Listen while reading:
"Look at the stars,
Look how they shine for you.
And everything you do,
Yeah they were all Yellow."
Coldplay- Yellow.
Natasha didn't mean to this time. No, like... she really didn't mean to. She was at the top of the stairs and she turned around and smacked her arm out to pin Doflamingo to the wall, but it hadn't worked that way. Neither of them had seen the nail sticking precariously out of the wall behind him from where one of his dumb, young underlings had failed to realise he didn't know how to use a hammer correctly.
It went through his skull due to the force she'd used to push him back, and his face slackened into one of loose surprise, his limbs failing to hold him up. His whole weight was balanced on that nail. Eventually, he bested the nail, for his weight became too much and the nail bent under the pressure. His head slid free of the nail, slumping against the wall. He wasn't quite dead yet, His eyes looked up to her, pleading, begging, praying that she ended his suffering. She couldn't stand to see this- his blood slipping away as his life left. She ran back down to the basement and grabbed a blister syringe with morphine in it. On second thought, she grabbed another. She gave him the first, the flipped him, pulling out her emergency medical kit. The second she touched the back of his scalp, however, he began writhing. Yeah, she halfway hated him, but goddamn it she didn't need any more blood on her hands. As a doctor it was natural, but this? This was manslaughter. She didn't mean to kill him, but that didn't matter. He'd died and she'd have to square up and face the music. And by the way, when she said music, she really meant a chainsaw and a shovel that she was going to use to deal with.. this mess. In a way, this was almost kinder than dragging his life out. She gave him the second blister. It was far over the lethal dose, to give him two. He died in a drug-induced fantasy. She said a little prayer. Not for him, but for herself. Prayed that she'd never have to end a life on purpose again.
She sighed, but got on with what she had to. She wrapped some plastic wrap from the basement around his head, mindful to avoid his face. She removed his glasses, hesitating briefly before putting them over her own eyes. They were just reading glasses, it seemed- she kept them on anyways- the pointed pink lenses gave her more focus. The wrap stopped blood trailing. On second thought, Natasha removed the wrap and instead sewed the dead man's head up with found fishing wire and her favourite curved needle. She then stuck a bandage gauze over that with a layer of sticking plaster to hold the gauze on.
She felt like a bastardized doctor, now- a murderer posing as a saviour. She supposed that Law wasn't so different in some respects though- a heart surgeon who'd rather collect them than fix them. She wondered what fascinated him so about the muscle.
She hauled Doflamingo's corpse over her shoulder- not before flicking the glasses to the peak of her forehead to keep her hair back and mopping up all the evidence that she'd even been there.
It was hard- she'd almost broken down half way though. Her chest had seized and she'd gasped, choking.
She was going to be sent to Impel Down. If Whitebeard sacrificed his life for Ace yet Ace still didn't live, what made her think that anyone else could save her? She steeled her resolve with a smack to the face with Doflamingo's quickly stiffening hand. His rigor mortis was oddly quick, only a few minutes, due to the blistering heat in the basement. Everyone was gone from the island, conveniently enough- they'd been ordered to plunder a little bit by their dead captain- the dead captain slung over her back. She just groaned and lugged his body up the stairs.
When she reached ground level, she kicked a door open, due to no free arms, and froze under the weight of several gazes. She dropped Doflamingo's body in favour of throwing her arms up and blurting out, "It's not what it looks like!"
One of the gazes slowly let out, "It looks like you've killed Donquixote Doflamino and you're moving his body."
Natasha blinked once, twice, thrice.
"...It's what it looks like."
The gaze, discovered to be Red Haired Shanks just blinked in confusion and watched as the girl changed her body-moving position to dragging the massive man by his ankles. She struggled a little but instead just unclipped the weight from her left wrist and used that to pull him along. She apparently found that much easier because it looked like no strain afterwards.
Mihawk looked at Shanks in confusion. They didn't often agree on something, but apparently their confusion overwhelmed Mihawk's played-up dislike of Shanks.
"...So where are we taking the body," Shanks asked, watching as she pushed Doflamingo down the set of stone steps to that she could walk down them without a body on her heels.
"To cut it up really small then bury it in different places so the body is impossible to find," she told them quite simply enough.
The six people around her didn't seem to know what to think. The biggest, Big Mom, seemed contemplative. In fact, if Natasha didn't know better, she was pretty sure that the woman looked positively hungry. Shanks, who seemed concerned yet amused, was walking alongside Jinbe, who had Boa Hancock behind him.
Next to Hancock was Mihawk, and honestly? His eyes really weren't as unsettling as they were posed to be. Just behind him, Gekko Moria seemed to be getting paler under his already stark white skin, which was an odd thought but he began turning blue after he hit a blinding shade of white. Next to Moria, was Natasha, pulling along a corpse that was pretty quickly developing road rash from his dreadful means of transport. She looked to Mihawk.
"Mind lending me a hand?"