AN: trigger's guys, there is some graphic depictions of violence in this one and a fair amount of mental instability from one character.

Holly opened one eye when she heard it, nails clicking along the floor. She found herself looking at her curtains with the soft breathing and snores of the other girls in her ears. Holly waited a moment, listening carefully, and then heard the brush of fur on her curtains. He was back.

Sleep that night hadn't been easy coming to Holly; her mind had been entirely too busy with what had happened. On the implications of Remus leaving, Dumbledore's actions, her own soulmate, and Sirius Black. So, even with her soulmate sleeping at the moment, Holly found she couldn't. She couldn't rest her brain, couldn't stop her constant shifting… and now Padfoot had finally returned. Now, Holly had a choice to make. Did she speak to Sirius? Did Holly demand her own answers? Did she finally start to grab hold of her own life and ruin the status quo? Well, in the end, Holly was too curious for her own good, and the choice was surprisingly easy to make.

She had to know.

So when Padfoot lifted his paws onto the bed, as his claws scraped at the ground and the curtains parted, Holly turned. She stared down the too intelligent dog full in the face. Then, Holly cast aside her blankets without further warning, she wasn't sleeping anyway and sat up. Smoothly, Holly slid her legs over the bed and pulled on her trainers, which had actually belonged to Percy. He'd given them to her when Holly had a bit too much trouble with Dudley's cast-offs falling apart, and surprisingly they fit her far better than her whale cousin. Regardless, Holly pulled the shoes on then grabbed her outer robe since she knew that the castle had quite the draft even so close to the summer.

Pulling on the robe, Holly clicked her fingers out of habit and called: "come on, Padfoot, let's go for a walk."

Holly tried not to feel guilty over the way Padfoot's tag frantically wagged; he was too much like an excited dog. She'd had sworn up and down that if she hadn't seen it with her own two eyes that she never would have been convinced Padfoot was anything but a dog. But Holly had seen it, and she was going to get answers. So Holly slid from the common room on soft feet; she bypassed the Fat lady and ignored the woman's huffing. This was hardly the first time Holly had left in the middle of the night, and not even the first time she'd done so with Padfoot. She had walked him on multiple occasions, after all. However, the change that occurred then was Holly did not head downward toward the small courtyard to walk him, but rather toward a nearby empty classroom. Holly did not want paintings to overheard this conversation. She knew, from the twins slightly illegal brewing, that many classrooms did not have any pictures.

She found one such classroom without too much issue and poked her head in. The twins had been correct; there were no paintings on the wall, so it would work. So, without further ado, Holly entered with Padfoot curiously at her heels… and then she kicked the door closed. Padfoot jumped a foot in the air and swung toward her as Holly pulled out her wand and rounded on him without any hesitation.

Holly locked eyes with the canine; his sorrowful black eyes were wide - and utterly inhuman - as he looked at her. But his ears were up, listening, and his fur was down. He showed none of the defensiveness Holly had gotten used to from Ripper. No, Padfoot was just a dog with his girl; he wasn't expecting anything.

And she was going to break his heart for answers.

It almost made her hesitate. Almost. But, Holly needed some answers, she needed to know what happened to her parents, and she, Merlin, she was so tired of following. Holly was done with letting people make decisions for her, done with being kept out of the loop because she was a 'kid.' She was done. So, she cleared her throat… and did it.

"Okay, we need to talk… Sirius."

The dog flinched, his entire body went positively rigid, and Padfoot skidded back several steps away from her. He gave a loud whine to disguise it all, tried to play it off as confusion, but he'd given himself away already, and Holly was not falling for it. She, wand level, she repeated: "I mean it, we need to talk, and that requires you being human."

Padfoot whined again, he bowed his body, and his tail flipped under his body to stare at her pathetically. Holly didn't let herself be taken in though, she stared him down with an arched brow… and waited. Seconds passed, minutes maybe, then Padfoot gave one final desperate whine and… his body changed. Holly's wand followed his growing form; she kept it pointed to his face even when Sirius ended up kneeling in front of her, unwilling to stand. Even when he looked up at her with endlessly sad eyes and asked how.

"H-h-how-" Sirius choked, rubbing at his throat. He wasn't used to speaking anymore, and it showed in that simple action.

Holly braced herself, "Moony told me."

She eyed her 'godfather,' Sirius was wearing stolen robes instead of the Azkaban uniform, and he wasn't rake thin like in his prophet photos. Sirius was also clean, making her believe he was likely sneaking around to shower. Sirius wasn't wearing shoes, and his hands were curled as if he thought they were still paws. He had his head cocked like a dog and was constantly sniffing at the air, likely a by-product of spending so much time as a canine, Holly supposed.

"But he doesn't know the whole story… so I want it. What happened the night my parents died?"

Sirius ducked his head, he pulled his shoulders over his ears and released a keening noise that made her skin shiver. But that was just the beginning, as Sirius lifted his hands to his face and sobbed. "I- it's my fault-" and Sirius Black broke down on the spot, "I convinced them to change- oh Merlin- Holly- I'm so sorry!"

Holly's eyes went wide, and her wand automatically lowered as the grown man before her shattered. She could scarcely breathe, she'd never seen an adult lose it so drastically in her life- she hadn't even been aware it was possible. Sure, she'd seen Vernon lose it in anger. She'd seen Petunia be endlessly cruel… but this sorrow- this sorrow wasn't anything she'd ever seen before. Holly had no idea how to deal with it. She was left floundering in minor regret as Sirius spewed the tale of that fateful night. As he spoke of secret keepers, Peter Pettigrew, and the race to check on James and Lily only to find their corpses.

He sobbed through the entire thing while Holly winced at every sobbed word. She was disconnected from this, sure it was her life and her parents, but she didn't remember it. Holly had no real connection to James and Lily beyond the stories told by others. She didn't remember their voices, their love, or their… anything really. Yes, this story was tragic, but Holly was detached and seeing Sirius break down just made her… tired and regretful.

"Where did they even get the idea for this charm?" Holly eventually asked as she stashed her wand; she didn't need it as it turned out. Sirius really had been innocent even though he was swimming in endlessly guilt that Holly saw no point for. It wasn't like he could predict the future; he didn't know Pettigrew was the traitor.

"The… charm?" he repeated blankly, drained over the emotions he had been showing.

"Yeah," Holly leaned on a nearby desk, "I mean, where did it come from? And why don't more people use it if it's so safe." Which it wasn't, her parents had died after-all. "And how does it have anything to do with the 'protection' on the Dursley's home?" Dumbledore had told her about that particular bit of magic. But, surely, if there was some miracle magic on her aunt's house, then she'd feel or? Or if there was, why hadn't her mom and dad used it?

Holly was rather confused.

"The charm…" Sirius repeated, his brow furrowed as he desperately tried to remember. To pull the fog from his head and give Holly the information she'd asked for… and then it clicked. "Dumbledore, he suggested it… he was the one to perform the spell." He nodded along with his thoughts, unaware of Holly's expression, "that's why people don't use it; it takes too much power."

"Hold on." Holly held up her hand to stall him; her face was twitching as she said it, her fingers flexing on the spot. Because… what. "What do you mean Dumbledore performed it, doesn't that mean he knew why the secret keeper was? Why did he even know that? Wait- no wait-" her eyes darted from side to side as things suddenly started to click. "Why did mom and dad even need to go into hiding in the first place? Sirius!" she pushed from the desk to get right into his space. He made him jerk back, panicked and wary at her sudden energy.

Holly was a smart girl, and she'd finally gotten a piece of the story to lead her on.

"Tell me!"

"T-the-" Sirius swallowed, "yes, he performed it… he knew who the secret keeper was."

"What about when you changed keepers?" she demanded; she was a step away from grabbing Sirius and shaking him. How was he this blind- no, of course, he was, he'd been in Azkaban. His mind was shot. It was no wonder he was missing the pieces she'd caught on to. Sirius mentally couldn't make the same jumps she was; he wasn't capable of it and probably hadn't been for a long time. "Was he there, Sirius?"

"He was there." Sirius answered cluelessly as to why she suddenly yelled in pure frustration. He didn't understand; it didn't click. Sirius didn't know why she was screaming in rage. He had no idea that Holly had just realized that Dumbledore was why Sirius had been arrested. He was the reason she had lived with the Dursleys. Because Dumbledore was powerful, and if he'd said a single thing about the charm, then Sirius would have been declared innocent and-

"Ahhhhrgggg!" Holly kicked brutally at a nearby desk, and Sirius got lost in the past. He couldn't see Holly anymore, all he saw… was Lily. Those fierce green eyes, that anger, that sudden explosion of frustration, it was all Lily Evans. He gave a whimper, especially when those eyes turned back to him and demanded answers he desperately had to struggle to provide.

"Why were they in hiding! Why was mom and dad-" Why was I in hiding, Sirius? Why did we hide? "-in hiding!?"

It hurt. Sirius sank to the floor and grabbed his head as Lily- Holly- Lily- asked him. She wanted to know- she'd asked for- he had to- it hurt.

"Sirius! Why were-" was- "They-" I- "hiding!?"

Why did they hide? Why did they hide? Why did they hide?

He clawed at his head as Holly realized too late that she'd pushed him too far. Guilt rushed her, and Holly froze, "oh- oh no! Sirius-" she ran forward as Sirius clawed at his head, as he pierced the skin and started to bleed across his fingers. As he keened helplessly and violently twitched. "I'm sorry!" Holly gasped, trying to catch his hands and pull them from his head, "no stop, Sirius!" Holly hadn't meant this, she'd just wanted answers; she hadn't expected him to hurt himself. Hadn't expected him to break- but Moony had said, Moony had warned her when she'd earlier revealed himself. She'd- she didn't know the obliviate, she didn't know how to fix this.

What did she do-

"Prophecy!"

Holly froze, hands on Sirius' as he looked up at her, triumphant that he'd come to the answer. He smiled, bright and overwhelmed because he'd done it. He'd remembered. "What?" Holly breathed.

"They hid… because of the prophecy."

"A prophecy…" Sirius sagged as he nodded; he allowed Holly to grip his hands as he melted on the spot. As he leaned forward and pressed his bowed head to her legs, he stared at the ground as he did and nodded. Seeing that, seeing Sirius act like that and seeing the blood from his hands on his fingers… Holly dropped it. She'd have to ask later or find out how to discover the prophecy on her own without Sirius. Not to mention she doubted he actually knew or remembered the words. "Okay, okay." She placed her hand gently on his head and brushed his hair like she would when he was a dog. "It's okay… Sirius, you're okay. You did… good, good job remembering."

Sirius nodded into her leg again and relaxed further. Holly felt her eyes tear up and mentally… what should she do? Holly was floundering here. She had no idea how to comfort Sirius, especially when she'd been the one to cause this.

A presence stirred at the back of her mind, and Holly sucked in a sharp breath that went unnoticed by Sirius.

Her pirate.

Holly opened her mouth; his language was at the tip of her tongue and- she felt his pain before he drifted off once more, and her mouth snapped closed. No. He had enough to deal with; she could handle this herself. Holly would just have to take it one step at a time.

"Okay." She lifted her hands from Sirius' head, "come on, Padfoot, let's go to bed. I have tests starting soon, so some rest would be good." And a pepper-up potion, maybe the twins would give her one.

Sirius lifted his head, eyes almost eerily blank… then he smiled, and his form shifted. In an instant, Holly had her dog back where her godfather had been. His tail hit a fast beat as he allowed Holly to back off and head for the door. He trotted along beside her, kept his focus on Holly exclusively as she led them back to the common room, past the Fat lady, and up the stairs, and up to her room.

The girls were still sleeping as Holly kicked off her trainers and slid into bed. As she tossed her robe to the side and patted the bed. Sirius climbed and took his position at the end of the matress as he always did. This time, however, Holly made sure to seal the curtains closed with a quick spell. Then, she cast a look at Sirius… no Padfoot, who was already asleep. But Holly wasn't. No, once again, Holly had entirely too much on her mind, and it didn't matter that she had her tests beginning that day.

No. Sleep would be a long time coming indeed.

Liquid hit him; burning, boiling, acidic fluid had Shanks launching into wakefulness in a second.

This time there was no wondering where he was, Shanks knew in an instant that he'd passed out, and he was regretting it. Bleary-eyed and head pounding, Shanks sought for his assailant and found the man already at his wrists- shit, when had he gotten that close- Shanks moved to rip his hands back to himself, but he was too late. He'd already been moved from the wall and attached to a longer chain meant to drag him forward. One meant to force him to move and to follow.

The slaver yanked on the chain and wrenched Shanks' arms forward; in once swift jerk, Shanks was dragged to his feet. In this case, Shanks didn't resist; he didn't dare let his shoulder be yanked from its socket. Still, the effort to get to his feet and keep up with the sudden motion had cost him. Shanks' body was on fire, and his mind was sluggish as he swayed on the spot. He felt sick like he was a moment away from throwing up. Like he wanted to pass out on his feet. Shanks also felt like he was freezing and all that equalled to one realization.

It was likely- in fact, very possible that he had an infection.

The slaver wrenched him forward a step, and it caused Shanks to stumble. Shanks narrowly avoided collapsing right there and then as the world spun out. Instead, he managed to catch the large wooden pole in the middle of the room to brace his hands against. It was a welcomed pause before he was pulled forward again. Before he was put in line with a dozen others and marched forward.

Sluggishly Shanks' mind put two and two together. The day before, he'd been allowed to rest; today, though, he was being put the work. Aware of that, Shanks honestly wished it was the other way around. The day before, he'd been more healthy, yes his body had been killing him, but now- now infection had set it, and the fever in his body was building. At this rate, he'd been too unhealthy to even dream of escape, which could possibly be the entire point.

"Move!"

Hell. Shanks forced his foot forward, forced himself to move, and- blankness encroached on his vision. He was- he was going to- Shanks pitched forward, felt his knees give. The consequence of passing out would not be good, but there was nothing Shanks could nothing but take it and hope he survived. Because he was not able to catch himself this time, Shanks was going to fall and- a hand grabbed the back of his tattered shirt. It pulled him back to his feet and set him to rights. Fingers tangled in his clothes and stayed there; the hand did not withdraw. Someone was holding him up.

Shanks glanced to the side, blinking rapidly to focus, and found blue in his vision.

Buggy.

He exhaled in relief at his luck. Buggy had been put behind him, and now Buggy could help him keep upright. "I've got you, Shanks," Buggy told him in a whisper, "I'm a coward, and you're stronger than me. So if we have any hope in escape, you need to get it together." They were pushed forward, moved toward the stairs, "so until we land, lean on me."

Shanks felt his head drop rather than nod. He would do precisely that; he'd let Buggy keep him up and do his best to keep his energy up to escape.

In the end, though… they were both wrong. They were not being put to work, and they were not waiting until landfall.

They already had.

Shanks and Buggy ascended the stairs, and Shanks got his first look at the deck of the ship he'd been placed on. His first thought was not on the style and size of the vessel. It wasn't on the size of the enemy crew or how many prisoners were present. He didn't even have the mind for the woman who burst into tears nearby. No, all Shanks could do was stare at the ancient trees of the Sabaody Archipelago. Nearby he could see the numbered tree, he could see the bubbles floating high overhead, and he realized that his time to escape had come.

Turning his head, Shanks caught Buggy's wide eyes. Not even Buggy had noticed they had landed sometime during the night, and suddenly they were left without a plan. Suddenly they had to act without a plan, without a clue what to do, and with Shanks barely able to stand from the fever running through his body.

Shanks dry swallowed, his mouth felt like it was full of cotton, and by force, he looked away from Buggy. 'So be it then,' he thought to himself.

Nearby the slavers started to bark out their orders while the prisoners were lined up one by one. The goal seemed to be to march them to the nearby slave hall and presented. They were going to be marched out before crowds of people, shown off. They were going to be sold. The goal was to get them all sold even if Shanks could barely stand. Well, screw that. Shanks inhaled deep and forced his lungs to breathe because Rayleigh had always said people who don't breathe don't think. Then he breathed out and pulled his hands slowly up to his chest. He pressed his elbows against his side, wrists together, and felt Buggy shift to give the Shanks enough slack for the next step.

Bracing himself and showing back the pounding headache and nausea, Shanks scanned the deck. Twelve men on deck, dozens more below. Twenty-eight slaves in sight. Four men distracted by chaining them up in order. Two more shoving around one of the women, one kicking a man who hadn't gotten up and… one heading toward Shanks and a resolved Buggy.

Shanks tightened his arms and felt black slide up his fingers. He wasn't at good as Rouge, Rayleigh or the captain, but Shanks could still use his haki when all else failed, and in this case, he had no choice but to succeed. Shanks did not fail. He coats his arms up to his elbows in haki and then, without any hesitation, lifted his arms up- and slammed them down and apart.

The Slavers had been using second-grade metal; with haki implemented, the mental was all but useless at keeping Shanks still. The chains gave way; they bent from the force and snapped from the pressure he put on them. The metal struck the ground with a loud eerie clang, and then Shanks moved. He kicked off the ground, and his blackened fist slammed home in the nearest slaver's nose. The man screamed and was sent flying off to the right where there was a splash, but Shanks was no longer paying attention to him. Not as he twisted on the spot and brought his hand down on the link between Buggy's wrist, shattering the connection between the shackles. Buggy wasn't nearly as good with armament haki; he really only had the barest control of observation. So Shanks broke him free and hoped Buggy could cover his back- especially when Shanks staggered a mere moment later-

God, he was going to throw up-.

Shanks dodged under a hand, grabbing for his neck and kicked out at the man's stomach. Snarling to keep the bile inside him, Shanks fought. He dodged on instinct and struck at anyone close. Shanks watched Buggy tackle four men to the floor and heard the distant sound of metal hitting the ground as someone broke free. Everything was moving too fast and yet too slow. A hand caught the back of his neck, and Shanks blindly elbowed behind him- his skin struck something, and the grip vanished. So Shanks struggled his way forward.

-he had to get off this damned ship-

"Subdue them!"

They had to vanish into the forest- to escape. Shanks had to make two lost prisoners less worth it, to make the men decide to abandon a chase to keep the rest of their slaves- had to make it expensive. If the slavers lost Buggy and Shanks, it would have to be less of a loss to them than if they'd lost every other prisoner. They wouldn't pursue two over a dozen. So all Shanks had to do was get to the forest. He just had to break free of their number.

Shanks twisted, pushing up with a hand to slam his foot into a man's gut. The world spun as it happened, and his shoulder brutally protested- Shanks covered his mouth with his free hand, sure he was going to lose the content of his stomach. He gasped a deep breath as another slaver rushed toward him, grit his teeth together and forced his blackened arm up.

No. He was not becoming a slave; it was not happening!

The man stepped into Shanks' space. The slaver fought with a strength the others didn't possess, but Shanks refused to let that matter. The man had nothing on Rayleigh, and sick or not, Shanks could handle this- the sound of someone crashing to the ground echoed behind him, and Shanks dared to look back. Only for a moment. Only to check his flank and he saw a slaver shove Buggy's head into the wood. At that moment, Shanks had never seen Buggy so furious and truthfully would never see such an expression again.

"No!" Buggy swore as he the ground pinned by three men. Buggy knew, unlike Shanks, that these three had come from the lower levels during the chaos. The same three had rushed right for Shanks, taking the red-head as the threat, but Buggy had intercepted them when Shanks staggered. Now though, he was paying for it.

Ideally, Shanks wanted to break his friend free but had no time for it. Not when someone kicked out at his feet, and Shanks went down hard. He crashed to the ground, landing on his shoulder. Shanks heard it give a loud pop and felt a body drop on top of his moving to pin him as well. Shanks swore and bucked; he felt his wrist give a crack as it was grabbed and pulled behind his back. Shanks dared to brace with his other one attempting to get the man off him, he twisted and felt something crack, and his vision went white.

He'd dislocated his left hand, but it didn't matter because if he didn't get away now- a boot slammed into his face, and the world went black for a moment.

When the world returned, there was a familiar voice above him, and the chains were being latched across his wrists.

"I thought so." The voice said, the same the man pinning him- "you were definitely a runner." A laugh and Shanks cast a look behind him, through his hair. Yes, it was him, the same slaver that tortured him, "a good thing you've got an infection." The man dug his fingers at Shanks' wrists, and he- he screamed- "otherwise you really might have gotten away."

A world away, Holly snapped her head up from her test and shot a wide-eyed look around.

'Dammit- dammit dammit dammit.' Shanks thought as his face was forced into the wood of the deck. Nearby, Buggy was swearing up a storm as he was re-chained, the both of them separated this time, placed on opposites sides of the line. It meant Buggy could do nothing when Shanks was ripped to his feet even when he couldn't stand. It meant all Buggy could do was swear when Shanks was dragged by his collar in place and swear as Shanks screamed in pain.

"How many were lost?" called a voice ignoring Buggy's furious struggles.

"Just the one," answered another, "should I send someone after him?"

"Leave him; it's too expensive."

"Screw you-" Buggy started to say when he felt something press to the back of his head, and he froze. A gun- it was a-.

"I think it's in your best interest and your friends that you come along nicely." Buggy swore internally as he shot a look at Shanks, who was baring his teeth at the slavers. Shanks didn't even seem to care his arm was limp at his side or that his wrist was pointing in the wrong direction. He was struggling despite it all and- he hadn't seen the-.

"Shanks! Behind you!" Buggy yelled despite the gun at his head. But he was too late; Shanks turned too slow as the slaver, and all Buggy could do was watch as the back of the man's sword connected brutally with Shanks' temple. His best friend dropped like a stone. He hit the floor and was out in an instant. Buggy swallowed, staring at Shanks, at his red hair splayed out across the deck and the line of blood leaking across the ground. He stared at Shanks' broken body and heard the safety click off the gun at his head.

"Well?" the man asked of Buggy.

"You won't shoot," Buggy answered and ducked. He hit the ground and kicked out behind him because he was right. Buggy and Shanks were merchandise now; the slaver wouldn't kill them not until they made a profit. So Buggy attacked, he clawed at the man who grabbed him and screamed. He screamed and screamed and screamed as he was pinned to the ground, as he was chained up and screamed until he was dragged to his feet and forced to make a choice.

Because they put him beside Shanks. So Buggy could choose, continue fighting… or make sure Shanks wasn't bodily dragged along the ground when the rest of them walked. Because the slavers were going to move, and the other prisoners were going to follow. And Buggy could struggle against them, or he could pick up his friend and keep him as safe as possible. After what Shanks had already done for Buggy, well, that choice was easy.

"Now, that's better." The slaver announced, the head man, "shall we get a move on? We're a bit late for our esteemed guests, and we all know how moody they get."

Buggy clenched his fists, then he stooped down and picked Shanks up. It was a struggle, especially with his chained hands, but he did it, and the slavers didn't waste a moment. They were marched forward, pulled off the deck and toward the nearby slaver house.

However, none of the slavers realized the flickering energy Buggy was giving off as a last-ditch attempt. He flared his haki, again and again, and prayed to all the gods that existed that the captain was close enough to sense them.

And he prayed because their lives were in the god's hands now.

Something was going on. He could feel it in the air, and on the winds, something big was going to happen, and Marco was worried. Perched on a tree branch within Sabaody Archipelago, Marco scanned the crowds, wondering what he was feeling and wondering if he should contact his father about it. Marco was unsure if his captain would take his worries seriously or not since it was only a feeling that something was going to happen.

Pirate instinct, or bird instinct…

Marco narrowed his eyes as he spotted a figure frantically running from the shore. The man dodged from building to building with his hands pressed together, no not pressed together, they were chained together. A slave? An escaped slave? That was uncommon. Marco felt his flames flicker up his arms as they transformed into wings.

Perhaps that man knew what was going on.

He took flight and darted for the figure, determined to discover what was going on. Marco flew above the slave, eyes narrowed as he took in the curled hair, and… gapped teeth? Had he lost those in a fight? Curious. Marco pitched to the side and descended toward the man.

As he did, Marco was unaware of a presence slowly building on the horizon, and the strongest of people on the archipelago tensing up as the wind changed and the bright skies darkened ominously.

"Shanks! Wake up!"

It hurt. Everything hurt. Shanks was exhausted; he wanted to do nothing but sleep for the rest of eternity.

"Shanks! You red-haired moron! Wake up!"

He was too tired for this, too tired to try again. Every attempt just resulted in more pain, every try resulted in failure; Shanks had failed. He'd failed, and he had no desire to listen to Buggy's insistent nonsense bringing him back. He just wanted to rest!

"Get up, Shanks!… that… uh… that stupid soulmate of yours needs you!"

"She's not stupid." Shanks grit out and forced his eyes opened. The light sent piercing pain through his head; it ached- his whole body did.

"Yes, she is, the stupidest!"

"You are trying to die?" Shanks forced his eyes open and shot them to Buggy. They were in a small area with a caged wall. He and Buggy were attached to the wall by their wrists at opposite sides of the small room. It was the slavers' building then; they were going to be sold.

"No." Buggy snapped, "I'm trying to wake you up! You need to break these chains."

"It's no use."

"We're trapped."

"Shut it!" Buggy snapped at the other slaves, then twisted back to Shanks, "Let's go. Haki up!"

Shanks shot a deadpanned look at Buggy; he was still laid out on the ground. His shoulder was out of its socket, his head was pounding, his body was one large bruise, and his wrist was broken, and yet Buggy was expecting- "you do it." He said without inflection.

"I CAN'T!"

"Yup. You do it, I'm sleeping." He dropped his head back to the floor and closed his eyes as Buggy freaked. It was fine though. Fine as people started to whisper, and a set of soft boot-falls echoed down the hall.

"Shanks!"

Shanks hid his face by his hair and breathed carefully. He ignored the panicked prisoners as the boot-fall grew closer and closer, as Buggy freaked and internally rolled his eyes. Because it was fine. Because Buggy, unlike Shanks, couldn't hear the difference between a slaver… and a woman.

Shanks opened his eyes and stared at the figure outside their cell. At the short brown hair and the gray eyes as the owner looked at them both from underneath an extravagant feathered tricorn hat. As Buggy choked on his tongue in realization. As Shanks finally released his tight grip on his emotions and allowed pure relief to swim across his being. Because they were fine.

The crew had come for them.

"Hello boys,"

"Miss Rouge!" Buggy exclaimed.

Rouge, the Captain's soulmate, stood before them with her disguise firmly in place. Her pink hair was hidden under a mousy brown wig and covered by the tricorn. Her signature freckles were hidden under a layer of makeup that also served to pale her naturally darker skin. While her typical dress had changed to a positively scandalous number that never failed to make Roger stare. The entire thing was, to them, a familiar disguise Rouge often used during battle. It was also the guise she was infamous under.

"Boys," Rouge repeated as she scanned their forms, barely able to suppress the rage she felt as she took them in. At the bruises littering Buggy's skin and Shanks… gods, Shanks. The cabin boy was a mess, and Rouge knew, just from a glance, that Shanks needed to see Crocus as soon as possible. In fact, it seemed a miracle he was conscious at all. As such, Rouge wasted no time in reaching for the cage door and crushing the handle between her hands so she could pull the door open. As she directed a hand at the other crew members present with her, she ordered them with a flick of the hand to handle the other slaves. Before she stepped into the cage and said with deceptive mildness: "what have I told you about falling for the goo-goo eyes."

She batted her lashes at them and strode forward to kneel beside Shanks. Reaching forward, Rouge placed her hands on his shackles and ground them to dust under her fingers. Her haki control was effortless, and Shanks skin was left perfectly unharmed as the metal shattered and fell away.

Freed Shanks allowed his body to fully relax. Rouge was here. The Captain was here. They were safe.

"Alright, Shanks?" Rogue asked, cupping his cheek and tilting it to the side so she could see the nasty goose-egg at the back of his head.

Not truly answering her, Shanks replied in a rasp: "I didn't fall for anything. I've only got one lass that can pull me away, and that wasn't her." Her- Holly, his little witch… he'd be able to sing to her now. Shanks could tell her his name.

"So I see." Rouge commented and moved to Buggy next, "I assume Buggy was responsible for this then?"

"Yes."

"I WAS NOT!"

"See," Rouge tapped Buggy's cheek, pleased that he wasn't too bad. He could probably walk on his own, "this is why we check on you constantly. I suspect that you won't bother Rayleigh or me the next time we do so." She kindly wiped a bit of blood from Buggy's face and nodded to herself, yes, Buggy would be fine. "Roger couldn't sense you weren't on the island when we checked, so we followed immediately after." Rouge didn't tell the boys they had been in Roger's range of haki the entire time. They would never know how Roger he nearly lost it when he started to feel Shanks' signature flickering in pain or when he'd felt Buggy's guilt grow. Or when he, and by extension, the crew, realized someone was torturing their boys, and they were nothing they could do until they caught up.

Shanks nodded shallowly as Rouge moved back to him. She knelt at his side, debating how to pick him up. As she did, Buggy joined her side, ready to assist.

"I can help Miss Rouge," Buggy offered.

"It's fine, I've got him." It was a sign of how bad he was that Shanks didn't even argue. He let Rouge maneuver his body without complaint, beyond a grunt of pain when she moved his arm. Beyond that grunt, Shanks remained silent and let his eyes slip closed. The fever and injuries had taken their toll, and he was not going to stay conscious for long, especially with the concussion on top of everything else. Instead, he let his head drop to Rouge's shoulder and let himself drift as she carried him out of the slave building.

He paid only brief attention to the chaos outside the building. The crew causing enormous chaos around the archipelago and countless slavers that had been slaughtered. He was out by the time Buggy and Rouge dodged the marines showing in massive numbers to 'defend' the people. Rouge simply crept along the back-route, using her stealth to lead Buggy and herself out and avoid the marine dogs. Which now included Garp, whom Roger was a bit too gleefully fighting.

No, Shanks was out by the time Rouge and Buggy returned to the ship. The world had faded away, and before he ultimately passed out… Shanks could swear he could hear a voice singing directly in his ear. And he knew, even as he passed out, that it was, without a doubt, Holly showing him that she was still there.

It should have been an ordinary show. The celestial dragons had been sat down and told of the extraordinarily coloured humans that had been procured. The pair were excited, and the slavers knew they'd be earning a high amount of that particular show.

Everything should have gone according to plan.

The show started, several slaves were sold off… and then the doors at the back opened, and presence fell upon them. Not one member of the survival crowd that day would ever forget as he walked in. As everyone present turned at once to see his red cloak, his eerily familiar facial hair and that damned hat. Then, with no warning at all, those closes to him foamed at the mouth and dropped unconscious. A scream went off, but the man did not seem to care in the slightest.

He shot the screamer an unimpressed look before taking a step. The noise of it echoed through the room as the man screamed power. He slowly descended the stairs and dropped people like flies as he passed.

The man gave no mind to the celestial dragon, who rushed to her feet to point a gun at him. Not as he casually brushed past her and knocked her on her ass with a single look. Not as he focused on the slavers standing at the front of the stage and calmly spoke.

"You. Have someone that belongs to me."

And all hell broke loose.

People screamed and bolted for the entrance. They passed Rayleigh, who had gone unnoticed due to Roger's sheer presence. Rayleigh didn't bother stopping the civilians who rushed past him; they weren't the goal. Though he did sigh at his captain as Roger knocked the celestial dragon unconscious, "We've an admiral on the way now." Roger probably did it on purpose, anything to fight off the excess emotions plaguing him now that they'd caught up to the boys. Rayleigh honestly didn't blame him though, he wanted a fight just as much as Roger did.

Roger shrugged lazily as he felt Rouge's presence move toward the back. He tracked her carefully as he was the boys. Rouge was gunning toward Shanks, who was almost blank. Shanks' presence was screaming with pain and fever, and for the slaver's sake, he had best just be unconscious because not even God would help them if those boys died.

A form shifted to the left, and Roger spotted the figure; that man had been the presence closest to Shanks before he'd felt the boy's pain. That was the one Roger would make suffer. "Rayleigh." Was all he said, and then his first mate was gone. Rayleigh launched for the man, who screamed in horror and fear. The man was snatched from the spot and pressed brutally into the stage with Rayleigh baring down on him.

Something flickered close to the Oro Jackson as Rouge moved her way out of the building with Shanks and Buggy. Roger tilted his head slightly, sensing at the figure, then he made a face. Garp, they'd sent Garp. He'd be hoping for an admiral… all well. Roger would handle that… and ah, it seemed Newgate was on the island, what a small world.

Turning away from the stage, Roger flicked his hands, and the rest of the crew surged forward to ensure the capture of all those who had been involved with the boys. As he did, he called to his first-mate: "I want him alive, Rayleigh."

"Understood, Captain." There was plenty of lee-way in that order, and Rayleigh would take full advantage.

Roger turned off as Rouge reached the boys. He had a dog to intercept before the bastard got too close to his ship.

Buggy was leaned on the deck staring in awe as his Captain strode toward the ship.

Roger had annihilated the marines, and he'd defeated Garp as if it were effortless. Roger had ripped into the marines without hesitation or difficulty. He'd ripped the slaver building down to its foundations and sunk an entire cluster of trees to burn off some energy. Now, absolutely spotless, Roger strode toward the ship.

Buggy caught his Captain's eyes for just a moment, and he knew on sight the man was displeased that Buggy wasn't resting like Shanks. But it was being dismissed due to the allies and enemy pirates observing them from every side. Buggy was glad, though, because this was something he knew he had to witness.

Something was going to happen. There had to be a reason so many vital pirate crews were in the same area at the same time. The amount went beyond just the Roger' pirate allies, the sheer amount-

"Is that whitebeard's first mate?" Buggy hissed at Rouge, who was standing at his side. Rouge had her arms leaned on the railing as she observed her soulmate part the crowd of pirates just by walking through them. Though, at his comment, Rouge glanced to the side and narrowed her eyes. Yes, yes, it was. The phoenix was perched on a nearby tree observing the area, the mark on his chest revealing precisely to whom he was loyal. It meant Whitebeard, or at least his first mate, was present for this… whatever it was.

Rouge clicked her tongue as she focused on the bird. For some unfathomable reason, she didn't like that boy, though she even couldn't begin to explain why. Turning away from the bird, Rouge tapped Buggy and pointed at another set of waters, "look there, behind that building. That's one of big-mam's songs and left of them, right there he's one of Kaido's." Buggy followed along wide-eyed.

"What's happening?" he asked Rouge, believing her the only one who could answer him.

"Roger called our allies for this… he challenged the world government without a moment's hesitation or difficulty," she placed her hand in her hand leaning against it, "they know what's coming, they can sense it." She slid her eyes to Buggy, who was still too young to understand. He didn't know the truth of the world and wouldn't. Roger was determined to let Buggy and Shanks make their own paths to that truth. But it was the reason Buggy didn't know what was going on.

Still, Rouge was curious… would Buggy know the song?

Roger did not pause as he reached the ship. His boots hit the wood, and it sounded off like the loudest thing in the area, and as Roger stepped onto his ship, Buggy felt something move across his skin. He heard Rouge's words, and while he was somewhat lost, instinctively, he knew something was happening. Roger had challenged the world because of them, he'd attacked a Celestial Dragon and called together all these crews just to get them back. He'd just give the middle finger to the government itself.

But it was more than that. It was more.

"Watch carefully now, Buggy," Rouge whispered, "this is the beginning."

"Beginning?" he breathed.

A pressure built in the air, one that had been growing for years, from the moment Roger set sail; only a handful in the area understood and less than that had even noticed. Now, they knew; everyone did. They knew it as the water nearby rolled, as the clouds darkened… and then, there was a whisper.

"King."

Buggy would never know who said it, nor would he ever guess. But it caught like a wildfire.

Roger reached the deck with his back to the crowd; a step behind, Rayleigh followed. From the side, Buggy saw Rouge's shadow her face by her hat, but the flash of teeth that sliced across her face was unmistakable. Meanwhile, a level down in the infirmary, Shanks shifted, and his eyes opened as the pressure built. While a world away, Holly stopped in the middle of the hallway and felt something, like a ghost's breath on her skin.

The pressure grew with the whispers, and someone lit up their voice in song.

Music was so crucial to their world. It was the first way anyone connected, from mothers singing to their bellies, children hearing voices in their heads, to men and women all over the world wondering, hinting, and finding. So it was no surprise to any of them that this moment would be dubbed with song.

"Yo… ho… all together..."

It bubbled up in Buggy's throat even if he'd never heard it before in his life. Something instinctual, something deep within him just knew what he had to do. Knew he had to join in, and he was far from the only one. The voice of every pirate there joined in, collectively singing a song they just knew.

"Hoist the colours high, heave-ho… thieves and beggars, never shall we die."

Roger glanced back at them, and the same smile that danced across Rouge's face echoed on his own.

There he stood, the man who would become King of the pirates.