She glanced down at Crocodile's face. His eyes were still closed and his breathing was still ragged. She noted his cheeks were flushing and more beads of sweat were appearing on his brow. She wiped them away with her cloth.
Inspite of the history between them, she felt a bit worried for the man.
"You're handling this pretty well," she said, leaving the cloth on his forehead and returning her attention to his wound, "As expected from one of the seven warlords, I guess."
"Ex-warlord," was the muttered response.
Hawke felt her lips twitch, recalling the adventure in the desert kingdom that seemed to have been so long ago.
"Yeah," she sighed, remembering Vivi and Carue and feeling her traumatic memories subside for the moment.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Crocodile opened his eyes at the sound of her sigh.
He looked at the girl sitting at the end of his bed. She was poking around the base of the piece of wood sticking through his leg.
He could feel the heat in his face and was grateful for the cool cloth she had put on his head.
This isn't quite according to my plan, he thought, then again, it was only pure luck that Akainu managed to land that last attack, the bastard.
He sighed, trying to ignore the pain that was pulsating all over his body.
This caught Hawke's attention and she glanced up at him.
Seeing his eyes open, the corners of her mouth turned upwards, but it wasn't quite a smile.
"Is that cloth helping?" she asked.
Crocodile decided that it would be best to humour her for now.
"Quite a lot," his voice came out strained, "Thank you."
She seemed startled at his words of thanks, but she nodded.
"You better close your eyes now," she said, "This needs to be done before the effect completely wears off."
He took a moment to process her words and gave her a quizzical glance. Then he saw her hand gripping the piece of wood.
"Wai-!" he started to object.
But before he could prepare himself, she yanked on the wood with all her might.
The anesthesia had all but worn off because Crocodile felt the piece move through his leg as it was removed. The feeling made him shudder and his mind reeled. If he hadn't been feverish, he would have been able to handle such a shock. But as it was, he promptly fell unconscious.
Damn brat, were his last thoughts.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Hawke finished wrapping Crocodile's leg and pulled the cover back up over him after giving his other wound another check.
"Well, I guess you'll be asleep for a while now," she muttered, switching the cloth on his head for a new one.
Hawke packed away most of the supplies, keeping a few rolls of bandages and some anti-septic ointment out for changing dressings.
She closed the lid with a snap, and as she did so, her stomach let out a growl.
"I'm starving," she grumbled.
If Crocodile was telling the truth, then it's been at least two days since I've eaten, she thought, two days since...
A jolt went through her body and she stumbled towards the door. Leaning heavily against the wood, Hawke felt sweat dripping down her forehead and she couldn't catch her breath. Dark shadows filled her vision and the iron scent of blood filled her nostrils.
"No!" Hawke gasped and groped for the door handle, pushing it open and stumbling out onto the deck.
She drew air into her lungs in great, heaving, gasps.
"Ace!" she cried, "Ace where are you! Luffy! We saved you, right?!"
Just face the truth! A voice in her head snapped at her, Ace is dead! And you need to get to Luffy! If this is how you're acting, then how do you think he's taking this!?
Hawke lunged for the rail and let out a long, drawn out, piercing scream.
"AAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!"
Her shoulders shook as she stood still, panting and whimpering. She felt tears rolling down her cheeks, from psychological or emotional pain, she didn't know.
There, the voice whispered, don't you feel better now?
"Hey," Daz's low voice suddenly spoke from behind her, "You alright?"
Hawke stiffened and turned, her mind cleared as she stared at the first mate. She slowly returned to reality and wiped her eyes.
"Um," she felt her shoulders sagging forward, "Yeah… yeah I'm fine."
Daz gave her a cold stare.
"And how's the Boss?" he muttered.
Hawke ran her hand through her hair.
"He's sleeping now," she sighed, "I've treated his wounds. He just needs rest and his bandages changed regularly."
Daz grunted and gave her a nod.
Hawke lifted an eyebrow as she felt the pulling sensation in her chest shift.
"We're going off course," she muttered, "Why don't you tie a rope on the wheel or something?"
Daz glared down at her and turned, leaving her at the rail.
Hawke lowered her face and rubbed her forehead. Her stomach let out another loud growl.
She still couldn't quite believe the situation she now found herself in. But she was still reeling from witnessing Ace's death and her overwhelming desire to be with Luffy. It was all she could do to just go along for the ride until she could take the time to register everything.
She turned and noticed a door a little to the right of the bedroom. She went over and pushed it open, revealing a room with a small table, a sink and a two burner stove.
"Here we are," she muttered and proceeded to rummage through the cupboards.
Her body was moving on its own again, performing her actions from memory. Her mind was somewhere else, far away, somewhere she didn't know.
Cooking did, however, provide a temporary distraction and, after raiding the cupboards, she threw herself into making a huge pot of chili.
Soon there was a delicious smell filling the small kitchen and flowing out to the deck.
Hawke was in the middle of adding the last peppers to the pot when the door sprung open.
"What are you doing, Shrimp?" she heard Daz's voice snap.
The aggressiveness in his voice rubbed her the wrong way, yanking at her already frayed mind.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" she snapped right back.
Then she sighed. She didn't know how long she was going to be sailing with these men, so she should at least be on non-aggressive terms with them.
"Look" she said, turning to face him, "I'm sorry I've been bossy and that I cut you up. But I'm exhausted, wounded, on the verge of a break down and hungry and all I want to do is get to my brother, so can't we get along for now?"
Daz was still standing in the doorway, his arms were crossed over his bandaged chest and he was frowning at her.
I'm fighting a lost cause, she thought, dropping her spoon to her side.
But to her surprise, the man lowered his arms and shrugged.
"I suppose it would be better if we cooperated," he said and sat down at the table.
Hawke stared. She felt like she would have smiled in this situation, but couldn't bring her lips upwards.
"Great," she said, turning back to the stove, "You came just in time."
She quickly dished out two bowls of chili and sat down across from Daz.
He looked into his bowl, had a taste, then quickly devoured the entire thing and began helping himself to seconds.
Hawke let out a small, forced, awkward, laugh.
"If you were that hungry you should have said something," she said, polishing off her own bowl and waving it out to him.
Daz took it and filled it before returning to his place at the table.
"You know," he muttered, "For just being a scout, you're pretty handy."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Hawke muttered.
Daz gave her a stare, but this one didn't seem as hostile as his previous glares.
"I told the Boss way back then that we should have kept you," he said between bites.
Hawke lowered her spoon.
"Back then?" she asked hesitantly.
Daz looked at her warily, but continued to explain.
"Back when we were Baroque Works and were about to realize the Boss's Operation Utopia."
Hawke tried to conceal her shudder, but Daz caught it.
He leaned back in his chair.
"I had a lot of time to think while in Impel Down," he said, "And at one point or another, I recalled a particular captive and what she was forced to do for our entertainment."
Hawke stared at him from across the table.
"And I regret having participated in that," he muttered and gave her a stare, his hand going back to his spoon.
Hawke was silent for a few drawn out moments, her mind going back to the time she'd spent in Crocodile's casino.
"Apology accepted," she stated finally and started on her chili again.
She still had unpleasant memories about being Crocodile's captive, but she had long since moved on. And right now she had other things to worry about.
Daz lowered his eyes and seemed lost in thought.
Hawke finished her meal and stood. She froze and seemed to zone out for a second.
"We're going off course again," she snapped, suddenly coming back to life.
Daz rolled his eyes and stood, handing her his bowl.
"Yeah, Shrimp," he said as he opened the door and went out.
Hawke felt her lips twitch and turned to put the dishes in the sink.
"I should make a soup for Crocodile," she muttered, "He won't be able to stomach something as rich as chili just yet."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Hawke peeked around the door and into the room.
Crocodile was lying quietly in his bed, still asleep.
She entered softly and placed a thermos of soup on the table next to his bed.
After freeing her hands, she checked his fever and wounds again.
The fever had gone down a little bit and there was no stain showing through the bandages.
Good, she thought, his blood has decided to stay in his body.
Blood… all of the blood, spilling out of the hole in Ace's back, covering Luffy's hands as he held his brother.
Hawke felt her knees give out as she collapsed onto the floor. Her throat seemed to constrict and she struggled to draw her breath.
Her hands shook as she fell sideways and lay on the floor gasping.
"Ace…" her voice cracked as she saw her brothers bloody figures rise in front of her, "Luffy… no…"
Tears were flowing freely down her face and the smell of vomit washed over her. She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle the sobs as they wracked her body. Her other hand clutching at her chest. There was an aching pain in her heart, it felt like there was a spike slowly being pushed through her body. The room whirled around her and she closed her eyes, trying to hide from the terror and the despair that loomed up inside of her.
"Ace is gone!" she whimpered as she curled into a ball, "He's gone… I never got to know him…"
She let out a low groan as she rolled over, trying to get the ache out of her chest.
She could see Ace's body as it fell towards the ground… as it fell out of Luffy's arms… Luffy.
Luffy knew Ace… Luffy loved Ace… his pain would be ten times greater than hers was…
This realization drove the spike straight through her heart and she cried out. Luffy was suffering immensely right now! The thought finally rang home in her brain.
She felt a sudden weight press onto her shoulder and was snapped out of her misery, opening her eyes.
Hawke was back in the little room again, the sound of waves and the creaking of wood was all she heard. Raising her head, she looked up and saw Crocodile's hand resting on her shoulder.
Stiffening, she quickly rolled out of his reach and jumped up. Losing her balance as the ship rocked, she fell back onto the other bed.
She stared across at the man laying in front of her, gasping and trying to catch her breath and slow her hammering heart.
But Crocodile didn't seem to be awake. His eyes were closed and his breathing was slow and regular. His hand stayed down where it had fallen.
Hawke rested her head in her hands and leaned forward, taking slow, deep breaths.
"What you need to do is get to Luffy," she told herself shakily, "He's hurting even more than you are. Shame on you!"
She clenched her fists and stood.
"Get to Luffy!" she ordered herself, her voice becoming more leveled, "Then you can take time for yourself!"
Hawke quickly busied herself with cleaning up the mess she'd made.
She returned Crocodile's arm onto the mattress and switched the cloth on his forehead for a new, cooler one before stripping the blanket off the other bed and piling it on the floor.
"I'd better get that stain out before it becomes permanent," she muttered, her cleaning habit coming through, "And I've got to clean that floor… right, I threw up all over there… how could I forget that I did that?"
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Updates will continue to be slow for a while (sorry :( ) I'm still trying to figure out parts of my plot
