A/N: Hello there! Long time no see, eh?
Yeah, I know, it's been months but sometimes life calls you back from your lovely writing world and you just have to deal with it. Anyway, here's a new OS, to celebrate the first day of NaNoWriMo 2018!
Down there you'll meet another OC but bear with me. That lady really wanted to be heard! And it allowed me to write down several thoughts that had been bugging me since I first dove in the OP fandom years, years ago.
Soundtrack: Totally irregular this time around (but Mystical Medieval Chants are a wonder for focusing)
Thank you Caigdimo, Rebelgirl01, kurosakidarkangle98, FinoalCielo and Zialema for your fav and/or follow.
And my biggest thanks to sdkop21, Anni, AndurilofTolkien, Guest and particularly to Harmonica Smile and Zialema for your amazing reviews. It kept me going!
Merci Corail Chérie pour cette lecture matinale et pour tes commentaires et pour ton soutien. I have the best writing buddies.
On with the reading now. Enjoy!
Sparks – Bearing fangs (Part 1)
The sun had just began to rise on the horizon but Thatch was already out on deck, looking at the calm sea. Everything around him was silent, his crewmates and brothers still enjoying the few hours of rest they had, except for those on night shift, who were invisibly making sure the ship followed its course smoothly.
He slightly envied those who were able to take any chance they had to sleep. Being a light sleeper, he couldn't. So here he was, resting his elbows on the Moby's railing, a steaming mug of coffee by his side, taking in the view. The Chef's privilege he guessed. The members of his division would be up soon enough, readying themselves for their day. He was now used to this strange rhythm, a bit out of sync with everyone else.
Sighing, he took a cigarette from the inside pocket of his jacket and lighted it up. The first drag filled him with contentment, quelling his restlessness. A weird dream had woken him, involving lack of food again. It was something he never laughed about, considering the size of the crew and the amount of food they required. He had checked their food supplies three times this morning, just in case, before going out to breathe and change his mind.
He took another puff, savouring it. He knew if she found out, their doctor would be mad at him. Not openly so but still. Jillian didn't like it when people were playing with their health under her care. He remembered the crash course she gave him on a cigarette's composition and how she advised him to go to Izo because the crossdresser was using a less-addictive tobacco. They all knew she wasn't happy with some of the crewmembers' dependence, but they were grown men and she knew better than to lecture them about it.
He was in the middle of dragging on his cigarette when it was snatched out of his mouth by an expert hand. Speak of the devil... With a quick flick of her fingers the ashes fell in the water and Jill brought the cigarette to her mouth. "I'm saving mere minutes of your life" was her answer to his silent question when he looked at her, curious. Thatch chuckled, exhaling the smoke as she took a puff.
He realised she didn't look like a beginner. "What's wrong?"
Her high ponytail and her dangling earrings waved with the wind. She exhaled in turn before replying, "Your stupid brothers... Pete fell from his bunk and broke his nose." He grimaced, sympathising.
They took the stunning view in for a moment before Thatch voiced out something that bugged him in Jill's previous sentence. "They're yours too you know?"
She didn't say anything, and it was an answer in itself. After another drag, she stubbed the cigarette out on the wood's railing before throwing the end in Thatch's empty mug. She sighed at the look he was giving her.
"Thatch... It's barely six in the morning..."
"I know!" he exclaimed raising his hands in defence, "But... It's been nine years already!"
"So what? I already tried to explain it to you. It doesn't sit well with me. It's harder to treat brothers than crewmates and I want to do my job properly."
"But—" he frowned, puzzled.
"Am I that cold to the whole crew? Did some of them complained?" She wasn't the most outgoing person on board but she never turned anyone down.
"What? No! Of course not!"
"So where's the problem?"
Thatch's frown deepened. "We're one big family. And I don't like it when you act or say that you're not a part of it."
She rolled her eyes. "Come on Thatch! Just because it doesn't feel like a family to me doesn't mean I want to be anywhere else! I feel at home here and some of you are my dearest friends. I would trust all of you with my life but I can't resolve myself to call all of you brothers. I understand you don't really get it, but for me, that's the way it is."
The chef waited a bit, trying to understand, but he couldn't really wrap his mind around that. He finally sighed, giving up for now. "Alright... Coffee?" he asked, waving his own empty mug.
"Yes, please."
He smiled before turning around. "Be right back, just enjoy this rising sun!"
The door closed behind the man and Jillian sighed in turn, leaning on the railing, watching the clear water lapping at the wooden hull. It was too early in the morning to have those kind of deep and meaningful conversations. But she had told Thatch the truth and was glad he hadn't pushed it. She had to put some distance between her and the crewmates she could be treating. Her feelings would only cloud her judgment. Not mentioning the fact that she already had a brother and a father. And great ones at that! Of course they didn't mean it as a replacement but it still felt a bit like it: every time it was mentioned, she just let it slip.
She got along well with most of the commanders and had immense respect for Whitebeard. She trusted them but she definitely couldn't view each and every crewmember as a brother. The concept of a pirate family was a nice one but with so many people in the crew it was simply impossible to know and treat everyone equally.
The years spent with them had proven her right: commanders were spending most of their time with other commanders, division members with their division. Brother was more a title than a reality, no matter what they said. They cared for everyone, that was for sure, but no-one could nurture a close and strong brotherhood with each and every one of his thousand siblings. Not mentioning the fact that if Commander was a title it was also a responsibility and commanders had to treat their division's members equally. They couldn't play favourites hence the need to keep some distance with their crewmates. But it was alright, because no-one complained so far. So most of the time she got away with it by simply pretending she was buying this brotherhood thing even though she was avoiding calling any crewmember "brother".
Her thoughts were cut short by a steaming mug entering her field of vision and she thanked Thatch. They drank in silence as the sun rose. Their next halt was still a couple weeks ahead but as always their course was drawing them on and off towards more lively seas. And if the many merchants' ships they had encountered in the past few days was anything to go by, this sea was buzzing. And although they handled themselves and had cordial if not peaceful relationships with most of the civilians, meeting the open sea again and resuming their usual work would do all of them good.
The Moby Dick was quietly sailing off the coast of some islands and Jillian smiled, elbowing Thatch. "Look, this one looks like a whale!" The Chef hummed. "Really? I'm seeing a meaty drumstick."
"Oh, just because your life revolves around food doesn't mean you have to see it everywhere!" the doctor exclaimed with mock indignation, "Here, what about this one?" She gestured toward the island some miles away from the whale-shaped one.
''Hmmmm..." Fingers under his goatee, he furrowed his eyebrows in concentration, creating small wrinkles around his eyes. "It's... a crooked M?"
"That's a swimming camel Thatch," she said, deadpanned.
"If you say so!" He laughed before focusing on something. "And this... is a paddle boat?"
"Wait what? Where?" He showed her a shape slowly moving on the horizon between the two islands they were passing by. "But he's way too far from the coast! With the waves and the currents..."
"Yeah, he's reckless. Not mentioning potential sea monsters..." Thatch frowned before turning to one of the crewmembers standing guard near the bow, on the upper deck. "Oi! Lend me your spyglass!"
He came back, spyglass in hand and looked at the shape again. It was indeed a paddle boat, as yellow and bright as a floating sunflower and... "He is a she."
"What?" Jill came closer to him, hoping to see something.
"Damn she's pedalling fast! Feels like she fleeing away from that island, trying to reach the other. But her paddle boat is already drifting toward us. There, look."
He gave her the binoculars and she watched in turn as a woman with white hair was struggling. "Yeah, the currents are too strong for her boat already... She's pale. If she keeps this pace she won't last long. Ah never mind, she fainted." She saw her body go limp as her boat stopped its course, now only led by the waves. "You're right Thatch, with the strength of the flow, she will be here soon. We can't let her crash against us... What do we do?"
"I'll go fetch her when she's close enough. We'll warn Pops and the others and maybe we could drop her off on the island she was aiming at?"
"Fine by me, commander." She winked as he let out an embarrassed laugh. "I'll go wake my nurses to tell them to get ready and I'll warn Marco."
She disappeared through the door of the main deck leading to her sickbay and stopped by Marco's door to knock six times before resuming her walk. Opening the door of the infirmary she was met with the thick scent of fresh coffee. Four of her nurses were already awake and quietly chatting around a cup of the blessed beverage.
"Morning ladies, we have a female guest!" She hadn't even finished her sentence that they had already jumped on their feet, cups back on the food trolley, ready to follow any of her orders. She didn't have time to feel proud about that simple fact so she went on. "No visible injury but we'll need a blood test. Get the stretcher out. I also want two IV kits ready, one with saline, the other with sugar. She is coming our way. Once she is on board, I'll take her in immediately, so get ready." She then told them more about the situation and dispatched all of the four nurses according to her requests.
Looking at the clock, she knew it was time to go back to the main deck. Putting her white coat on, she took her stethoscope, a baby snailphone and exited the infirmary. She drove the stretcher cautiously in the large corridors, running next to it, and crossed the path of the First mate as he was closing his door.
"Good morning Marco, Magda will brief you! No need to wake the Captain!" she greeted his surprised yet sleepy face without even slowing and gestured to a blond nurse far behind, that was coming to meet him.
Focusing, she arrived on deck only to see a gigantic sea monster facing the side of the ship where she had left Thatch. Several pirates were there but the man was nowhere to be seen. She rushed to the railing, only to be met with the sight of the Fourth Division Commander fiercely standing on the paddle boat. The blades of the two swords he had in his hands shone in the now bright light of the morning. He was shielding the woman sprawled on her seat, still dead to the world.
Jillian refrained herself from calling his name, not wanting to distract him. She knew better than to intervene in any of the crewmembers fights with those giant monsters. With practiced ease Thatch jumped from the paddleboat and beheaded the fish in a swift motion while still in the air. Using the falling body as a springboard he jumped back on the paddleboat. The waves created by the crashing dead body strongly rocked the small embarkation. Keeping his balance, Thatch faced the Moby Dick and grinned.
"Guess tonight's dinner's almost ready!"
Jill smiled. "Well done Commander!" Several other shouts were heard, coming from the pirates that were guarding the Moby.
"So where's this rope I asked for ages ago?" He raised an inquiring eyebrow towards his audience.
"There, Commander." Someone threw him one end, and tying it to the paddleboat he waited for his crewmates to drag them near the hull of their boat, where a rope ladder was already waiting for them.
Hauling the limp body of the girl on his right shoulder, he ascended and Jill retreated towards the stretcher, making sure everything was still in place even though she knew it was.
Thatch's pompadour emerged first and the man was soon on board, a hand firmly securing the passed out burden on his shoulder. The curious crewmates made him a way and he approached the doctor before gently dropping the woman off on the stretcher. Jill immediately took over, stethoscope in her ears.
"Damn, she's hot." He took a moment to catch his breath and his eyes wandered on the unconscious body. He then became aware that the slightly crowded deck was now silent and several pirates were sporting anxious expressions, looking between him and Jillian, that had gone still.
She raised her head and he realised his mistake. He paled and frantically waved his hands.
"U-uh wait. No no no, I mean… I'm no doctor but she has a fever."
He saw Jill's body shaking and he felt cold sweat trickling down his back. Oh no.
The doctor wasn't able to contain herself and she doubled up in laughter, soon followed by some pirates. Clutching her stomach, she laughed heartily. Her earrings shook with the motion. "Oh… Oh oh oh! Thatch!"
She cackled, trying to regain her composure. She took a few deep breaths and wiped her teary eyes before looking back at the commander. But seeing his baffled face, another burst of laughter escaped her lips.
"Oh my… Ahahah! That face!" The man was gaping, not really understanding how he got in this situation in the first place. He had been prepared for Hell to break loose, not for a good laughing session at his expense.
Seeing the joke had been going long enough for the Fourth Commander's pride, Jill stopped laughing and cleared her throat. "Hm. Sorry! But really. Am I that scary?" The man had been looking like she was about to rip him apart with her bare hands.
The ensuing silence made her sigh. "Okay nevermind, rhetorical question!"
Focusing back on the woman, she put her hand on her forehead before taking her pulse. "But you were right, Thatch, she has a bit of a fever. And look." She grabbed the woman's wrist, inspecting it. "Is this…?"
She cut herself midsentence feeling everyone around her getting closer to take a look. Repressing another sigh, she raised her head again and looked at the pirates leaning on each other to get to see what she was referring to. "Don't you all have things to do? Looking through spyglass and stuff?"
"She's right. Back to work guys!" With a clap of his hands, everyone scattered on deck, giving Thatch space to go to Jill's sides. Looking to the woman's hands he understood Jillian's surprise.
"It's…"
"Yeah…" She couldn't help but touch her earrings, and Thatch knew that, like all of her jewels, they were made out of seastone, the main material of her home island. "Should we remove it?"
"No."
Jill looked at the woman's face, slightly red, framed by her white strands of hair. "But if she sustains any injury that a devil fruit could heal…"
It was Thatch's turn to sigh. "Jillian, she looks harmless like that but we don't know anything about her. We can't risk everyone's safety. She better keep those." He had taken his serious commander tone but softened his features and smiled a little. "Besides, she might be just like you and wearing it for no other purpose than liking it."
"But this kind of things are rather expensive Thatch. I could afford those because there was plenty at home. I doubt there's that many islands like mine."
"In any case…"
"I won't remove them yet. I'll bring her in, do a full check-up and take it from there."
"Alright!" He smiled. "And while you do this, I'll go fetch that sea monster and check on my staff."
The woman nodded, before she woke up her baby den den mushi.
"Ok sickbay, she seems fine, no rush. Anna, I forgot but could you go check on Pete? He should be resting in his division's room. I'll manage with Magda, Joan and Ella. Girls, on top of everything I'll need an ice pack because our patient here is a bit too warm, probably from the strain she put on herself. Anyhow, I'm on my way."
She heard a "Roger!" and drove the stretcher towards the inside of the ship, not without asking Thatch to save her some breakfast.
When she opened her eyes, she understood she was in some sickbay. She heard the steady drop by drop of some IV drip. Something cold was on her forehead. Feeling better already, she took it off and placed her hand on one of the safety barrier the bed had to help herself into a sitting position. Pain arose unannounced and she screamed as a knife stabbed her right thigh. She curled her free hand around the ice pack as several needles pierced her forearms' skin, a gash opened her belly, and bruises blossomed on her chest and on her cheeks. She doubled up in pain, tears in her eyes as she moaned.
"Hey, what's wrong? Hey, do you hear me? Where does it hurt?"
A hand was on her naked shoulder, shaking her lightly and the pain receded. The smells of blood and disinfectant mixed with the sweet scent of the detergent was replaced by the smells of smoke and yet to be extinguished fire. She could hear screams coming from everywhere but in front of her lay a red-haired young man. He wasn't breathing anymore. She didn't know why but it pained her. She could feel the hard cobbled ground under her shins and the wetness of her hands in the latex gloves. She felt dizzy. With what remained of her strength she thrust the doctor's hand away and gasped for air.
Coming back to her senses, she screamed. "Don't touch me!" She looked at her arms and her heart skipped a bit. Oh no… No no no no no... "Where are they?" she wondered aloud, eyes wide as she looked around frantically.
"Ok, calm down. My name's Jill—" But she wasn't listening.
"Where are they?" she asked again, slightly panicking when she realised they were nowhere to be seen. "Why did you take them off? You had no right!" Outrage was there too. She couldn't believe it. What was she even doing here?
Jillian paled and raised her hands, trying to catch her attention. Shit. She forgot. "I needed to check on you and—"
"I don't care." Her voice was high-pitched with despair. The hand clutching one of her wrists was shaking. She couldn't focus on anything else than the emptiness there. She had let her guard down and she was now the Maiden knew where without… Without… Her breath hitched. NO!
"I want them back. I need them back. Give them back to me! Now!" she screamed. The air seemed to quiver around her but the doctor didn't flinch at her outburst. She had to try. But… What now? What could she do now? Cry? Beg? She needed them, she needed them before… Before…
"Look, I'm sorry, I forgot to put your bracelets back. I'll give them to you. But why don't you tell me why you need them that much first?" Jill's voice rang again, curious yet soothing, but it was too much. She couldn't stand it, she had never asked for any of this. Why? Why? That was just a sick nightmare and… She wasn't strong enough to face it all over again.
She gave in, bowing her head in defeat. "I... I... Just give them back. I can't... Please..." Desperate tears rolled down her cheeks and she trembled, founding it hard to breathe.
Jillian got even more worried and came closer to her bed, her hands plainly visible. "I will. But for now I need you to calm down and breathe. It's alright. We'll give you a little something to help." Jillian gestured to one of her nurses that had been standing by the woman's side all along and she injected something in the IV drip. "You're safe here, okay? Just relax."
The woman finally went limp and Jillian sighed as she tucked her in. She had really messed up, but she had been fascinated by those bracelets. She didn't know that woman valued them so much. She had taken the time to study them and they were not made from regular seastone either. Extracting one from her white coat's pocket, she wrapped it back around one of the woman's wrist.
What was strange too was that they had checked for any injury twice and found nothing. But that girl had really screamed and looked like she was in pain. And she had become pale and expressionless when she touched her, as if she had gone elsewhere for a mere moment. She didn't get it… Maybe it was her devil fruit or something else? Now she couldn't wait to find out why this girl needed those seastone bracelets that much.
Once the sickbay was quiet again, Jillian resumed her paperwork and filled the unknown woman's file. Marco and Izo had quickly dropped by to have a look and tell her about an upcoming meeting with the captain.
She was about to leave for the meeting room when a crewmate entered the sickbay holding his left arm close to his chest. The girls were having their breakfast. Repressing a sigh she smiled and led him toward an empty bed.
When she reached the meeting room, they had already started and Izo was telling them what he had gathered.
"—and we found a wanted notice in her belongings. Insignificant bounty to be honest, and I've never heard anything about her either."
Finishing his sentence he gave the bounty poster to Marco and looked at Jill.
"Sorry, Alrik from the fifth sprained his wrist." She raised her hand when she saw Vista about to say something. "He's fine and Joan is back in the sickbay so everything's in check." She sat on one of the many empty chairs as the man nodded. All the commanders on board were here.
"Thank you son," Whitebeard intervened, nodding towards Izo. "How is she, Jillian?"
"Mostly fine." The woman sighed as she handed her file to him. "Dehydrated and exhausted. She overexerted herself. She woke up earlier but got really anxious so we had to sedate her. She should be out for another hour at least. No apparent injuries except for a scar, a marine brand in fact, I found on the inside of one of her wrist." She gestured to one of her own.
"Wait… You what?" Thatch exclaimed.
"Yeah, I know, those marks aren't really common but I didn't f—"
"No, not that. You took her bracelets off?" For the second time of the day, the fourth commander looked baffled.
Jillian sighed but looked him in the eye before answering. "I know you told me not to, but I did."
He opened his mouth but she cut him off.
"My check-up was over and the only thing left was the examination of her wrists. I know we both agreed on not removing her bracelets before the check-up, but it was over, Thatch. Not mentioning the fact that we needed to know if those bracelets were really made from seastone or not."
"Were they?" Ace asked.
"Yes, but it's cheap." She took one out of her coat's pocket and showed it to the assembly. "Those are beads of seastone inserted between similar beads that are not. I'd say they're made of onyx or something similar in color. Anyway, seastone is expensive so even this quantity should have cost her a lot. The downside is, it's less powerful than a bracelet entirely made of seastone. But considering she have two of those…" She waved the bracelet one more time. "I'd say it would be effective. In case she was using it as an inhibitor for her devil fruit abilities, assuming she have ones..."
Thatch sighed, leaning back in his seat, while she put the bracelet back in her white coat. "Okay. So I guess she didn't suspect anything?"
"Not exactly." Jill grimaced. "She woke up while I was still examining her bracelets, dazed and screaming, as if she was in pain. She snapped out of it finally and… She freaked out when she found out they were gone. She said she wanted her bracelets back, that she needed them, she begged even… And I would have given them back to her right away but she was too far gone. We had to sedate her to prevent a more severe panic attack."
Several sharp intakes of breath were heard around the table and her tone grew defensive. "Look, I didn't do it on purpose okay? That's not something I could have planned."
"And we know that, daughter," Whitebeard calmly intervened, "but it could have turned out more dangerous than it already was."
She shook her head in denial. "I had measured the risks already. There were low chances that it happened but it wasn't impossible either. The risks were reasonable."
"What about her character and attitude? Could she be dangerous, yoi?" Marco asked.
"It's hard to say... She seemed fickle. Scared yet defensive. I guess she could become aggressive if driven into a corner… But she didn't look that dangerous. We'll just have to be cautious."
"In any case, this woman might have quite the story, yoi." Vista finally spoke, raising his eyes from the bounty poster and showing it to the rest of the commanders. "Right there, it's mentioning they only want her alive."
"What? No way!" Izo took the paper from his hand and read it hastily. "Unbelievable… I'll see if I can gather some intel." He stood up gracefully as the captain was about to end the meeting but the snailphone from the sickbay rang, stopping them.
Jill picked up the small device on her wrist. "What is it Joan?"
The den den mushi's face morphed into a pained grimaced. "Doc! She got out!"
"What? You alright?"
"Almost. She knocked me out. Sorry."
"Don't worry. Get one of the girls to check on you and just stand by at the sickbay. The commanders and I will look for our escapee."
"Roger. Be careful boss, she doesn't look like it but she has a great strength."
Putting the den den back to sleep, Jill look at her captain expectantly.
When she woke up again, feeling slightly dizzy, her IV was gone and her right wrist felt heavier. Raising it above her head she saw her bracelet, as if it had always been there. She let out a relieved sigh. She could tell by the mere drain she was feeling that the other one was missing but that would do for now.
Now… Now she needed out. Whoever those people were they had taken care of her but she couldn't be too trustful. She had to leave as soon as possible. Rising from the soft mattress, she assessed her surroundings. Another bed and a wall on her left. On her right, a white curtain was slightly drawn, shielding her from the rest of the sickbay. The door to what should be a corridor was ajar, one more advantage for her escape. But she couldn't go out without her things. She needed her clothes too. She spotted them, folded on a chair, next to the door. Was it her lucky day?
Not hearing any sound, she carefully stood up, climbing down the bed and reaching towards the chair her folded clothes were laid on.
Focused on trying to get dressed, she didn't hear Joan approaching.
"Hey!" A hand grabbed her arm, forcing her to face the nurse. "What are you doing?"
"Let me go!" She felt dizzy. Oh no... Not again. She didn't have time for explanations. She wanted out. She needed to go out, by any means.
She struggled and the grip on her bare arm became firmer. As the flash of a smiling blond kid assailed her, she felt the nurse trying to push her toward the bed. Panic overwhelmed her once again. Resisting, she managed to free herself from the woman grasp. Not missing a second she hit the nurse in the stomach. Joan stumbled and she took this opportunity to have her in a headlock, making her kneel. Realising what was happening Joan squirmed trying to reach her attacker.
Oh no, not happening! The woman kept going and the headlock grew stronger. Her ears itched and she felt her strength increasing. Winded and gasping for air, the nurse fiercely clawed at her arm, in vain. Soon enough she collapsed.
Letting go of the now unconscious woman, she stood up and took the time to catch her breath. Wiping the sweat that had started to trickle down her face, she held a snort back. And she thought it was her lucky day…
Her ears itched again and she stopped herself from reaching for them, shivering. Okay, new plan. She would have to get her second bracelet back before leaving them. The effects were already starting to wear off. She couldn't afford to be weakened while on the run.
Quickly changing her clothes –her shoes were missing–, she started investigating the desks and closets but couldn't find the rest of her belongings, let alone her missing bracelet. However her eyes fell on an abandoned scalpel and she took it. That was a poor weapon but a weapon nonetheless. She hoped she wouldn't have to use it but she was onboard an unknown ship after all. Desperate times and all that jazz.
She checked on the nurse that was still out. Feeling she had been here too long already, she went for the door and began to run in the left corridor.
She was now facing a door, probably leading to the deck of the boat she was sailing on.
She didn't encounter anyone on her way, listening carefully for approaching footsteps. The doctor might have her last bracelet. She had to find her. She sighed, leaning against a wall, not really ready to open that door yet. Seriously, what had gotten into her? When did her panicked mind thought it actually was a good idea to flee that way? But what could she have done? Wait for the knocked out nurse to wake up and casually apologize?
There was no turning back. There never had been. Not since… Her spread fingers mapped the wall, her lips a thin line as something flowed back.
Snow all around, blood on her wrists, on her tongue.
She didn't want to face that.
It was as if each new footstep was erasing the last, leaving no imprint of the path she had been walking on. Denying her the possibility of ever going back. Sentenced to move forward until death ensues.
The scalpel nearly slipped from her sweaty grasp. Never mind.
She forced herself to open her eyes, to reconnect with the present time. She exhaled and scanned the wall again. The seastone made it harder. Good.
Shouts echoed, the fluttering of something silky, a weird haircut. In any case those people, probably looking for her, had been heading the opposite way she was. She assumed the deck would be quite cleared for now and parting from the wall, she quietly opened the door leading her to the exterior.
The fresh and salty air assaulted her nose before anything else. Ten or so pirates were all over the deck, busying themselves with whatever a sailor needs to do. No doctor in sight, yet if she was stealthy enough, she might be able to look around for her paddleboat. Carefully treading on the wooden planks, she walked along the railing until she sighted it, yellow as ever, tossed around by the waves. A rope was fastening it to the ship.
A sigh of relief escaped her lips. One less thing to worry about. She just hoped they weren't that far from an island, because her legs felt like lead already. Now she just had to find that doctor and-
"What do we have here?"
The woman almost jumped out of her own skin. Careless. Stupid. She had been too caught up to sense a crewmember spotting her. Spinning around she faced him, scalpel in hand, ready to defend herself.
"Oh, you'd better know how to use that girlie!" A tentative grin was on the pirate's face as he raised both his fists. Something on his knuckles caught her eyes and she blanched. Was that Whitebeard's symbol tattooed on each of his fingers?
Oh shit. Okay. She didn't thought this through. But once again, when was she supposed to know she'd passed out while trying to save her life and freedom fleeing away on a freaking yellow paddleboat?
Okay, never mind, she better neutralise him quick and easy and jump for the exit, her belongings be damned. Raising her hand to hit him with the scalpel, they were both stopped in their tracks when someone burst through another door, followed by several men.
"You!" Jill said, pointing at her.
Her ears itched and around her everything froze. She suddenly seemed to have plenty of time to think about what to do next. Assessing her possibilities, she freaked out. It didn't look good.
They were already running toward her, looking rather mad. No missing bracelet in sight. She'd have no other choice but to use the threatening mode.
She only had a little window to act but when she seemed ready, time resumed itself. She took advantage of the shock of their crewmember when the doctor called her. Having him in a loose headlock, she calmly placed the sharp blade of the scalpel against his throat. She felt the short intake of his breath against the skin of her wrist. Her other hand was trembling when she grabbed the man's shirt to keep him closer. No turning back, eh?
They all stopped running but their expression turned harsher. A murderous aura reached her and she repressed a shiver. She couldn't give in, she couldn't falter, not now, not anymore, not ever.
She braced herself and said "I'm not intending to draw blood. Unless you force me to." A new wave of pressure and irritation hit her. She refrained from taking a step back. Damned Haki users. But she didn't get flustered and went on, "I just want what's mine back."
Pirates were surrounding her from a distance but the doctor walked toward her, hands raised.
"Don't take a step any closer," she said, pressing the blade against the pirate's throat more firmly. She felt him wince. "I want my bag and my second seastone bracelet. All my belongings. And then I'll leave."
Jillian stopped, her hand reaching into her pocket. "Okay. Let's—"
"No!" Marco's shout echoed on the deck. Emerging from the crowd, he stood in front of Jill, hiding the doctor from her sight. "We don't negotiate with people threatening our family."
His blue glacier eyes were freezing her to the bone but his words were absolute, exuding a burning confidence. Yet…
"A family? Don't make me laugh! How dare you label yourself a family when you're not doing anything when one of our so-called family member's life is at stake?" An equally burning anger laced her words. The remaining of something painful. She shook her head, trying to stay focused.
A hand was on Marco's shoulder as Jillian stood by his side, looking at her. "What's your name?"
She wasn't expecting that.
"I'm Jillian," she went on, touching her chest. The only response she got was a wary stare.
"Listen, if we wanted to, you'd be dead already." The doctor resumed, gesturing toward the railing of the upper deck, where Izo was waiting gun in hand, blowing his cover. "You're here, we're here. We're all stuck, and if we don't try to find some common ground it might get messy."
She paused briefly, before smiling. "I don't want it to get messy. So, why don't you tell me your name?"
An uncertainty was there before the white-haired woman opened her mouth. "I… I don't have one anymore. They beat it out of me. I'm Fenrir now." She said, holding her head high as if daring anyone to say anything about it.
"I'm sorry, Fenrir."
"I don't need your sugar-coating. I need my bracelet." She cut her off. "I want to go. You want me gone. You want some common ground? Here it is."
Jill refrained from showing her surprise. Somehow that determined and stubborn woman was more difficult to deal with than the frantic and frightened one she met this morning. But she could see it, the cracks in her composed façade. She was still frightened, gripping her hostage's shirt too tightly, frequently shifting her weight from one leg to the other. It was just a matter of time now. And Jillian was known for her patience.
"It's not that simple and you know it." She made a small step forward, leaving Marco's side.
"Of course it is! Hand over my belongings and I'll free…" She stopped midsentence, focusing on the pirate. She stared blankly into nothingness before blinking several time. "I'll free Barton from the Twelfth Division here." She nudged him.
Shock was painted on the pirate's face. "How did you—"
She didn't answer and Jill couldn't afford to get distracted. She made another step forward. "I can't do that until I have the assurance my crewmember is safe. Let Barton go first."
Fenrir made a step back, surprised and uncomfortable. "What? No! I can't trust a pirate's words. This guy is currently my only leverage!"
The doctor shook her head. "I told you. If we wanted to, Barton would be free and you would be neutralized by now. But that's not how we want things to go. Come on Fenrir, let him go." Another step thudding on the wooden floor.
"Why should I?"
The brown-haired woman took a calm breath. Now was the time. "Because you had all the time and opportunities to hurt him and yet you didn't. You're feeling forced to act threateningly in order to be heard. Well, I heard you. And I'm telling you, you're safe here. We won't harm you. I'll give you your bracelet. All you have to do is let Barton go back to his family." With each sentences she moved forward. Step after step. And Fenrir moved equally back, until her hip made contact with hard wood and she was forced to stop her slow retreat.
Not losing eye contact with Jillian, she explored that surface with one of her bare foot. She pictured the railing. No more escape then. Unless she was only left with the extreme measure of jumping overboard. But now more than ever she wasn't feeling up to it. Her legs were aching and so was the hand griping Barton's shirt. She wouldn't last long in those tumultuous waters.
Maybe it was because she was tired or because one seastone bracelet was definitely not enough to neutralize her power or maybe her bare feet had been pressing against the railing for too long but images and sounds flooded her mind.
Something warm and compassionate, blossomed in her chest. Laughs, cheers, running footsteps, clinking glasses. Dangling legs and a warm wind. "Since you're joining our crew, I think we should be friends!" A hunched and bruised back against the thick wooden planks. "Because he calls us his sons!"
Unwanted tears pooled at the corner of her brown eyes. "Family?" she muttered, as if the word in itself was a daydream. Her feet found the floor once again and she blinked. What was she doing? Who was she fooling?
"J-just go already!" She pushed the pirate forward as the scalpel clattered on the wooden deck.
Hands were to her face and there she was. On her own. Facing angry pirates. What now? She shivered. Her tiredness finally reached her brain and she staggered, reaching the railing for support. A dizzy spell and it felt like her fingers were burning.
"Stop!" Raging thunder, blades rattling, pained screams. Was she still on Whitebeard's ship?
Relief washed over Jill as Fenrir had finally freed Barton. Her crewmember had returned safely to his division's crewmates. Now she just had to show that woman everything was okay. She could still feel Marco's tension behind her. Haruta, Thatch and Vista were managing the crowd of pirates, trying to send most of them back to their initial duties. Her captain had finally gave into his curiosity and was overlooking the scene from the upper deck, Izo by his sides, gun still in his hand.
She expected Fenrir to be afraid, bewildered and deeply apologising by now but when she looked back at the white-haired woman she seemed completely out of it. She had grown paler and was clearing shivering. Her hand was gripping the railing and she was staring into nothingness once again, but whatever she was seeing wasn't good. She kept muttering something but Jillian was too far to hear it properly. And… Was the air rippling around her?
"Fenrir?" She grew worried by the minute and approached her. "You hear me?"
"Jillian." Marco called her, wariness in his tone. He surely had noticed something was off too. But she raised a hand toward him. It was fine.
"Fenrir?" The woman was still unresponsive but now she could hear what she was muttering, laboured breath and tears rolling down her face: "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…"
The joints of the hand griping the railing were turning white. Jill lost no time and took Fenrir's hand off it. No need to be a psychic to understand her powers were somehow linked to her sense of touch.
The air stopped fluttering around them as a strong gust of wind shook their hair.
She felt Jillian's strong grip on her forearm and her voice reached her ringing ears. "Fenrir, calm down. You're safe here. Calm down." She blinked several times finally seeing the wooden deck again.
She felt the wetness on her cheeks and the strain of breathing. And the characteristic itching of her ears. She couldn't stop herself. She knew already and yet… Reaching for her ears, she felt the fur and their pointy shape. A sob wracked her body.
And once again she gave in. All things considered, she didn't mind begging if it sent all of this away. "I can't control it. Please, I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want to see anything. I only want to make it stop," she said crying, looking at her shaking hands. Straightening her head, she looked at Jill. "Please. Make it stop."
The doctor didn't even need to be asked. She quickly reached for the seastone bracelet in her pocket and put it in the palm of Fenrir's hand. She grew up on an island known for extracting seastone from underwater deposits, some of the cobbled streets of her village were even made out of seastone like most of her jewels, and yet she could only imagine what it felt to be weakened by such a stone.
For most of Devil Fruit's users it looked like a nuisance, from a mere exhaustion to a downright helplessness. But Fenrir's face relaxed when her fingers tightened around the bracelet until it disappeared inside her fist. She looked like she was relishing in the drain she was feeling. And that's exactly what Fenrir was feeling. She was still standing, shivering, silently crying, but the emptiness she felt made her chest heaved with relief. At last, at last. Alone with myself again.
She could think more clearly now, realising the extent of the mess she made. She suddenly felt shy and ashamed. And afraid. Wondering what those Whitebeards' pirates would do to her now. The doctor said they meant no harm but could she trust those pirates? Trust was such a meaningless word.
Her hand holding the bracelet started to throb. She struggled a bit but finally tied it to her bare wrist, clutching it for comfort.
Jill was glad to see the woman was calming down. The Moby's deck was mostly silent now, and far less crowded than earlier. She felt Marco coming closer. Fenrir finally raised her head and met her gaze, eyes still watering.
"I'm… I'm sorry." She sounded sincere. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Shitty Mythical Zoan," she muttered.
"Wait? You're a Mythical yoi?"
She nodded. "And a failed one at that." She chuckled bitterly.
"What? How—" She shook her head this time.
"I just want what's left of my belongings and then I'll go." She sniffed, wiping the cold tear tracks on her cheeks.
"Okay," said Jill soothingly. If Fenrir wasn't shivering as badly as before she was now getting fidgety.
"I've been here too long. I shouldn't stop moving. They might have found me already." She gave a look on the horizon.
"They? Who are they?"
"Marines." Her declaration was met with silence and curious stares. "It's a long story that I don't want to tell."
"Deserter?" Marco was now standing by Jill's side. He needed to know. To quench his interest. To be sure they weren't letting a wolf in the sheepfold. Even if his brothers weren't the whitest sheeps.
"Escapee," she answered seriously, meeting his gaze. The silence stretched for a bit before a laugh echoed. Thatch was by Marco's side, casually leaning on his shoulder, a wide grin on his face.
Of course it could not have been that easy. She could not just go that way.
"You're aboard a pirate ship, lady," the brown-haired man – ah, the weird haircut – said. "There's no safer place to hide from the Marine!"
At the woman's dumbfounded expression, Jill smiled an indulgent smile. "Why don't you stay with us for a bit?"
"What? No!"
"Fenrir, you're exhausted." She was indeed feeling rather tired. Guess the doctor had a point.
"You went through a lot in a matter of hours, and like it or not you're currently in no shape to go back to the sea on your own. Let alone with that paddleboat of yours." She gestured toward the yellow embarkation. "For now you need rest and a bit more of some proper medical care."
Okay, several points it was… "But why can't you simply drop me off on the next island?"
Marco shook his head. "We're heading toward an important meeting and we'll be there in three weeks. We just stocked up on the last island we visited so the next stop has been planned in two weeks, yoi. We can't reroute our ship for you or we'll be late on our schedule. Yet…"
"You're Whitebeard's guest until our next stop," said Whitebeard intervened, going down the upper deck's stairs. He looked her in the eye, silently daring her to say otherwise, before resuming his walk toward his massive wooden chair when she said nothing. Yeah, the Captain definitely liked making such outstanding entrance.
What an intimidating man, Fenrir thought. But something was bothering her sluggish mind. "You set me up from the very beginning uh?"
"What if we did?" Jillian wondered, unabashed. Fenrir shook her head, a small smile grazing her lips. "Come now!"
Fenrir was about to move when the man aiming at her earlier, apparently a cross-dresser, went down the stairs too, showing the wobbling paddleboat. "We'll have to get rid of that. Way too noticeable."
"We're sailing on a gigantic whale-shaped ship, Izo." Marco said.
"Yes. Indeed. But it's clashing with Moby's style!"
Fenrir shrugged while following Jillian through the door leading to the sickbay.
"I stole it anyway."
A/N: I've been living with this story for almost a year now, struggling to put words on it. This is only the first part and I have most of the ideas for the second one already but I probably won't write it now. I need a fresh start! And it begins… Today. :)
But for now, I'll go editing all the typos and mistakes I've found in the previous OS while rereading them.
Thanks for popping by.
Take care of yourselves,
Lily.
Edit (29/08/20) : Minor correcting, no ideas for a full part two yet but I'll be working on it.