Let Me Down Slow
Summary: Roger was freedom, a dream, something to chase. And so, he did. Two-shot look at if Garp and Roger were lovers.
Chapter 1: Roger
The plaza is loud, so damn loud. Garp stands behind the crowd, in the shadow between two tall buildings. Despite the distance, he could see the execution platform clearly. The wood and metal rising above all, a crude monument to justice. He hadn't been to Logue Town in years, and he wished it had stayed that way. But he would be here. At the end.
"Oi! You! Get back here!" he yelled, jumping off the roof of the building as a man in a straw hat dined and dashed from the restaurant below. Garp hit the ground a little awkwardly, but managed to stay on his feet, tearing off after the idiot. On and on he chased him, down alleyways, across rooftops, through living rooms and clotheslines, down the docks. Until all of a sudden the bastard turned around and skidded to a stop at the top of a hill overlooking the whole of Logue Town. The sunset was near blinding, vivid orange and shimmering gold. Garp nearly crashed into him, breathing heavily and glaring at the slightly shorter man just a foot in front of him. "You're pretty good! I haven't had someone keep up with me like this before! You wanna join my crew?"
And then he smiled, so bright it made everything else fade .
There was a sudden and yet slow hushing of the crowd and Garp's breath caught as he turned, eyes locking onto a figure being walked towards the platform, shackled and guarded.
Roger.
"Hey Garp! It's been a while! I'll buy you a drink!" Roger laughed as he took the seat next to him at the bar. Garp should have said no, but curiosity has always been his weakness.
"Garp! You look well!" Roger grinned at him from the other end of the alleyway. The moonlight caught his eyes and Garp knew he should have been the one running, but he never could run from a challenge.
"Until next time Garp!" he grinned, his face far too near. His smile too warm. And Garp's hands too sweaty. But how could he have run from the embodiment of freedom?
The silence from such a huge crowd was deafening, but maybe that was just because he was drowning out all other sound with his own harsh breathing. As the Pirate King approached, time seemed to slow down. Garp took in Roger's appearance. His strong shoulders, his head held high. He knew this wouldn't be easy, but Garp had made his choice. Now all he could do was bear witness.
He met her on a sunny day in a field of sunflowers. Her sun hat was bright red and her eyes sparkled with laughter. Garp smiled back at her.
Roger kept his eyes focused on the path in front of him, one foot in front of the other, the platform looming ever closer. And Garp was thankful he wasn't searching the crowd, wasn't looking for him.
The clouds overhead rumbled ominously as Roger approached. They were alone on the beach, the only light from the lightning strikes in the distance over the ocean. "So you're getting married huh Garp?" he asked. There was something in his voice that made Garp swallow. He held his ground, looking into Roger's eyes. "Yeah, and?" he wanted it to come out as a growl, but it came out almost breathless.
Roger was too close, he could smell the salt on his skin, the alcohol and cigar smoke on his lips. He smiled, a flash of lightning illuminating his teeth. There was something hungry, almost desperate in his eyes. The wind picked up, the air around them getting colder but doing the opposite between them. "That's fine," he murmured, his fingers reaching out and grasping Garp's collar. His skin was hot to the touch. "As long as you keep chasing me," he whispered, pressing his warm lips against his own as the clouds above let go of their heavy burden, swallowing them up.
He spoke too soon as Roger began to look from side to side, taking in the crowd. Looking for him. Garp almost called out. Almost. But what good would it do for either of them? He clenched his fist, willing them to stop trembling.
They met in the dark, behind the bar, every bar, any bar, his hands everywhere, his laughter making Garp's head spin. The highs so high, the fall so inevitable. He never felt so free as then.
Slowly Roger was brought towards the platform, the crowd whispering in his wake, excitement buzzing in the air like razor blades. Each one sharp and cutting, a chasm opening up inside Garp's chest.
"God dammit Garp! Come home! I need you here!" her voice was agony over the den den mushi, guilt clawing at him. He knew he should be there, but he couldn't stay, not when all he could see was Roger when he closed his eyes. But it was a false freedom, and he knew it.
Up the stairs, the sound of each step somehow reverberating throughout the plaza. The sound of history being made. And Garp hated it. Had never hated anything more. Except himself.
Under the jungle trees in the hot sun, Roger leaned against him, their fingers intertwining. He knew he should pull away, stay away. This could only end in heartbreak. But still, he stayed.
They reached the top, Roger high above them all, a king overlooking his kingdom, the place where it all started for him. For them.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, as she passed him. Their house was practically empty without her in it. She stopped for a moment, the laughter long gone from her eyes as she turned to look towards him. "It won't end well Garp," she said, and he hated that there was no hatred in her voice for him, only a note of warning as if he didn't already know.
Roger sat carefully, not kneeling, never kneeling, and Garp loved him for it.
The party after God Valley was the happiest he'd ever been as Roger crushed his lips to his, their crews reveling in making it through unbeatable odds. Maybe they weren't doomed. Maybe there was hope.
The world spun around him as men in uniform, the symbol he represented, filed in behind Roger. Blocking his escape, though Garp knew he wouldn't leave, and who was he to argue with the Pirate King's choice? He bit his lip, hard.
"I'm going to sail to the ends of the world, Garp," Roger said softly into his chest. The ship swayed slowly below them, the waters of East Blue so calm in comparison to the Grand Line. Garp felt his heart stop. "Why?" he asked. There was no reason, Roger had everything he wanted. He was powerful, hardly anyone could fight him now, he was almost as free as one could be. A strange look crossed Roger's face, a shadow in his eyes that Garp had never seen before. He stared at Garp, running the back of his hand down his cheek, opening his mouth, but then...he hesitated, something Garp had never seen him do. A moment passed, before Roger found his voice again. "Come with me," he hadn't asked since the first day they'd met.
For a moment, he considered it. What could it be like? To sail with him? To wake in his arms every day? To hear his voice every day? Sengoku, Tsuru, Kuzan, Dragon flashed through his head, the guilt ripping at him. "You know I can't do that," he said. Roger smiled at him and settled back against his chest, but never answered Garp's question.
In the morning, he was gone.
The executioners took their positions on either side of him. Every second took an eon, each breath into his lungs excruciating, but the thought that it would all be over soon was worse.
The day the Navy pronounced him Pirate King, Garp set out to warn him. The entirety of the World Government wanted his head now, and Garp couldn't keep all of them away from him any more. And so he chased him, as he always did. Across the New World, across the Grand Line, across the South Blue. But Roger kept running. Running and running, and never stopping. Not once, not when Garp pleaded with him to talk on the docks below his ship, not when Garp diverted other Navy ships with false information to let them escape, not when Garp cornered him on the edge of a cliff, wanting to find a way for him to disappear. To escape. So that they could be free. So that the end wouldn't come crashing down around them like he'd always known it would.
The crowd held its breath as Roger's crimes began to be announced aloud. Anger flared into life inside the chasm in Garp's chest as they left out the good things Roger had done. He expected it, but that didn't make it less painful. Less wrong. Less like they were erasing the man he loved.
It didn't make sense! Why would Roger turn himself in?! Garp didn't understand. He marched down the stairs, taking them two at a time, down, down, down till he reached the holding cells. He shook with anger. What the fuck was the idiot thinking?! He came to a stop outside his cell, furious that his heart still skipped a beat as Roger looked up at him. A smile spread across the stupid asshole's face. "It's good to see you Garp." Garp glared. "I suppose I deserve that," Roger laughed, but it was hollow. "What the fuck are you doing Roger?!" Garp snarled. He knew the bastard was strong enough to break out of here, if not on his own, then with his crew.
The smile slipped off his face and he sighed for a moment, before getting up and approached the bars to stand face to face with him. Garp's eyes narrowed. The idiot was moving strange, like it took far more effort than it should to approach him. "There's a woman...on an island, Baterilla, in the South Blue..." Roger trailed off for a moment, a strange look in his eyes. "She's going to have my child," he said. Garp stared. Pain lanced through his chest, but it wasn't like Roger had ever fully belonged to him, it wasn't like he didn't have his own son, his own life beyond the man before him. But still it hurt, as the sound of the angry ocean waves below the cliff echoed in his ears, the last time they had met and Roger had run from him. So different from the first time.
Roger looked out at the crowd, a grin forming on his face as someone shouted at him, demanding to know where his treasure was. Garp's breath caught in his throat as Roger's eyes hunted through the crowd. Searching. Still he did not call out.
"Protect my child, Garp, they should not pay for the sins of their father," Roger's face was close now. Anger, hot and unbearable surged through him. How dare he- "Look after them yourself!" he snarled. Roger laughed but it was almost bitter. A laugh Garp had never heard before. "I can't," he smiled gently. "The fuck do you mean you can't?!" Garp growled. Roger moved his hands as if he wanted to reach for him, but the wooden shackles got in the way.
"I'm dying, Garp," he said softly. Garp blinked, the quiet of the holding cells sounding too loud in his ears. "W-what?" he breathed, confused. He had to be kidding. Roger looked down at the floor, then back up to meet Garp's eyes. He almost seemed to sag against the bars. A sinking feeling filled Garp's chest the longer Roger took to tell him he was joking. His eyes roamed over Garp's face. Taking him in, memorizing his features, the gray in his hair, the sharpness of his jaw. They weren't young anymore. "I'm sick and there is no cure, Garp." The air left Garp's lungs. "...I found out the day before I asked you to come with me," there was sorrow in Roger's eyes, enough to drown away the last of his doubts.
At long last, in those few seconds of silence as the world waited on baited breath for Roger's answer, Roger stopped searching. Their eyes met. Garp couldn't breathe. This was it. Oh god this was it. The end. "You want my treasure? You can have it! I left everything I gathered together in one piece. Now you'll just have to find it!" his final words echoing as the spears came down.
His smile as bright as the day they'd met.
Minutes passed, Garp reeling and struggling against the tides of emotion crashing and swirling inside his head. "Why...didn't you tell me?" he finally whispered. Roger leaned against the bars separating them. "I didn't want our chase to end…not like that," he whispered, Garp could feel his breath on his cheek. Their foreheads touched through the bars.
"You should go, Garp," Roger murmured. Freedom choosing its end, releasing him. Garp looked at him, his shaggy black hair, wild mustache, and his eyes, his eyes that always held so much fire. Even now, they had yet to dim. He brought his hand up gently to cup Roger's cheek, shoulder brushing the metal caging him in. "I'm supposed to chase you till the end," he whispered as their lips met for the last time.
Garp opened his mouth to scream, to call out for him, but there was no sound as the crowd roared to life and an era came to an end.
Notes:
This is going to be a two-shot, the next chapter is about Ace. I made myself sad while writing this, but I do that a lot. Why do I always hurt Garp when I love him so very much? Going to add to the Garp/Roger ship, they have so much potential!
Shout out to Chiaki_Hamano for helping me flesh this out!
Let me know your thoughts!
As always, thank you for reading and you can find me on twitter at buggyisbest