-Part 2-
-Sunday Evening Crossing the Border -
-Now-
The phone rang.
Diamante grabbed his overstuffed backpack and slung it over his shoulders. Trebol hurried from room to room, trying to locate all of his dear possessions that he had scattered across the small apartment. Vergo stood by the front door, his dark shads barely covering his anxious character.
The phone rang again.
Doflamingo sat in the middle of the living room, hands cupped together as he stared down, not the least bit inspired to grab any personal belongings and leave his current life behind him.
It rang. Again. And again.
"Maybe we should pick up the phone," Vergo nervously remarked to Diamante.
The tall man twisted his fingers through his hair, looking down at Doflamingo, then over at the phone.
"Doffy?"
"I don't care," Doflamingo stated aloud. "Kaido has no reason to call yet. Odds are is another member asking about everyone's current state of panic."
Diamante sighed; walking over to the phone while Doflamingo continued to stare down at the floor.
He was so close. He had saved so much money. He had gotten so far!
Doflamingo wasn't sure what disappointed him the most. He would have to get all the money he had saved, in the safe and in the bank, and withdraw it before it was too late. He'd have to split the money between all his members depending on how much they had contributed. With what little he would have left he would use to go into hiding. If he were lucky none of Kaido's men would discover him. If he managed to sneak by he might survive the next five years.
"Sir?"
"Not now, Vergo," Doflamingo muttered disdainfully.
"Doffy, it's Pica," Diamante said.
Doflamingo raised his head up and stared directly at the phone in front of him. Hesitantly he took it in his hands and brought it to his ears, unsure of what might happen.
"Hello?" A high-pitched voice squeaked through the phone.
"Pica?" Doflamingo said. "What is it?"
"I'm with your subordinates," Pica said through the line. "We're following the girl to her headquarters."
"What?" Doflamingo asked. He stood up from the couch.
"What is it?" Diamante asked nervously.
"Your steampunk cosplayer was almost caught," Pica calmly stated. "But between the maid and I, we were able to handle the situation rather well. The girl doesn't suspect a thing at the moment."
"You…you're following her?" Doflamingo asked.
"Pica's following who?" Diamante asked.
"Shhh," Vergo said, approaching the two young men. "We need to let the two finish the conversation."
"You think this girl might be up to something bigger?" Doflamingo asked into the phone.
"We've seen girls getting rescued all the time back when I did missionary work," he heard Pica reply. "So far we've passed two hospitals, a church, and a police station. This woman isn't here to help your mules."
"Is she a native?"
"I think she's mixed," Pica responded. "From afar she does look a bit like the locals, but her nose and cheekbones have me thinking she has some Asian in her, maybe Native American. It doesn't rule out the Mexican cartel though."
Doflamingo began to pace about the room. He wasn't feeling any better about the situation, but at least he had an idea about what was going on. He was sure he could rely on Pica to further inform him on the situation, but…
"Do you think you can get the drugs?" he asked.
"I'm not sure," Pica replied. "But I can assure you that the three of us will figure out what is going on over here. Until then, whatever you do, don't go outside. Keep quiet."
"Pica," Doflamingo muttered into the phone.
"Yes, Doffy?"
"You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice again," Doflamingo said.
"It's good to hear from you and Diamante as well," Pica said. "I need to go. One of us will call you as soon as we have more information."
The call ended. Doflamingo lowered the phone from his face. He wanted to feel better, but there was no promise that he would get his precious cargo before Kaido started noticing something was off.
"Doffy?" he heard Diamante say behind him. "What did Pica say?"
"Sir," Vergo said, adding on to the conversation, "what did the third executive say?"
"Executive?" Trebol's voice suddenly entered the scene. "What's going on here? Why hasn't Doffy started packing yet?"
Doflamingo loudly exhaled. He knew he could rely on Pica helping him with discovering who was behind all of this. Doflamingo raised his head up. People had relied on his leadership, and so far he was about to get everyone killed. Doflamingo knew he couldn't fail so many of his friends, workers. And he had a goal he so desperately wanted to achieve.
"Vergo?" Doflamingo called.
"Yes?" the man asked, cautiously turning to his young leader.
"Get everyone and have them go to Ceasar's," Doflamingo said. "Have them make the product. Tell them to make as much as they possibly can in the next twenty-four hours."
"Whoa there," Trebol said, "you're going to try to remake the same batch?"
"I'm not making anything," Doflamingo responded. He took in a deep breath. "I'm going down there. I'm going to find Pica, and then I'm going to kill that woman and the shitstain she works for."
"Holy shit," Diamante muttered. "You serious about this?"
"Yes," Doflamingo said. "We promised Kaido some good shit, and I'll be godamn if he doesn't get it. But until then we'll have no choice but to settle for less. We'll send him everything we have so far."
"So…"
"You, Trebol, everyone. I need you all to do this for me until I get can get down there and rendezvous with Pica," Doflamingo said. He walked over to the living room, Vergo trailing behind him.
"Doflamingo," Vergo called. "How are we going to transport all of this?"
He stopped. Doflamingo could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He knew there was only one way out of this, and it pained him so much to even think about it.
"We use the money we saved up," Doflamingo said coldly. "First class. All the way."
"What?!" Trebol yelled. "But…Doffy, you told us–"
"I can't risk dreams for the safety of our lives," Doflamingo snapped. "You don't want to die do you? And by a real warlord?"
Trebol shook his head.
"Good, then you'll all do as I say," the blond said. "Stay behind and wait for Pica to call. When he does inform him of the situation and have him call me on my cellphone." Doflamingo looked to Vergo. "Vergo…I'm going to have to ask you a huge favor."
"I'll go deliver the cargo," Vergo said.
"Thank you," Doflamingo replied. He took in another deep breath. "If Kaido says anything, tell him where I am. Tell him to go after me first before anyone else."
Vergo gave a slow, regretful nod. Doflamingo stared at his three subordinates and scowled, not at them but at himself. This was a terrible situation that he would not recover from, if at all. Even if things go according to plan, at this point he would lose a good amount of the money he had saved. Finding Crocodile would almost be impossible.
Impossible. Doflamingo felt his body shiver at the word. It seemed so strange that several hours prior he had scoffed at the idea.
No, No! Doflamingo shook his head as he entered his room, grabbing whatever clean clothes he could find. No, somehow he knew he would find a way out of this! He had faced worst scenarios before, this was noting more than another obstacle for him to overcome. Life was filled with all sort of traps and trickery, life did whatever it could to smother his true being. Somehow he would find a way out.
He heard movement from outside the room. He turned and saw Diamante staring down at him, holding his car keys in his hand.
"Here," the man said, walking over and handing the keys to the blond. "I hope this helps us."
Doflamingo stared down at the keys. "Thank you," he said with a stiff voice.
"Do you think we're going to be ok?"
Doflamingo looked up at the taller man and forced a grin on his face. It had been so long since he had smiled, even longer since he had to bring himself to perform one.
"Ok?" he asked. "We'll be fan-fucking-tastic!"
-Then-
It was uncomfortably dry outside.
Crocodile continued to lie on the couch, staring blankly at the television, keeping his attention partially glued on to whatever moving shapes were on the screen.
Bright hot light emitted from the gaps between the curtains. Crocodile's eyes would slowly lower down and stare at its effect on the carpeting. He wondered how terrible it was outside. A cruel smile grew across his face.
"You really need to do something about Doflamingo," he heard Mihawk say. Crocodile peered up and glared at the younger teen resting in the armchair.
"Why should I worry about him?" Crocodile asked. "All he does it sit outside, call for me, and then go back to sitting and feeling sorry for himself." He pulled a cigarette from his packet and brought it to his lips. "He'll give up eventually."
"Yeah, but is waiting really the right thing to do?"
Crocodile snickered. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"It's gotta be almost a hundred out there," Mihawk stated.
"And?" Crocodile asked.
"You don't think he's dehydrated?"
"Oh, he's definitely dehydrated," Crocodile said. "He's probably burning up as well." He pulled a lighter from his pocket and brought it up to his face "Honestly Mihawk, I don't give a damn if he dies out there."
Mihawk sighed.
"Don't pretend there isn't a part of you that doesn't enjoy this," Crocodile muttered, taking in a deep breath of addicting fumes.
"This isn't about me enjoying another person's pain." Mihawk tilted his head over, giving himself a better view outside between the gaps of the curtains. "Anyways, I gotta meet up with Shanks. I'll talk to you later."
"Mhmm," Crocodile halfheartedly answered. He could feel his heart begin to beat harder.
"Do you think I should get a glass of water for him?"
"That's a stupid idea," Crocodile replied.
"He's thirsty."
"He'll just toss the glass," Crocodile said, changing the channel. "He's not going to accept anything from you."
"He's not that stupid."
"He's determined," Crocodile muttered, still staring at the vibrant screen. He took in another drag from his cigarette. "But go ahead. Have one of my cups shattered across the lawn. I'd rather him stand in the sun and avoid getting cut than just lie there anyways."
A few seconds passed. Crocodile was left alone in the house. A few minutes passed. He was almost certain that Doflamingo moved across the law, following what little shade there was.
He couldn't go a few minutes alone without the paranoia setting in. He rolled the cigarette between his teeth, trying to focus his attention elsewhere, but failing miserably each and every time the channel change, the lighting shifted, a minute passed. Trapped. You're trapped.
-Now-
The car Diamante rented had no working air conditioner. This sort of sucked, but Doflamingo remained silent with his complaints as he drove further down south.
It was getting warmer, but he doubted he had left the state yet, almost perfectly sure he wasn't close to bordering another.
Traffic had been a blessing so far, leaving Doflamingo little time to think of a real plan for what he might do when he arrived South of the border. He was just one man with a gun and some confidence. Exactly how far would that bring him, especially if his enemy was the cartel?
His cellphone rang. Doflamingo dropped his speed to eighty before picking the phone up and nervously answering it.
"Hello?"
"Doffy, it's me again," he heard Pica answer.
"Great," Doflamingo replied. "Please tell me I'm due for some good news."
"It's not the cartel."
"Wonderful," Doflamingo said, looking over and eyeing his traveling bag. "With whom am I facing against then?"
"…I'm not entirely sure," Pica answered. "We've finally came to a stop about ten minutes ago. She parked in front of a house and took the girls in with her. I got a real good look at her."
"Not a local?" Doflamingo asked.
"Definitely not a local," Pica replied. "Her clothes are way too nice for her to be associated with the gangs."
"Nice clothes means someone dangerous enough to be making a lot of profit," Doflamingo said into his phone.
If it wasn't the cartel or some random gang, then who could it be?
Doflamingo thought to himself, trying to make out some evidence from what Pica had already described. "A house?" he stated into the phone.
"Very nice place," Pica said. "I parked a few blocks away, but dropped off the short tempered one by it to have a quick look around. I'll send the maid girl next if we have more time before she leaves."
"You think she'll leave?"
"She knows they have drugs. Those mules are dead for sure," Pica replied harshly. "There's no way they'll survive this. And I doubt a girl dressed in such fine clothing will allow blood to spill in her or her boss' home."
"I see," Doflamingo muttered. "So we have some time?"
"Perhaps, but not much," Pica responded.
"…do you think her boss might show?" Doflamingo asked viciously. He stared out into the road.
"Probably not for something like this."
Doflamingo continued to stare out. He wanted to fix this little problem up as quickly as possible. He needed the boss. Killing the girl would leave a small impression. He wanted to leave scars behind.
"Hopefully Caesar's stuff is as good as he says it is," Doflamingo said. "I need this to be a big deal. I need to have everyone suffer."
"Is that really a good idea, Doffy?"
Doflamingo stared out. The phone was collecting sweat.
He hung up the call and tossed his phone into the backseat of the car.
-Then-
Crocodile was beginning to suspect that Doflamingo might have been more serious than he had previously thought a few days ago. Trapped.
He lifted his eyes from his sketchpad and looked out of his small room window. The boy sat at the edge of the street, seemingly staring out into the sky.
Doflamingo still had not acted on his threats. Crocodile had not received any calls or questions from the police. Nobody was asking him about any strange rumors. It seems almost likely that Doflamingo couldn't bring himself to actually say a damn thing.
But if this was true, then why was he still so nervous?
He lowered his gaze back down to the sketchpad.
"Hey! Crocodile!"
Crocodile's eyes went wide as he brought his pencil down a little too hard against the thick sheets of paper.
"Hey! I need to take a leak! Let me use the bathroom!"
Crocodile's jaw almost dropped. It infuriated him to think that the blond viewed this as some sort of waiting game. He heard a loud crack, followed by a sharp stinging in his right hand. The pencil was broken.
"Shit."
Doflamingo yelled out again. "Hey! Did you hear me?"
Crocodile let the broken pencil drop to the floor. This was not something he could deal with for days on end. He knew his tolerance of Doflamingo's little mind games were dwindling faster by the day. And there was little stopping him from going outside and just beating the shit out of the boy. After all, Doflamingo had said nothing about the incidents.
Crocodile bit his lip, letting some of the skin break and bleed underneath his stress. Half of his face was irritated and itching from healing scars. In a few more days he would be able to have his stitches removed. Blood ran down his lip and chin as he envisioned the dreaded doctor's visit.
He got up from his seat and walked out of his room, quickly making his way down the stairs while hearing the muddled sounds of Doflamingo calling for him.
Crocodile could break his teeth. He could knock out a few of those fancy, expensive teeth and watch Doflamingo piss his pants in pain. He stared silently at the door. Crocodile walked off the last step from the flight of stairs and made his way to the front door, his hands balling into tight, painful fists.
He opened the door and stared out, his eyes falling into squints in order to make out the figures outside.
Doflamingo didn't seem to notice the door had opened, or that he was being approached from behind. He seemed distracted by the passing cars, the noises around him, anything that might bring his mind away from his need to relieve himself. It wasn't until Crocodile let his anger get the best of him, his steps taking the form of very loud stomping on the pavement did the boy turn around and go a little wide-eyed from the surprise. He didn't look afraid, yet.
The blond opened his mouth. "Can I–"
And Crocodile swung, missing his target when Doflamingo reacted, only hitting a part of the blond's face, rather than the mouth. Crocodile stumbled, nearly tripping over Doflamingo, who was now on the floor, facing the sky.
"What the fuck!" Crocodile felt a hand grab hold of his leg. He looked down and sneered.
"Why the fuck would you hit me!" Doflamingo screamed. "What the hell did I ever do to you?"
"Let go of me," Crocodile hissed. His dry lips split, letting his wound reopen as he scowled down at the blond. He lifted his other leg. "I'll break the face of yours."
The boy's eyes turned to the free leg. "That's a shitty thing to do to a friend."
"We're not friends."
"I helped you get to a hospital," he heard Doflamingo say. "I kept your head elevated while you bleed all over yourself! I held on to you. "
"You sick a little fuck…" Crocodile set his leg down and began to shake Doflamingo's hand off the other.
"I didn't mean for that to happen," Doflamingo said. He resisted Crocodile and somehow managed to grab the leg with both hands, holding on to dear life. "I slipped. Mihawk cant drive for shit. If anyone is to blame its him."
Crocodile felt long fingers cling on to his jeans. It made him nauseous.
"Listen to me," he heard Doflamingo say beneath him. Crocodile rolled his eyes. His head snapped down.
"You need to apologize," Doflamingo said. Crocodile's jaw would have dropped were it not for his bleeding lip and absolute disgust when looking at the boy.
"I'm going to break your face," Crocodile announced.
"Say your sorry first," Doflamingo said.
"Why the fuck would I ever do that?"
"Because I already apologized," Doflamingo answered. "I told you a three days ago how sorry I was for everything I said. For my threats. Everything." Two blue eyes nervously looked up at Crocodile. "It's your turn now."
Crocodile could not believe what he was hearing. So Doflamingo chose not to tell based on some half-assed begging that he had performed a few days ago?
The risk was still there and Crocodile wasn't sure he was willing to make the move.
"What you said really messed me up."
Crocodile looked back down, his hair swaying in front of his view as he stared down at the hurt looking boy. His stomach was aching. His lip hurt and the itchiness of his healing scar was damn near intolerable.
"I get it," Doflamingo said. His voice was shaking. "I get it. I really do. I say fucked up shit all the time when I'm scared. I said stuff to you. We're beating each other up right now…well, you're beating me up right now…because you're–"
Crocodile lowered his foot down on the side of Doflamingo's face; slow enough for Doflamingo to grab hold, but hard enough for the boy to not be able to stop some of the force, pushing the boy down and causing his thin legs to kick up.
As Crocodile listened to Doflamingo's swears and sour remarks he thought and wondered about an event that had taken place several years ago. What on earth was he thinking when he decided to let that lost little boy approach and follow him out to the desert? His life had already begun a positive transition towards something greater: why did he feel the need to let that annoying child into his complicated world? Why didn't the child run away at his gruesome comments, snide remarks about getting lost, starving, or getting disemboweled by the local wildlife?
"…I think I can hear my skull cracking."
Crocodile looked down at his worn out shoes, dirty blond hair just underneath it.
"You're such a child," Crocodile muttered.
"You're psychotic," Doflamingo replied back in his shaking voice. A nervous laugh. "You're scared and crazy and you're probably gonna bust my head open at this rate."
"You think that's funny?"
"If you're not going to apologize," Doflamingo said weakly, his body appearing to shiver from the growing pain, "the least I can do is make you as uncomfortable as possible."
Crocodile frowned. His stomach still ached.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"No."
"You called me a fag," Doflamingo said, ignoring Crocodile's warning. His hand slid weakly across the grass. "You know I like guys and you called me a fag. You called me that horrible word…you must know I like you, right?"
"You're a si–"
"That means you're definitely a man, right?"
The question sent a painful shiver down Crocodile's spine. His lips curled inward as he felt his face pale, his stomach flip-flop, and his heart raced with growing anxiety.
"Were you born that way?" Cruel words echoed from below. "How are you you? Come on: tell me. Tell me, please. Fufufu, I mean, it's not like I'm interested in doing anything…"
Crocodile pushed all his weight on to his one leg, relaying all of it against poor Doflamingo's head. The younger boy yelped in pain, his body struggling to remain without somehow clawing out of his problematic situation. Crocodile's leg finally lifted up. He stared down at the thing body beneath him with a new sense of cruelty. He watched Doflamingo breath heavily underneath him. The body was shaking. He could see Doflamingo's eyes tearing up. Good. But the boy did not move from his spot.
Crocodile decided to wait a few seconds before giving his next warning.
"Leave."
"No…you need to apologize." Somehow the boy managed to say this without too much trembling in his voice. It could not shield the misery though. Crocodile could tell the boy was in pain. The blond hair could not cover the welts created by his shoes.
"I'm going to fucking kick you till you bleed."
Doflamingo struggled to get on all fours. Crocodile smirked.
The blond looked up at Crocodile. "You should know…" He wiped his face of some dirt. "I think you're incredibly impressive. I'm astounded. Really," the boy coughed and a few tears ran down the side of his face that had taken the blow.
Crocodile scowled. "Shut the fuck up."
"No," the boy said again. He blinked a few times, getting on his knees and holding on to the side of his head. "You might as well kick the shit out of me cause I'm not done talking yet. You still owe me a fucking apology. Oh, and some sun-"
Crocodile took the invitation and immediately swung his leg into the boy's stomach. Another sharp cry. Crocodile could feel his vision blur as he watched Doflamingo fall back down, landing roughly on the warm grass. His whole entire body was beginning to cramp. The heat made it hard to concentrate as Crocodile took a step over Doflamingo's flailing body, animal instincts demanding he watch every moment of the suffering to make up for his own.
There was whimpering. "That really hurt," he heard Doflamingo whisper.
"You should go home while you can still walk," Crocodile hissed back.
"Fu…fu…no." The boy held on to his stomach, taking in deep breaths and doing his best not to break under the pain. Crocodile brought his shaking hands up and began to nervously crack his knuckles.
"Every time...you hurt me," he heard Doflamingo say. "I'm…going to hurt you...with…scary words."
Vomit. He wanted to vomit. "Is that a threat?"
"No, a warning," Doflamingo said.
Crocodile nervously laughed. Doflamingo huffed, bringing himself back up on his arms and legs, staring up at Crocodile with reddened eyes. "I'm serious," the boy said. "You gave me warnings…only fair I do the same, right?"
A warning. Crocodile had not realized the grave mistakes he had allowed himself to perform until now. He was one to punish without remorse, yet he was hesitating with Doflamingo. He knew part of this was to permit torture, to watch the boy suffer…but this certainly was not the entire case.
He had a weakness for Doflamingo. And the boy fucking knew it!
"I didn't know…that was possible…"
Crocodile pushed his messy hair away from his face as he listened and awaited Doflamingo's next round of assault. He knew he could attack now. Doflamingo knew he could attack him at any moment now that the truth was out. But you lingered.
"How did you do it?" he heard Doflamingo ask. "It's…impossible. But you…you somehow…you became…"
Crocodile's eyes went wide. He knelt over and grabbed Doflamingo roughly by the arm; hoisting him as high he could before staring evilly at the boy's pained face.
"No!" Crocodile said, baring his teeth at Doflamingo's surprised expression. "I. Did. Not. Change!" He let his nails dig deep into tanned flesh, watching Doflamingo's eyes twitch in agony, blue pupils refusing to give up and tear away from his golden. "I never became! I always was! " Crocodile could feel his throat burn as he stared into those round, blue pupils. There was something about this situation. Could he have avoided it all if he hadn't been so afraid all those years ago?
What about Doflamingo? Fourteen and he finally admitted that their behavior was a result of fear. No…this was all predetermined.
"You're wrong," Crocodile said. "You're all wrong! You know absolutely nothing about me! You've no fucking idea!" He brought his other hand and lifted Doflamingo all the way up by the shoulder. He leered at the boy.
"Don't You Ever...Delegitimize MY Existence!"
It took several seconds for Crocodile to realize his entire body was trembling. It took several seconds for him to realize that he was losing it. Blood was running down his face. He tore something. It was a scar or lip, but Crocodile didn't really care what he had done to himself.
"I'm sorry," Doflamingo said.
Crocodile's lower eyelid twitched.
"I didn't know…I don't know what I'm supposed to describe it as," the boy said. "I don't know any of this…Crocodile, I think I'm more afraid than you are."
The words stung more than anything else that had been previously said.
He let go of Doflamingo, letting the boy fall back down to the ground. Staring out across the street he could tell that he had left a strange impression on himself. But the rage was still there, burning inside him with an uncontrollable fury. His head snapped down and without a second though he began to kick Doflamingo.
Again. Again. Again. And each time Doflamingo uttered some kind of animal like sound, fueling Crocodile for another go until his chest began to ache with something new.
He looked down at the bruised mess that was Doflamingo. The boy was quiet. He was unresponsive.
Crocodile felt sick. He was sick beyond belief and he wanted to go back inside and go to sleep and pretended that none of this had ever happened. A fantasy. He wanted to go back in time and stop all of this from ever occurring. Somehow. He'd stop himself from ever meeting the boy.
He swallowed. Crocodile hesitantly approached the backpack that had been left, remembering what Doflamingo had said some days prior. He turned and stared at the limp body, then back at the bag. He unzipped it and was immediately greeted with his handgun. He greedily snatched the weapon and hurried back inside the house, leaving Doflamingo left outside and unconscious.
-Now-
Doflamingo sat on top of the car, staring at the setting sun, wishing he had brought some blankets with him on the trip.
Everything was set up. Vergo had called to confirm that both his executives had collected all the members. Everyone was in the process of cooking, and hopefully everything would be prepared for shipping a couple of days.
Doflamingo removed his sunglasses and wiped his sweaty face, waiting and welcoming any breeze that was so kind to provide him attention.
Pica and company were keeping an eye on things farther down south. If he managed to kind a place to dine and obtain some caffeine he'd probably reach them before the product was completed.
Doflamingo zipped up his worn, pink jacket as he watched the sky grow into a darker shade of purple. Stars were forming in the sky. His heart ached with a truth that he could not deny.
He knew his options were incredibly limited. He could have all his dreams come true.
Odds were only some of those things would happen, especially when taking into consideration that one of those new dreams was to survive to see age thirty.
'He could be dead,' Doflamingo thought quietly. Realistically, the more time passed the more likely it was. The more he fooled around instead of actively pursuing his goals the less likely he was to achieve mastery over the man he missed so dearly. So many times he had screwed up…and now this?
The phone rang.
Doflamingo cupped his hands together, covering his face as an overwhelming feeling arose within him. The sound of the ringing echoed throughout the desert and into the long night ahead.
-Then-
In about one hour his mother would return home. The woman who was worth less alive than dead, and all he had was one measly bullet.
Crocodile licked his healing lip as he regrettably stashed his weapon into one of his drawers. Who knew where Doflamingo had hid the other bullets? Not that it really mattered. The plans that he had come up with weeks ago were no longer relevant to the situation.
He threw himself into his chair, his hands lingering on the desk, searching for something to grab hold on while Crocodile stared outside, into the growing darkness.
Somehow the cops had not been called, and nobody seemed to care that there was an unconscious person lying on his front lawn. It didn't surprise Crocodile too much that society left the boy to die, but every once in a while he would sit down, pretended to have an interest to draw something, only to stare outside and view the work of art he had created.
It did not sooth the pain. It made it so much worse.
For an hour he stared. For an hour the pain grew deeper and deeper, another scar running across his being. He was hungry, but too sick to eat to prepare or order anything. He picked at his stiches, waiting for Doflamingo to get up and crawl his way back home, broken and sure of himself that he would never return back to this horrible place.
Crocodile averted his gaze, looking over to almost empty water bottle that he had taken out of the fridge not too long ago. The air inside was getting cooler. He was always thirsty for something. Reaching over and grabbing the bottle, his mind continued to linger on every painful word that was thrown at him.
If he didn't care about what Doflamingo thought, then why did it hurt so much? And if the boy kept his promise to never tell a soul, then what was Crocodile afraid of?
He took a sip of water. It helped with the burning throat. The stomach calmed. The pain grew.
Crocodile's tiny room could not hold on to this forever. He stared at the remaining water, letting swish around as he made another glance outside.
How many times will the boy apologize now? How much longer till Crocodile could no longer bear it? The young man could not deny that Doflamingo not only understood, but also felt bad about not having previously comprehending the situation.
Wasn't it enough? Crocodile blinked. And wasn't it enough for you? Wasn't it enough for someone who never told secrets…to have another person to share this with? Someone who did not only understand…but actually wanted to know more?
The answer absolutely terrified him.
But! Somehow. He stood. In front of the door. Somehow…he opened it and peered out, staring at the curled form that only moved when an ache became too much to bear. His right hand let the top of the water body dangle between fingers as he listened to breathing that could be heard from his door. Crocodile would have been impressed by this work if were someone else…after much, much thought.
He opened the door the rest of the way and walked outside, quiet and feeling humble, his face full of grimace in the form of a long, tired frown. The urge to go back inside and sleep the rest of the week off was stronger than ever, but instead Crocodile let his hair fall across his face as he knelt down and shook Doflamingo by the shoulder.
A low moan responded.
Crocodile was quick to respond back by resting the water bottle in front of Doflamingo's red face. Neither said anything, nor looked at each other as a thin, shaky arm reached out and grabbed for the water bottle, dragging it across the cut grass and bringing it to dry lips. Crocodile examined the body he had nearly torn apart; sure of himself that this would all be impressive on another person's body.
He waited until Doflamingo was done before touching him again, this time guiding the boy up and letting his sore body rest against his for support.
It would be a long, silent walk to the house. It seemed Doflamingo knew this. Crocodile pulled his sore companion into a standing position, hearing not one complain as he began to drag him across the lawn and into the house, each step worth a moan, but each time quiet…leaving Crocodile more guilt to bear. The only sign of pain was heard in the form of the water bottle, the plastic form being crushed and reformed by Doflamingo's tense fingers.
Finally, inside the cool domain Crocodile dropped Doflamingo off at his couch, letting the blond rearrange himself in whatever comfortable manner he chose while Crocodile wandered into the kitchen thinking of something to do.
He opened the fridge. The ache in his stomach began to quell. Right on time.
After some listening to the sounds of obvious pain Crocodile reached for some Coke and went rummaging through the cupboards until he found his Jack. Despite his selfishness he decided it was best to offer something strong. Maybe Doflamingo would pass out again, and he could avoid talking to the boy till tomorrow?
He made two drinks, waited, and then waited some more before finally allowing himself back into the living room, worried to see that Doflamingo was awake. The boy moved slowly in his seat, fixing his messy hair, lifting his shirt and staring at the marks Crocodile had left behind. When he was done Crocodile walked in and placed the drinks on the table, his eyes looking around, trying to find something to distract him with, resting on the water bottle, now filled with something orange.
Orange. Crocodile could feel himself grow cold with worry. Yes, that is pretty darn impressive. He had kicked Doflamingo right in the kidney. Well, thank goodness we're all born with two.
He watched Doflamingo turn his head and stare at the glass that had been offered to him. Crocodile sat himself down opposite of Doflamingo, but facing away.
"Drink," he ordered.
"Croco–"
"Please, "Crocodile stressed, "don't talk."
He hurriedly grabbed his drink, as if to gesture to Doflamingo that this was necessary for healing. He took a sip. Another. He watched Doflamingo reach out for his glass, exposing bruises on his arm that Crocodile had not noticed before. He waited until Doflamingo fulfilled his command before willing himself to continue.
"We can talk later," Crocodile muttered into his cup.
Doflamingo heard this. He watched in terror as the boy's eyes went wide with surprise.
"Later," Crocodile added, forcing his voice back into a more calmer, stoic tone. "Whenever I feel like it."
The boy took another sip, this time larger, resulting in a pained expression from the intense taste of alcohol. "Ok," he coughed.
"I don't want to talk now."
"Ok."
Crocodile could feel the anxiety begin to dwindle. He was getting hungry. Maybe he'd order something. Something good. He might have to share…oh well.
"Uhm…"
He turned and stared at Doflamingo.
"What?" he asked harshly.
"Thanks," Doflamingo said, pointing at his drink. Doflamingo looked back down, also seeming unsure of how to approach this strange situation. Finally, after a few seconds of silence, the boy added, "it nice…it's quiet."
Crocodile stared down at his beverage. "Yeah."
"You know…you're a real, fucking asshole."
Crocodile was pretty sure he didn't give permission to talk yet. He sighed, allowing the insult. It was better than having the actual, dreaded discussion…whenever that may be. He took another sip of his drink, sure of himself that the idea of sharing with Doflamingo again wouldn't be so bad, rather: it would hopefully be nostalgic.
"I know," he finally muttered.
This wasn't bad. This wasn't bad at all. Crocodile was feeling better. He wasn't so sick of everything. It felt nice. His eyes burned, but he felt nice for once.
"Crocodile?"
"What?" he asked, staring out, letting the ice in his drink swirl under the command of his finger.
"Apology accepted?"
Crocodile could feel his stitches began to itch again. He wondered what sort of scar it would leave behind before finally replying, "Yes. Apology accepted."
Back in time. It would have been so much easier to tell a frightened eight year old, rather than a confused fourteen year old. And now, you'll suffer more for it.
Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and would appreciate any remarks in the form of a review or private message.
