Moonlight beams through the window of the dark room, glinting off of the sweat that has begun to form on Paulie's temple. He's been fumbling on the floor for far too long in search of the hidden panel Iceburg informed him of and he's no closer to finding it. His mentor told him where it is— Paulie knows he did—but it's becoming harder and harder to recall it when his other words are fighting for attention in the forefront of his mind.
"Paulie, when you find the blueprints, I want you to leave them and run. I'm sorry to put you in harm's way, but I trust you to handle this."
What the hell was Iceburg thinking, the foreman seethes to himself, asking him to run away? Those damn Strawhats are still out to get him and he wants Paulie to tuck tail and run? He's a Galley La foreman, having handled rowdy pirates for a majority of his career, and Iceburg doesn't think he can take on a measly crew of seven?! Whatever these blueprints are, they must be important enough for Iceburg to hide them away like this, so there's no way Paulie is going to leave them behind!
Through his absentminded grumbling, the foreman's fingers find an almost imperceivable lip in the floorboards, something a self respecting shipwright like Iceburg would never allow in his own office. With a twitch of his brow, Paulie digs his fingers beneath the wood and pulls, prying away a few halfhearted sets of nails to reveal a safe that no doubt holds the sole reason for all of this ruckus. It makes his concentration stutter for a moment as he struggles to recall the combination his mentor had provided him, each conflicting memory fighting against each other in an uphill battle to remain on the surface.
"Move the desk."
No.
"I put my faith in you."
No...
"Under the rug."
No!
"You need to run."
Damn it! Come on!
"Six to the right…"
...
"You're a good man."
Wait, wait, wait!
"Jackpot," he mutters to himself as he begins twisting the knob, a smirk playing against his lips as the safe opens with a satisfying click that vibrates through the tips of his fingers.
There in all of its glory lies the bundled up stack of papers that Iceburg is risking his life for. They look so unassuming, neatly assembled and tucked away as if it's just another stack of paperwork that found its way to Iceburg's desk, but Paulie knows better. With trembling hands, the foreman reaches into the case and brings the rolled up papers into his lap, turning them around in his palms as if all of his questions would be answered by just staring at them hard enough. The old blueprints are yellowed with age and flake at the edges, making them look delicate despite the destruction they've brought upon the island—upon their beloved mayor.
Curious eyes wander to the straps holding the papers closed and his hands unconsciously follow, gently digging an index finger beneath the rubber bands before the creak of the door brings him staggering back to reality with the intensity of a bucket of ice water. He jerks his attention to the entrance and holds his breath as the light from the hallway slowly begins to creep along the hardwood floor. With a fresh sense of urgency, Paulie quickly cradles the blueprints to his chest in one arm while preparing the other, adjusting the ropes beneath his sleeves so they can emerge at a moment's notice.
Tension crawls up his spine like molasses and settles heavy against his shoulders as the door fully opens, revealing a lone silhouette painted by the golden glow of candlelight on the other side. His eyes slowly adjust to the sudden change in lighting and as they do, his quickening pulse begins to subside. Standing beneath the door frame is none other than Rob Lucci, Paulie's fellow foreman and close friend.
He belatedly notices an ache in his chest and forces himself to breathe, damn it! He's never been the nervous type, so what's gotten into him now? Hopefully Lucci didn't see his moment of weakness—Paulie would never live it down! Speaking of the bird brained jackass, he's not supposed to be here! With a low growl emanating deep within his throat, he throws an accusing glare at his comrade.
"The hell are you doing here?! Why aren't you guarding Iceburg with the others?" He barks out, a frown etching itself on his lips and settling in the wrinkles between his brows.
Silence is all that answers for a few staggering moments, leaving Paulie to bite his lip in anticipation and wait. Lucci and his pigeon wear a matching set of sharp eyes that level on him and tear into his confidence with a ferocity that the foreman doesn't recognize—completely contrasting against the relaxed posture the rest of his body portrays. Everything about the shipwright is contradicting with each other and Paulie is struggling to make sense of it.
Lucci takes a step into the room and closes the door behind him without breaking eye contact, that ferocious gaze leaving him frozen where he sits. The lock clicks into place with a finality that rings louder than the battle cries of his fellow shipwrights just beyond the walls. He swallows hard, throat suddenly sticky with anxiety as he unconsciously leans away, back coming to rest on the wooden desk. Something isn't right here, Paulie thinks, what the hell is going on? He tries to speak his concerns, but all that comes out is a few confused syllables that painfully scratch their way up his throat. He's never found it hard to bitch at Lucci before, so what's changed? Is it the stifling atmosphere that has settled like a particularly ragged and itchy blanket or is it the twitch of condescending amusement playing on the dark haired man's lips.
"So they've been right under our noses all along," Lucci finally says in lieu of an answer, but it's different from the other times they've spoken and brings a frustrated flush to his face.
It's confusing and not what Paulie wants to hear as he finally manages to come to his senses. One moment he's leaning away from the imposing figure and the next he's standing up, tongue searching his lips for a much needed cigar that isn't there. The earthy taste of tobacco would really help with the tension that's beginning to return with the force of an angry King Bull. Hand tightening around the blueprints, Paulie takes a bold step forward and feels his lips twitching down in a familiar snarl that only Lucci has ever been able to bring out.
"Y-You're talking! I thought you were too shy to talk without that stupid bird! What's gotten into you?!," he growls out, although his priorities quickly drown out his confusion, "Whatever, just- You should be out there doing your job, damn it! Quit slacking off and go guard the door with the others!"
Lucci doesn't rise to the bait as he normally does. Nothing about Lucci is reminiscent of their past encounters and Paulie still can't seem to piece the picture together. It's almost like Paulie is talking to a different person- hell, maybe he is! The foreman always spoke through his stupid looking bird, but now he stands before Paulie like a new man, looking at him like a predator instead of an ally.
"Iceburg was a fool to bring you into all of this," Lucci tacks on, completely ignoring Paulie's frantic ramblings in favor of straightening his suit, "By sending you here, he has sentenced you to death."
"What?" Paulie blurts out lamely because this isn't right. Why is Lucci talking down at him like he's incapable? Lucci has thrown empty threats at him in the past, but there's too much confidence here—too much hostility. Not to mention the slight on their mentor's intelligence.
Frankly, it pisses Paulie off to the point he takes another step forward, eyes alight with indignation at the thought of someone calling Iceburg, of all people, a fool. There's no cigar in his mouth but he swears he can feel the smoke billowing out of his mouth and nostrils as he stares down at Lucci with a blazing fury that has never failed to send even the most arrogant and brazen of pirates running back to their ships.
But Lucci is no pirate.
Eyes locked with Paulie's, the other foreman takes a matching step closer, leveling the playing field and bringing the two of them nearly chest to chest. Paulie's heavy breathing intermingles with Lucci's calm exhale and it leaves the air between them blistering hot and filled with a weight that's too heavy to be anything physical. There's too many emotions bubbling in the space around them and it doesn't take long for one of them to finally snap and cause everything to boil over.
Lucci's eyes narrow and Paulie swears he sees all of the edges in the taller man's features sharpen. He's raising his hand, cutting the thick layer of tension between them like one of the Pirate Hunter's precious swords and presses a pointed finger into Paulie's chest. The touch is so unexpectedly gentle that it makes the foreman flinch and his face flush. The blue waters of Paulie's eyes dampen the angry spark they held before, morphing into confusion as he cocks his head down to look at the offending appendage.
The other foreman whispers his next words like a sin in church. It falls between his lips like silk, but hardens with a twinge of guilt at the very end. The sound is like a nice glass of whiskey, intoxicating Paulie with its smooth texture before the cinnamon bites at his tongue and burns his body from the inside out.
"Finger Pistol."
And just like that, the satisfying fire that Lucci's voice sparked crescendos into a rampaging blaze that hurts. Pain sings it's startling tune throughout his torso and leaks from his mouth and chest in a steady stream of red. His mind isn't given enough time to process the action before the force of Lucci's attack sends Paulie staggering back, the weight between them splintering like the ribs beneath the other foreman's finger.
There's a new stickiness in the back of Paulie's throat and he gags, sending a few specks of crimson spattering along a pale cheekbone. Briefly, the foreman can't help but notice how the blood brings out the rich cedar wood brown in Lucci's eyes. It's a morbid thought, but there's a certain beauty to the violentness of it that Paulie can't quite shake.
He almost doesn't notice the second finger aimed right at his neck and it's all he can do to dodge it. A few strands of dirty blond flutter in the space between them, tickling his shoulder as they float to the ground like dead, brittle leaves in the fall. Another silence echoes loudly in the air as they both stand just as they are, deadly finger poised in the air and scruffy jaw hanging open in shock.
"You…" Paulie begins, voice barely above a whisper, "You tried to kill me. You actually tried to kill me, you bastard!"
Lucci is the first to move, simply straightening his tie and wiping the blood off of his finger, "Yes, that is my job, after all."
The foreman watches the man's movements like a cornered animal, bloody teeth bared and pupils dilated in what can only be described as fear. Which is such a silly thought, isn't it? Paulie being scared of Lucci. His pride and confidence has never allowed for it in the past, but then again, the other has never made such a blatant attempt on his life.
"You see, I'm actually a government agent," he continues, the pigeon by his side offering a squawk of confirmation, "We were sent here five years ago to obtain the documents you hold in your trembling hands."
There's a subtle twitch in Lucci's posture and it's all the warning Paulie gets before he's forced to side step another pointed finger, stumbling as the action sends a jolt through his bleeding chest. Like a bullet, the appendage cuts through the air, the blow clearly aimed for his head and that's enough to finally stir Paulie into action.
"Bowline Knot!" He exclaims, sending a coil of rope aimed for the other man's wrist. If he can just get the bastard to stand still, maybe he can knock some sense into him!
The line soars through the air like a serpent, curling and twisting to Paulie's will, but it strikes at empty air. There's a flash of movement flickering in his peripherals, dancing along his vision like a ghost before it disappears altogether and a foot connects with his back. With all of the strength of ten men, Paulie flies forward, a strangled shout forcing its way from his throat as he collides with the floor in a pained heap. The sheer speed of the kick turns the air into its own weapon as the walls around them crack and crumble in a perfect line, shattering the windows to allow for the sounds of battle raging below to filter in unhindered.
"You jackass! Cut it out!" Paulie cries out, rolling onto his back so he could shoot another line of rope hurtling towards the other man.
There's another flicker of movement as his ropes collide with the opposite wall and Lucci appears again, seeming to hover in the air before his feet stomp down on each of his arms, effectively pinning them. He lets out a hiss of frustration that goes unheard as the dark haired asshole leans down in a comfortable crouch, mocking him without having to say a word.
"Get off of me! This shit isn't funny, you bird brained bastard!" He tries again, but Lucci merely cocks his head and allows for an amused smile to grace his lips.
"You're right, this isn't funny. What's funny is that Iceburg thought he stood a chance against the world government. Now he's going to die and the blame will fall onto the Strawhats. Pirates can be so merciless, can't they?"
"Shut up! Damn it, just shut up! If what you're saying is true, then the others won't let you lay a finger on him!"
The smile widens, but there's something about it that seems forced as Lucci grinds his feet into Paulie's joints, "Oh, do you mean Kaku? Or maybe Kalifa? I don't think you understand what's going on quite yet. Should I give you a moment to think or do you think you can figure it out?"
A beat passes. Then another. And all Paulie can do is try to mask his horror as he replays their conversation in his head.
"We were sent here five years ago to obtain the documents you hold in your trembling hands."
He can't be saying what Paulie thinks he's saying, right? They've all known each other for a long time and they've never shown even a hint of hostility towards Iceburg. They've worked together, ate together, fought together, and Lucci expects him to believe that it was all a lie? The people he called his closest friends and allies are abusing his trust to get what he still holds clutched in his right hand?
His teeth gnash together in a snarl as he raises his head up as far as their position would allow, voice accusatory as he levels Lucci with a sinister glare, "Why? Why tell me all of this? What's the point?!"
"Because it won't matter anymore once you're dead."
A hard pressure buries itself into his chest and Paulie's thoughts stutter at the feel of Lucci's fingernail digging into the flesh just above his heart. His pulse quickens and there's no doubt in the foreman's mind that Lucci can feel it—can feel every beat of Paulie's heart beneath his hand. All the bastard has to do is push and the blonde will be no more. His raging blue orbs will go pale and dull. The frantic heave of his chest will taper off until it falls still. The pretty red of his lifeblood will pour out from the wound until there's nothing left but a corpse—an empty vessel whose soul has been stolen too soon.
Lucci's determination visibly falters, his finger that held so much intent now weak and trembling against the bloodied fabric of Paulie's shirt. Now the other man's breathing becomes just as labored as his own as he raises his free hand to press against his temple. It's a stark contrast from the cold, detached determination he was displaying before and Paulie puffs his chest in defiance—urges the bastard to do it, already!
"Damn it… I'll figure out what to do with you later. I don't have time for this," he curses, voice sputtering and nearly soundless. He sounds angry with himself, a feeling that Paulie finds himself relating to in this moment.
Still balanced painfully on the foreman's forearms, Lucci shuffles around in his coat for a moment, teeth grinding themselves down in frustration until he pulls out a set of metal rings. They almost look like something they'd use on a ship, oddly enough. Despite the danger of the situation, Paulie can't help but think that they'd make good ladder prongs. A question bubbles in his throat, but it's quickly answered when one of the rings finds itself embedded into the floorboards right around Paulie's neck. The arms come next and the foreman finally manages to break himself from his shock in order to struggle.
He kicks his legs as high as they can go, aiming to strike at Lucci's neck, but they fall too short, landing uselessly back on the ground with a defeated thud. Paulie isn't nearly flexible enough to pull off a stunt like that and he doesn't doubt that Lucci has somehow planned for that. After all, Lucci knows how he fights—knows his strengths and weaknesses and how to push his buttons in all of the right ways. Once the idea of having an adversary know him so intimately was exhilarating, but now it only brings a deep ache in his chest that can only be described as betrayal.
It doesn't take long for the bastard to finish pinning Paulie down and the foreman can't recall another time where he's felt so helpless and vulnerable. He can't even move his head enough to properly glare at Lucci, so he musters up as much heat and anger as he can and settles with a side glance that tells more that Paulie could possibly hope to say out loud.
The dark haired man averts his eyes, which Paulie thinks is uncharacteristic of him, but it's becoming harder to tell seeing as though he never knew the real Lucci in the first place. It seems that Paulie is still trying to grasp the reality of it all, but he isn't given much time to do so as Lucci snatches away the blueprints and picks himself up from the ground. He dusts off his clothing, casting Paulie one last miserable look before turning his back, "I'm sorry it had to be this way."
Footsteps begin to make their way towards the door and his chest begins to burn. Each step tugs at an invisible string in his chest, the increasing distance causing something within him to hollow out. It's cold and empty and it feels like Lucci has stolen a vital part of his soul.
"Don't you dare leave me here, you bastard!" He calls out, wrists jerking against the binds, "Get these things off of me and fight me like a man!"
The footsteps don't falter as the sound of the lock clicking out of place echoes far louder than it should have in the dark room. Paulie's movements become even more frantic as he fights through the pain of his wounds and pushes against the metal rings keeping him to the floor. He doesn't know what it is Lucci took from him, but he knows that if he lets that man leave this room, it will be gone forever. Paulie will forever be stranded in the vast, cold emptiness lingering in his heart.
"Rob Lucci, get your ass back here right now, damn it! Don't you dare leave! I'll kill you, you hear me?! I'll kill you!"
The knob twists and the hinges creak as the door is pulled open, the light of the hall stretching across the floor like a beacon, but it's unable to reach Paulie's eyes. They sting with unshed tears and his vision blurs, but he refuses to let a single drop fall. Lucci is a traitor. They're all traitors. They don't deserve Paulie's tears. They don't deserve the honor of seeing Paulie at his most vulnerable. He only trusts his friends with his weakness.
"At least finish what you started, you coward! Kill me! Finish the fucking job!"
The footsteps leave the room and the door shuts with a finality that finally breaks him. A warm tear escapes the blockade he desperately tried to keep up, but once the first one manages to break through, the rest begin to fall down his cheeks in steady rivers as Paulie screams. He screams at his former friends for betraying him. He screams at Iceburg for dropping his guard. He screams at any higher power that might be listening.
But most of all, he screams at Lucci.
He screams at Lucci because he took the one thing Paulie reserved for him and severed it.
Hello, everyone! I hope you enjoyed the oneshot! I happen to be opening commissions right now, so if anyone is interested, please check out my AO3 account! The details will be listed there.