AN-I really hope you enjoy.

-Part 1-

-XX-

-Then-

Doflamingo stared down at his flickering shadow. Around him were the sounds of footsteps, metal scraping against metal as Mihawk's shaky hands tried to unlock the front door of his car. He let his fingers sink into cool hills. If he concentrated hard enough he could count each little granule. His shadow was fading. The fire was dying out.

"Doflamingo, get up!"

He looked down helplessly at his hidden hands. Sand was shifting in the directions of fingers opening and closing underneath soft piles. He pushed his arms in deeper and let his wrists get sucked in.

"I need your help!"

Doflamingo looked over his shoulder and saw Mihawk staring back at him. Underneath him was Crocodile, still quiet and still soaked in blood. Doflamingo averted his stare, making sure to avoid the face. It was a mess. His stomach turned with what little food it had inside when he thought about the face.

"Get up, we need to go to the hospital."

Doflamingo struggled to lift himself up from his sandy pit. His legs would not stop shaking. He was cold, practically shivering in misery, but felt sweat run down his neck. He held on to himself as he took small steps over to Mihawk, his eyes looking up higher as he passed Crocodile's limp, long legs.

"I'm going to put him in the back," Mihawk said. At some point Mihawk had stopped crying. He didn't sound so whiny like a frightened child. He didn't even sound a little scared. Doflamingo was impressed. He was envious. Once again, he was jealous.

"What do I do?" he asked.

"Get in the back with him. Keep his head lifted up, and try to stop the bleeding," was the dreaded answer.

"Oh," he muttered. Doflamingo did not want to share the same space as Crocodile.

"Help me carry him." Doflamingo wondered what had changed since Mihawk had the gun pointed at him. He still listened to Mihawk, following his orders and carefully hoisting up Crocodile by the underarms. Even with Mihawk carry his legs Doflamingo could barely hold up the weight. Maybe it was the arms. The arms just hung there, swaying without order as the two of them carried a half-dead body to the car. Or maybe it was the head. Crocodile's head just lay to the side of wherever gravity seemed strongest.

Doflamingo stopped once he felt the back of his legs touch the opening to the passenger door. Once his leg bumped against the fabric interior he heard a weak, wet sounding cough come from Crocodile. Both he and Mihawk looked down at the limp body. When Crocodile didn't make another sound Mihawk told Doflamingo to get in the car. From there it would be up to him to pull Crocodile in while Mihawk cleaned up the scene.

He did not want to be in a car with a dying person. He did not want to be trapped in an unfamiliar space with someone he cared about, watching them bleed out from their face, the only other opening being a dirty window to look through. But Doflamingo was in the car and Crocodile was in there with him, head resting against Doflamingo's heaving chest. Even in the darkness Doflamingo could make out the gnarled looking mess on Crocodile's face, the coagulating, lumpy collection of blood, sand and hair sticking to drier spots.

If he concentrated hard enough Doflamingo was sure he could hear small breathes entering and exiting Crocodile parted mouth. He swallowed and wondered if Crocodile could breath through the nose, or if that was also beyond repair. His eyes went back to the lips. The thin beautiful lips were now caked in blood and sand. Several minutes prior Doflamingo could remember staring up at the face, wanting to compliment it and gaze at it forever.

He pulled down the window and looked out to see where Mihawk was.

"Hey. Hey, Mihawk!"

In a second what little light there was from the fire was snuffed out. Doflamingo stared out into the dark landscape, forced only to rely on the sounds of sand moving around. He thought about it and figured Mihawk must be burying the gun. He waited a few more seconds, his arms sinking down and pulling up Crocodile's soaked shirt, perhaps unintentionally as he figured the man needed to keep his head lifted up, and maybe he thought pulling the shirt would result in the rest of the body following.

He gave up trying to see through a window that looked out in the opposite direction of where the clean up was taking place. Once Doflamingo put the rest of his self back in the car he was rewarded with the terrifying, but still somewhat inviting scenery of a bare chest. Oddly enough it wasn't the developed figure of an adult male that had Doflamingo glued to it. No, it was the breathing. Doflamingo could feel himself becoming fixated on every small movement coming from Crocodile exposed flesh, each stretching of skin, twist, twitch and shake a reminder to him that Crocodile was still alive. He could not pull himself away.

He felt the car shake. Doflamingo gazed over and saw the driver's door pull open. Mihawk entered, looking exhausting, but still retaining a strange, calm composure.

"Hold on to him," Mihawk said as he readied the engine.

This time Doflamingo held on to Crocodile. He felt his teeth chatter from the multitude of heavy vibrations as Mihawk did what he could to navigate through the unforgiving terrain. The desert was filled with rocks, hills, wondrous prickly flora; all of which would destroy any chance the two of them had to save Crocodile should any contact be made.

Doflamingo held his breath as he tried to mentally push away the growing nausea from the driving. He buried his head into Crocodile's neck, closing his eyes and wishing for his sunglasses and bicycle. He wrapped his arms tightly around Crocodile's thick frame, more out of comfort than for Crocodile's sake. He felt the warm skin against his hands and blushed. He grew disgusted with himself.

"We're almost out of the desert."

Doflamingo gave a nod even though Mihawk wasn't paying attention. He lifted his head a little, just enough for him to look down at the rest of Crocodile's exposed chest. He noticed right away that the breathing had quickened, had become more shallow.

He heard a moan. Doflamingo yanked himself away from Crocodile neck. His hands frantically began to pull down the shirt as he heard another moan, this one longer and containing a few cracks on the voice.

"Mihawk!" Doflamingo called. "Mihawk, he's waking up!"

"Fuck…calm him down."

Calm down a man whose face was torn in half? Doflamingo would have certainly made a remark regarding Mihawk's lack of intelligence, but the another cry from beneath him had him desperate for a solution. "H-how?" he asked.

Mihawk kept his eyes straight ahead. Doflamingo felt a new hatred reignite for Mihawk when he saw the older boys head lower, his shoulder coming up to a slow shrug.

"…I see the road," was all Mihawk could say for himself.

Underneath his hands Doflamingo could feel a chest exploding with quick breathes of oxygen. He heard another cough; dry. He looked down and could see the head lifting up, more groaning slowly breaking through ruined lips.

He caught the sight of eyelids fluttering. Almost immediately following this was a cry. Doflamingo grabbed on to Crocodile's jerking body, watching with wide eyes at thrashing legs while his head pressed against Crocodile's back. Even through Crocodile was reeling in pain Doflamingo somehow managed to catch the sounds of his and Crocodile's hearts rapidly beating.

"Crocodile, relax," Mihawk stated in the most timely matter. By this point the ride had gotten smoother. They were out of the desert, but not out of harms way. One of the other many things Doflamingo remembered hearing that night was the engine. They were going incredibly fast.

Crocodile didn't seem to appreciate this. The first words that came from his mouth were swears. Then screams. Then more cries. Then more swearing, but this time it was worse.

"Fuck!" Doflamingo watched arms frantically wave about in the car. It reminded him of a trapped cat trying to scratch its way out of a cage. Crocodile screamed again, this time lowering his hands closer to his face, but not quite touching it.

"Your face is cut," Doflamingo said. Crocodile groaned, shaking his head. "Don't touch it!" Doflamingo added.

"Doflamingo?" Crocodile did not sound well.

"We're going to the hospital."

Crocodile shook his head again. "No! No…where are we?"

"In the car," Doflamingo said. "We need to go to the hospital–"

"No! No, we cannot go to the hospital!" Crocodile grabbed hold of his face, hissing and fighting through the pain as he examined the damage that had been done to him. Doflamingo could see the growing white of his eyes as Crocodile realized just how much of a "cut" he had, reassessing the situation through closed whines. "I can't go! I can't…"

"Doflamingo, hold on to him!"

"Don't worry, we'll come up with a story," Doflamingo said. He figured Crocodile had to be afraid. Nobody liked going to see the doctors, especially after nearly killing their friends. "We'll just lie, like you wanted. There's nothing to worry about."

Crocodile shook his head a final time, more slowly and with far less energy than before. "No…no…" He muttered. Doflamingo felt a sudden jerk pulling his arms. He let go of Crocodile and watched the young man dry heave once, twice, then lowering his head to the side and, with a final heave, vomit all over the interior. Then he went limp again.

Mihawk looked down at the bottom of the car's fabric, a large scowl appearing on his face as the sight and smell hit him.

"At least he passed out," Doflamingo said, grabbing hold of Crocodile and trying to pull him back up in his weakened embrace.

"Great," Mihawk muttered. "He's in shock and now I got puke in my car."

Doflamingo stared out the front window and could see something red up ahead. He freaked. "Mihawk, stop!"

"What?" Mihawk turned his head back to the road and stared at the car just several feet away from them. At the speed they were going the only option to save the three from a very certain death was to hit the breaks, hard.

Doflamingo held on to the seatbelt with one hand and, perhaps out of morbid curiosity, wondered what would happen to him if either he or Crocodile did die. (Mihawk was out of the equation of thought.) But in the second it took for the hand that held on to Crocodile to temporarily let go and slip he did think about how strange it might have been. Or how sad, because even though he and Crocodile had their differences he didn't want Crocodile to die. Like any other mammal on this great big planet he felt a great sadness when he thought about his death, the lack of him existing. Like any other human he couldn't help but list out all the things he had failed to accomplish. When sex came to mind, as it would in a frightened virgin's mind, he brought himself to consider the regret he felt when he had kissed Crocodile while he slept, and running away. He wondered what might have happened if he had been slower, woke Crocodile up, and continued onward from there. By this point the brain was sure it was going to die so a rush of endorphins hit Doflamingo and from this point onward until his hand had slipped down Crocodile's body Doflamingo's mind wandered away from theoretical to just plain erotically fantastical.

But the hand slipped, and since Doflamingo was only holding on to a seatbelt, the rest of him quickly followed suite. At the very last moment Doflamingo grabbed on to the upholstery lining the car seats, just barely saving himself and Crocodile, who was now lying right underneath him, from flying out of a window.

He stared out, not at anything really, but stared, blinking widely as several shots worth of adrenaline kicked up a storm in his stomach. He understood why Crocodile had vomited.

"Is Crocodile ok?" he heard Mihawk ask.

Doflamingo scowled, having half the mind to force a finger down his throat and do the deed, were it not for overly shaky hands now tucked underneath him. Also, his arm burned with an incredible pain.

"I'm fine, thanks."

"Is he still breathing or not?"

Doflamingo internally screamed out a few choice words before remembering that he was now on top of Crocodile. The arm that held on to the seatbelt would not lift him up; any attempt resulted in a stinging ache that ran up his shoulder and into his back. The other, he noticed, was in somewhere it ought not to be. Doflamingo felt a rush of heat as he moved a finger, feeling the fabric of worn out jeans, moving just a little closer to a certain desired spot. He smiled. No, wait. He was too high now. Doflamingo paused, unsure of how he could have screwed up so badly at that part of the human anatomy. He crept his hand down. Yes. No. Wait, what was going on? Too low? No, impossible.

"Doflamingo!"

"Y-yeah, he's fine." Doflamingo stuttered out. He freed his arm and lifted himself up as Mihawk began driving again, this time at a more reasonable speed.

For some reason Doflamingo found that he was scooting away from Crocodile. He wasn't sure why. He knew he obviously had made some mistake. It was dark. Crocodile wore a lot of dark clothes. The pants were not loose, but they had enough space for things to move around.

But! He knew things couldn't move around that much. Not even if he went commando.

His head ached.

"Hold on to him." Mihawk ordered.

Doflamingo wiped his face and removed some of the dried mixture of blood and sand that had smeared on him. He looked at it and told himself this was the reason why his heart was now beating so hard against his chest. The shock was now starting to get to him. He wasn't thinking straight. Even his senses were off!

Doflamingo concluded this personal thought when he heard another moan being uttered from Crocodile. He looked down and saw Crocodile curling up on his side, holding on to his stomach in half-consciousness. Doflamingo could feel it. There was a distant feeling. A growing gap.

Another groan. A cry.

"We're almost at the hospital," Doflamingo said.

Crocodile lifted up his shaking head, and Doflamingo could see that the layer of blood and sand that had caked on him had been the only prevention from new blood spilling. He stared at the worn out expression, gold eyes with fading energy, falling apart as life continued to pour out from between the gap.

Crocodile parted his lips, ready to mouth the word "no."

Doflamingo spoke up first. "You're bleeding. Everywhere. There's blood everywhere."


Doflamingo sat on the white hospital bed that had been assigned to him. He rubbed his shoulder, trying to sooth the dull ache after having his arm relocated back into the socket.

The emergency room was a painfully sterile white color that nearly blinded Doflamingo. He longed for sunglasses. He held on to his arm as he surveyed his private little space, a curtain shrouding him from his unknown neighbors. He could hear nurses and doctors and beeping and steps, but could not make out Mihawk's voice amongst the other sounds. Without much else to do Doflamingo considered leaving his bed and wander around until he found the older teen. The only thing stopping him was a form of instinctual nervousness brought up something he couldn't understand. He wasn't sure what it could have been. He knew Mihawk would be the only person that might know where and how Crocodile was, but for some reason the though of him leaving his curtain fortress made him unbearable scared.

He didn't have to worry about leaving. The curtain flung open to the side and there stood Mihawk. Doflamingo grimaced at the sight of Mihawk. He wasn't sure when it happened, but there was a bruise on the young man's forehead. He looked absolutely miserable to see him.

"Do you know if your parents will be ok picking you up?" Mihawk asked.

"Assuming they haven't called the cops already, no," Doflamingo answered.

"Do you have any friends that can pick you up?"

The first came Pica, since Pica knew how to keep a secret. His parents were overly religious but had a way of sweetening things up with their kind words. But there was something that still irked him. He still wanted to know where Crocodile was, and with Mihawk standing in front of him, it made little sense for him to now ask.

"Where is he?"

"He's supposed to be in surgery right now," Mihawk replied.

"Surgery?"

"They have to clean him up," Mihawk responded in his ever-usual stoic tone. Doflamingo could hear just how not nervous Mihawk was when saying this. Things must be ok, and he was obviously overreacting to events that were most likely unreliable due to his own mental status at the time. "But he wont be able to leave until they get ahold of his mother."

"And you…?"

"Calling my mother," Mihawk responded, "to check Crocodile and I out." He looked out beyond the curtain, to see if anyone was listening before continuing, "I lied and told them we were related."

Doflamingo could feel his chapped lips curl inward into his mouth. "You know," he said, "he tried to kill you."

"He gets emotional," Mihawk replied. "We all do."

"You would have died if I didn't push him aside," Doflamingo added.

Mihawk frowned, "are you asking me to thank you?"

"I'm wondering why you're so eager to help out the guy who had a gun pointed at you."

Mihawk grabbed some of the curtain behind him, his eyes wandering the floor as he thought up something to say.

"Don't tell me he wouldn't have pulled the trigger," Doflamingo said. "I'm pretty he would. There was nothing stopping him at that point."

"And emotional response. I could have argued my way out."

"Bullshit," Doflamingo spat out. "Where the hell is his room gonna be? I need to talk to him."

Mihawk lifted his stare. "You can't see him tonight. My mom will take us home and you can see him in a few days, when he's all better."

"He almost died."

"Be reasonable, Doflamingo," Mihawk said.

Doflamingo shook his head. "He almost died. I have to see him."

"You can see him later."

"No, I can't," Doflamingo muttered. He stared up at Mihawk with defiant eyes. "I spent several months avoiding him. And the one time I do see him I almost get you killed. What if I hadn't shown up? None of this would have happened." He took a deep breath, feeling his throat shake. He fought the urge to feel sorry for himself and continued, "I can't believe this. I still want to be with him. I want him to like me so bad. All it took was me seeing him and everything just falls apart. How pathetic. Everyone back home thinks I'm amazing, but I'm in love with an asshole that couldn't care less about me."

"Crocodile cares," Mihawk said. It was a failed attempt to make Doflamingo feel better. "He talked about you while you were away…"

"Whatever…You wouldn't believe how much fun I had while I was away," Doflamingo said, his head starting to ache. "All the trouble I got into. But I saw Crocodile and I couldn't help myself. And now I think I'm growing crazy because back in the car all these strange thoughts kept getting in my head. I have to see him, just one more time. I have to tell him I'm sorry. I have to promise him he'll never see me again. Or maybe I should just tell him I'm some bisexual that's had the hots for him for years, and once he's done kicking my ass I'll maybe have learned my lesson and stay away."

Mihawk stood silent in awe. After a few seconds Doflamingo watched the older boy approach his bed. Doflamingo scooted over; staring out at the passerby's as Mihawk sat next to him, quiet. The two remained seated, neither willing to add on from the previous confession.

He felt a hand hesitantly touch his shoulder.

"Thanks for showing up," Mihawk said.

Doflamingo lowered his head.

"I mean it. Because even though I almost died tonight…I mean, I might have if I didn't already have things under control, odds were someone else would have died. And there was no way Crocodile would have gotten away with it," Mihawk said in one breath.

Doflamingo felt his eyes lower. He asked, "who?"

Mihawk sighed.

"Yeah, you're not going to tell me," Doflamingo said. "Even though I never said a word about tonight. And I never will. But for some reason I don't deserve to know why Crocodile had a gun in his hands and was talking about killing someone." He faked a laugh and jumped off the bed. "This is why I can't hang out with you or Crocodile. You're both so full of shit."

"You wouldn't understand," Mihawk said.

"And what makes you think that?" Doflamingo asked.

Mihawk frowned. "Crocodile told me himself. You can't. You won't. You're just too selfish."


Doflamingo sat outside in the waiting room. He felt sick and weary, but he supposed it was more a result of being surrounded by ailing people than feeling betrayed.

He looked over at Mihawk, who had finished calling his mother and was now busy talking to a nurse. Out of kindness (thought pity seemed more likely) Mihawk decided to have his mother also check Doflamingo out as well. He had construed a powerful lie retelling the night's adventures. Something like this would only work at a strange hospital. Doflamingo swung his legs as he waited to hear more news about Crocodile.

He concluded that it was better that he never find out Crocodile's true motives. Never understanding Crocodile meant they could never be close again, and Doflamingo needed to make sure it stayed that way. Mihawk had told him to speak his peace once Crocodile was feeling better, and while Doflamingo knew exactly what he wanted to say, there was still that thought that had bothered him. He grabbed the chairs handles. He looked around the room. What was it about that scene that made so little sense to him? Why couldn't he find it?

Doflamingo stood up and walked past several long lines of upset patients-to-be, walking right up to Mihawk as soon as the nurse walked off.

"Is he out of surgery or what?" Doflamingo asked.

"Yes, he is," Mihawk said.

"Can we see him?" Doflamingo asked.

Mihawk groaned. "He's not even awake."

"I want to see how he looks." He planted a frown on his face, his eyes opening just a little more to give his self a guilt stricken look.

Mihawk looked over at the double doors. "I'm pretty sure his face is bandaged," he muttered.

"Doesn't matter," Doflamingo said. He was beginning to feel anxious. What was it about that memory that was so strange? Why couldn't he feel it?

"Fine. Go ahead," Mihawk replied. "I have to write out everything that happened. I guess they don't believe everything I'm saying."

The last thing Doflamingo needed right now were police questioning him and Mihawk about the accident. He wasn't sure if he was willing to save either Crocodile or Mihawk right now. God, Crocodile. What was going on?

"You and Crocodile don't really look related," he remarked, a smiling growing on his face. "What room is he in?"

Mihawk paled. He looked nervous. "He's in 113A." Mihawk grabbed Doflamingo by the shoulder and pulled him close. "Look, he just got out of surgery. So if you see a nurse or a doctor in his room, leave. Don't bother them or assume that there's something wrong. Just come back."

"You sound incredibly suspicious right now," Doflamingo said.

"I'm tired. I want to go home. I don't want you freaking out because you overheard a doctor checking on his face or something…" Mihawk let go of Doflamingo. "My mom is on her way. We'll be leaving soon. Crocodile will probably get picked up tomorrow or the day after. For the love of god, don't ask a nurse if we can take him home now."

Doflamingo walked off right as Mihawk prayed for him to not go asking about Crocodile's release date. He skipped through the double doors, earning a few looks from passerby nurses. His shoulder still ached but it wasn't enough to deter him from taking as much space as he could. He walked through the long hallway, his body eating up what little painkillers he had in his system, his arms swinging furiously, and with added energy whenever a young female nurse walked by, while he looked up at numbered resting rooms.

There was something so incredibly sterile in the air; a plastic smell and taste that made Doflamingo want to gag. Hospitals were not as clean as they claimed to be, but something about this ward made him feel as though he had been doused in alcohol.

Other than the sounds of nurses and doctors moving and talking, the taunting echoes of machines recording hearts and vitals, there would be absolute silence.

Doflamingo stopped and stared at the two nurses looking into the thirteenth room. One had a look of curiosity, the other nurse looked absolutely furious. They stood there, just feet away from the room Doflamingo wanted to go into, staring with certain unease. He had to move to the far left in order to understand what was going on. There was another nurse inside the room. Why on earth were these other two nurses were watching him with such strange looks? What did the nurse do?

He waited at a safe distance, careful to not look lost or too observant in case another medical staff member decided to kick him out. When the third left the room he watched the other two nurses swarm the third, drowning him with a load of words that Doflamingo couldn't make out. When they walked off Doflamingo went ahead and walked into the room.

Doflamingo's first complaint was how cold the room was. How were people supposed to get better in such cold rooms? He held on to himself, right arm delicately rubbing against the left shoulder, as he approached the bed.

Oh, Crocodile looked terrible. What a surprise. And yet, Doflamingo was surprised. He knew exactly what he had gotten himself into, but somehow had the nerve to let his eyes go wide in terror, his lips tremble with animal fear, his legs fighting to turn around and forget what he had just seen. Beyond this was some morbid curiosity. Doflamingo saw the face covered up and wanted to know what lay underneath. He wanted to peel away the white fabric bandages and stare at what he assumed would be terrifying stitching across the young man's face. He wanted to touch it. Pull at the stiches, laugh and be grateful it was Crocodile and not he.

The third feeling was something else that made him continue to move forward. He watched Crocodile's chest slowly move upward and down, watched the barely visible eyelids twitch with dreamlike movement, body so still and exposed.

He grabbed the only chair available and dragged it close to the bed. As he sat down Doflamingo's eyes rested on the covered legs. What remained of Crocodile's clothes was folded on top of a small table. Doflamingo knew he could just tear off the thin bed cover and put himself back at ease.

"Wake up," Doflamingo ordered. He flicked a finger at the covered face, hoping the pain from contact would be enough to spark an awakening. Doflamingo growled when he saw the tubes leading to Crocodile's left wrist.

"If I pinch it tightly enough," he said to the unconscious teen, "will you wake up? Will it hurt?" He walked over to the other side, eyes still locked on long legs. He stared at the bag hanging above, filled with clear liquid. He grabbed the tube and bent it, twisted it, pinched it with his dry fingers.

"Tell me I'm crazy," he muttered. "Tell me I'm such a sicko I can't help but imagine these strange things. I need help. You need help too, but I need it more."

He stopped playing with the tube after a few minutes. He wasn't getting the reaction he wanted. This time he leaned over Crocodile, his face just above the older teens. He could see, at the very edge of the bandage covering those unknown stitches, the hint of red. He flared his nostrils, hoping to catch the scent of blood, but was disappointed when he was only further intoxicated with the plastic stench.

"I kissed you," he whispered into Crocodile's ear. "You couldn't stop me. I sorta wished you did though. Maybe I wouldn't be here right now."

Somehow Crocodile was starting to look ok. Doflamingo couldn't explain it, but the bandages didn't seem so bad.

"Or maybe," he added, "Maybe we'd work something out. Maybe you like guys too. Girls are real snobs. They think they can do whatever they want without consequence. You're too good for that. You wouldn't trouble yourself with a girl."

His eyes locked on to Crocodile's limp hand. Without a second thought he grabbed it, feeling the familiar contours of the left hand. He flipped it over and touched the thin, white line: the remains of a scar.

"I'd be ok," he muttered. Who was I talking to? "I'd figure something out. I would try not to be a lousy boyfriend." He took in a loud breath of air. "I think we might have had a lot of fun. I don't think it would have lasted for too long, but I think it would have been a nice relationship…"

His right hand holding Crocodile's: the left hand he could feel traveling along cool bed sheets. His heart was racing as he rubbed Crocodile's old scar for comfort. It hardly did a thing.

"Why did you cut yourself?" he asked. "You might have not known how to hold a knife…but this is ridiculous. It's too long, so thin…I bet that must have really hurt. Why did you do that?" It was just too long. Holding a knife the wrong way for just a second would result in something far smaller.

"Why do you keep so many secrets from me?"

No tears, remember? His eyes did ache from emotional irritation.

"You were never really sick, were you?"

His right hand went further. He let go of the hand, only staring down at Crocodile as he let his hand slide up a leg, go down, and reach the critical point. He ignored the warmth, the many different opportunities and let his hand slide inward.

…oh.

It took only a few seconds for Doflamingo to completely process what was there. A strong, graphic image came to mind, but once again there was something wrong. He yanked his hand away.

"W-what?" Doflamingo held on to the freed hand. His mind raced around in circles, trying to make sense of what he had felt.

He hadn't imagined it. Oh, no, no, no! This didn't make any sense! He was suspicious for a reason though! But it still didn't make sense! This did not make any sense!

Doflamingo grabbed Crocodile by the neckline, lifting him up by just an inch or so.

"You're. A." He bit his chapped lip until he could feel blood leak from it. His head ached.

"Boy?"

He looked down the gap created by his pulling and could see Crocodile's developed chest. That was not a woman's chest. It wasn't a girl's chest.

It wasn't enough. It made no sense!

He let Crocodile go. Doflamingo paced about the room, his breathing becoming unorganized as he glanced over and over at Crocodile. He could detect movement coming from the bed. He panicked. He didn't understand what he was sharing the room with. What was it?

Crocodile did not look like a girl. He did not act like a girl.

Could he have made the same mistake twice?

He heard a soft groan. Doflamingo stopped moving and watched the body in the bed twist and turn in discomfort. Out of impulse he approached the bed, his eyes still frantically roaming the room in an attempt to free his mind from what had just happened. He wiped his bottom lip before touching Crocodile's shaking hand.

For some reason all Doflamingo could feel was disgust when he let Crocodile's hand latch on to his. He wanted nothing more than to pull away and free him self from it. Something enticed him not to. Something strange. Something secretive. It did nothing for the pain in his chest though. It was a personal agony to watch Crocodile fight to keep his eyes open, staring up at him with the look of a lost child.

It was rude to stare, but nothing could stop Doflamingo from looking right into Crocodile's eyes and testing to see whether or not those were really the eyes of a man. The hand holding on to him was no longer trembling. It was growing stronger.

"You're bleeding." It's voice was hoarse.

How cruel.

"A-am I?"

Doflamingo licked his lip, tasting fresh new blood. His eyes could not move away. He could feel it, that tug that made him contemplate whether it would be safe to leave a sick Crocodile alone, wearing a jacket on a summer day, without water, in a desert. His conscious pointed to a particular scene, answering whether or not Crocodile had really been sick, or if it was something else?

The brain asked; why do we take iron pills?

Doflamingo felt himself frown at the answer.

It asked again; what happened when a child carries more than half a dozen of them, and has admitted to already taking a few?

And now everything makes sense. Every. Little. Thing.

It was a mistake to stare. This time, however, it was on Doflamingo. He felt Crocodile pull his hand away. Doflamingo felt a horrid, cold sting run up his arm, causing him to jump back. Suddenly he could see gold eyes glaring at him, a covered face most likely holding a sneer.

He knew. He knew he knew.

Doflamingo looked over at the exit. His arm ached terribly so he grabbed hold of it, rubbing it frantically in hope of easing the sharp stabbing sensation.

He heard nervous laughter. Doflamingo turned and looked down at Crocodile. He had covered himself up in the bed sheet.

"Crocodile?"

"Leave." It sounded shaky. It didn't matter how terrible a thing Crocodile was, Doflamingo knew he couldn't leave him now.

"I don't want to."

"Fuck off, faggot."

Doflamingo froze. "What did you call me?" he asked.

"You like to touch people when they're asleep?" More muffled, nervous, frantic laughter. Doflamingo could see the sheets tremble. "What a sicko."

He yelled. "Don't call me that!"

"Are you going to cry? Is the spoiled little prince going to cry because I hurt his feelings?" Crocodile had a way with making words sound a whole lot worse. Doflamingo could barely stand it.

"You shut the fuck up!"

Doflamingo stomped over and pulled at the sheets. Crocodile pulled back. The two of them fought, completely unaware that the many wires and tubes attached to Crocodile were setting the machines off, warning nurses outside of the room that something was off.

He managed to pull the sheets away, earning a chance to attack Crocodile. He could feel it. He wanted to make crocodile bleed. He wanted to kill him. But he felt arms and hands grab hold of him and pull him away from the bed. Doflamingo yelled, trying to shake them off. He could see Crocodile being held down by two more, staring at him with a torn expression. He watched a broken smile appear on Crocodile's face.

"Kuhahaha! See, you're crying! I knew it!" Crocodile laughed, pointing at Doflamingo's wet face.

Doflamingo went limp, letting the nurses pull him out of Crocodile's room. He could see he wasn't the only one in tears. Was Crocodile aware of how damaged he was? Was it denial?

He took a deep breath.

"Yeah, well, at least I Have A Dick!"

The last he saw before being pulled out was Crocodile grabbing hold of his self, rocking incessantly, face hidden between cruel, misleading legs.


AN-Yeah, well, ok. I'll be sure to update soon. Please feel free to leave comments or questions in the form of a review or PM. Everyone will be more into their character the next chapter.