AN- This chapter contains disturbing scenes.
-Part 3-
Obscene Encounter
-Now-
Crocodile placed the syringe back on the table. The heavy dose of painkillers would assure that Doflamingo remained unconscious while he had his men remove the bodies in the basement.
In the end, Crocodile chose to have the basement cleaned. Doflamingo's blood reeked in his mind, but it intermixed with the foul stench of rotting corpses, ruining whatever pleasure he could derive. As grizzly as the scene was, Crocodile needed the bodies removed. They were getting in the way of real fun. Their smell covered everything, and would continue to once he began tearing his way through Doflamingo. He couldn't have it overpowering him. And the blood. There was blood everywhere. Doflamingo's, and those unfortunate mules. He didn't want all the different fluids blending. Doflamingo's blood needed to remain separate. Crocodile couldn't explain why. It was a maddening desire.
Robin stood by the stairs. She stared down at Doflamingo, up at Crocodile, and then at the hand towel he had in his possession.
"Cleaning him up for processing?" she quietly asked.
"He's staying here," Crocodile answered. His hand squeezed the moist towel. She removed her stare from it.
"The drugs are ready to be sent to Whitebeard," she commented. Her voice was low; afraid of any additional consequences Crocodile was considering laying on her. "He'll want to know who made them."
Crocodile looked down at Doflamingo. "Tell him I have the man in my custody."
"He'll want to meet him," Robin replied.
Crocodile sneered at her. "I'll let Whitebeard have his way when the time comes."
She sniffed. People were going up and down the stairs, careful to avoid certain contact between Crocodile and Robin. Nobody dared to acknowledge the vague conversation, even less the man lying in the middle of the floor, dried blood covering his entire body.
It was frustrating. Crocodile wanted nothing more than to inform Robin that he would be keeping Doflamingo in his possession for as long as he could make the man last. Not even in private would he dare bring himself to admit such personal desires. It was made all the worse with the nameless subordinates going through the house.
"Get over here," Crocodile demanded.
Robin took small steps over to him. She rested her heeled boots gently against the floor, stopping herself from making too much sound. She was careful, moving around Doflamingo's body, not coming into the slightest contact. Crocodile liked that about her.
She stopped in front of him. "Yes, Mr. 0?" she asked. He didn't appreciate the look she was giving him. He despised that he constantly felt he needed to prove himself in front of her.
Crocodile shoved the towel into her hands. "Clean him up," he ordered.
"Fine." She stared down at the man resting before them. "And then what?"
He didn't want her touching Doflamingo. Crocodile insisted to himself he could handle her dirtying her hands with his blood. He needed to prepare a few things. Calls still needed to be made. Daz might like an update.
More importantly, he had to prove to Robin he was in control.
Crocodile huffed. "That's none of your concern," he growled.
She said nothing. Crocodile grew angrier as she knelt down and began to analyze Doflamingo's bloodied face. He didn't want her touching the unconscious man. Crocodile told himself he could handle this. Robin would clean Doflamingo up. She would prepare Doflamingo, for him. Doflamingo wouldn't ruin her, and she certainly wouldn't ruin him.
Robin's covered hand hovered above the forehead caked with dried blood, and Crocodile suddenly grew nauseous. He clenched his teeth while making his way over to the stairs.
"Where you going?" she asked. Her soft voice teased his ears.
He looked over his shoulder. "I'm getting something," he answered. He felt uneasy. "Something to bind him."
Her hand gestured at the chair that Doflamingo was so intimately attached to. "He's already bound." She almost sounded offended, as though Crocodile had suggested she had done an inferior job.
Once again, there were too many people going in an out of the basement for him to even consider hinting his true intentions with her. He wanted Doflamingo free from the chair. He wanted to see the man crawling around. He desired to have Doflamingo capable of some movement, if only to tease him with the possibility of fleeing.
"Don't get smart with me," he warned.
Crocodile left the basement in a hurry. He made enough noise that he was almost positive that he had awoken the man. Crocodile continued to rush through the household, his steps too rapid, and the sound of his shoes hitting the floor too hard. And then there was so much commotion already going on. It was an excess of various distractions, and Crocodile was shaking as he continued into Robin's room, sure that Doflamingo would suddenly awake, and everything would be ruined.
There was nothing else to look forward to. Crocodile opened the door to the warm, clustered bedroom that he had given Robin. He passed by a table piled high with various texts and novels, stopping in front of her closest.
He opened it and stared into the colorful, expensive array of clothing he had amassed for her. His left arm grew heavy as his right hand slid across the collection, stopping when it came into contact with something long and soft. He grabbed the purple fabric and pulled it from the hanger. Crocodile rubbed his fingers against the silk scarf. It would be too thin for hands. Doflamingo would find a way out wriggle out of that. Crocodile threw the scarf over his shoulder. He examined the closet and pulled out a light top with long sleeves.
Feeling satisfied, Crocodile made his way out of Robin's room, stopping at the door and giving the bed a short stare before slamming the door shut. Crocodile felt inadequate as he went over to the kitchen. He stopped in front of the knife display and played with the buttons on the shirt. He waited for the feeling so subside, and tugged the top button, thinking about the bed, the clothes, and the blood covering still covering Doflamingo's face.
People were still going through the house, carrying bags filled with human remains. It was a time consuming process. Large bags attracted the wrong attention, as well as too many people going in and out of an otherwise nice house, in a neighborhood not used to getting so much attention. Crocodile sniffed the air. The kitchen would need to be freshened up later. He sighed, pulling out a knife as he imaged the long day ahead for Robin.
The hook made certain tasks harder. Crocodile knew he might have been better off pressing a stump against the shirt. Heavy as the weapon was, its smooth texture made grabbing and holding things down near impossible.
It looked nice though.
He brought the knife down on the shirt, using whatever force he could summon from his left side to help tear through the fabric. Crocodile cut through the bottom portion, so Doflamingo wouldn't have anything to grab hold of.
He stared at the mangled shirt. He ruined Robin's top, just so he could tie it around a man's wrist. Crocodile couldn't help but estimate the price of the destroyed wear. He had done worse to her. He wondered if it was worth her being mildly disappointed at the loss. Robin had a way of showing distaste. It was subtle enough for him to ignore, but apparent enough for him to want to do something about it. Crocodile tugged the shirt, letting the fabric stretch under his force. He feared he was letting certain feelings get to him.
Why not rope? Crocodile thought. It would certainly be a struggle to tie a knot with one hand, but Doflamingo was unconscious. Robin was here. She could tie the knot for him, if things didn't work out well. She had done it before, what would be stopping her now? Not Doflamingo. It wasn't like he could put up any sort of struggle.
Crocodile squeezed the fabric in his hand.
He left the kitchen, taking the top and scarf with him.
The air in the basement wasn't nearly as heavy as before. Crocodile made his descent, this time more careful with the noise he produced.
Crocodile stopped right behind Robin's kneeling body. She had a first aid kit resting next to her. In her hand was the towel, now filthy with a combination of sweat, dirt, and blood.
"What's the damage?" he asked.
Robin continued to dab around the man's eye. "He won't be seeing with that eye for a while," she casually replied. "The entire area is incredibly swollen. I wouldn't be surprised if the retina retained some damage from the impact of the fall."
Crocodile wrinkled his nose. "Can he feel pain?"
She placed the towel on the floor, resting both her hands on her legs. She stared at Doflamingo's cleaned up face. Crocodile kept himself in place, reminding himself that there was no reason to turn and peer over Robin. He didn't need to see what Doflamingo looked like without a layer of filth. It was just Doflamingo. Crocodile could guess how well he had aged based upon his last viewing, blood coated and all.
"I imagine so," Robin answered. "The area bleeds with enough pressure applied to it. There doesn't appear to be any dead or dying tissue."
Crocodile looked over at the first aid kit. "What's this?" he gestured at it with his hook.
"I'm under the impression Whitebeard will want Doflamingo to appear looking semi-decent," she said. She pulled out some cotton balls from the kit. "And the area is incredibly bruised…something needs to done, otherwise he'll risk losing sight in the eye. Permanently."
Crocodile didn't recall giving her permission to prepare him for Whitebeard. He looked around the basement and saw that the two of them were alone.
"Is something wrong?" she asked.
Crocodile looked down and saw her staring up at him. "No."
"I'm going to see if I can bring down the swelling," Robin announced, pulling out some bandages form the kit. "You can choose to gouge his eye out later, if you think it'll help. But right now…"
"Excuse me?" Crocodile snapped. He crossed his arms. "What are you insinuating?"
"Nothing," Robin calmly replied. "I'm merely letting you know my intentions. I need to keep the swelling down right now, to give his left eye a chance. But if you disagree, then you can go ahead and do as you please with it."
Crocodile huffed.
"And I know you have a way of doing whatever you want, despite my given warning," she added. She looked at the ruined top he still held in his hand. She went back to soaking cotton balls in foul smelling liquid.
They were all alone. "You have nothing else to say?" he asked her.
"You're the boss," she stated. She pulled out a small pair of scissors. "And I'm left to assume every action you perform is in our best interest."
Crocodile bit the inside of his lip.
"You must really believe the offering to Whitebeard will work," Robin said. She cupped her moist hands together. "This sudden offering."
Crocodile looked up at the open door. He could hear movement still taking place above them. The officers were still inside of the house, ruining any chance of real privacy. It didn't matter. He couldn't explain his reasoning to her either way.
"What will you do when he asks for the name of the cook?" she asked.
Crocodile let his left arm sway. He felt the tip of the curved end hit his side.
"I will provide a name." He watched her look up at him. Her eyes held something in them that pissed him off to no end.
"And when they ask for him?" she pushed. Her tone suggested just the slightest hint of confusion. He wondered if she was afraid. Robin was a woman with a curious past. It left her dependent on him. Another thing he liked about her.
But now he frowned. "That's not something you need to concern yourself over."
She smiled up at him." Of course not."
Crocodile didn't know how to react to it. He gripped the destroyed top, his chest filling up with too many different feelings. He couldn't process it.
Robin proceeded to point at the rope that bound the man to the chair. "Shall I do the honors?"
Crocodile huffed again. His face was warm, and he threw the scarf and ripped top at her. "Don't wake him up," he threatened. "I don't have time to deal with this right now."
"You're a busy man," she muttered, removing the purple scarf that had landed on top of her. She didn't appear the least bit bothered by his action. "Would you like me to leave the chair down here?"
He walked over to the stairs. "I don't care."
"I'll leave it." He watched her get up and made her way around Doflamingo's limp body. Crocodile had to stop and stare. "And once I'm done binding him up with these…" She lifted up the scarf and spread the cloth so Crocodile could witness the elaborate decorations. "Is there anything else I should do? "
Crocodile's lips curled inward when he saw the scarf flutter in the room. There were no drafts. Robin was attempting to make a point.
"Cover his head," he answered.
"Of course." He saw her smile through the thin fabric.
Crocodile had to leave the room again. Somewhere in his mind there was a sickness that got worse with every step he made leading back upstairs.
He rested in the living room. He sat down and waited for all the lesser officers to clean out and leave the house.
Crocodile waited for absolute silence. He opened the windows and let some of the smell air out, just enough to not attract the attention of any neighbors. He kept his eyes on surrounding houses while he waited for Robin to show herself. He waited for more sounds.
He knew that the trade with Whitebeard wasn't going to work well, not with only a small amount of drugs. As clean as everything was, sending out Daz to make the trade was an incredibly risky action. There was nothing stopping any of Whitebeard's men from shooting the man down. There was nothing stopping them from kicking down the door right now and shooting him down right now.
Robin appeared, the small kit in her hands. She said nothing as she passed through the living room, keeping her eyes averted from Crocodile's.
He reclined further into the seat. He tried to imagine how the trade would fare, if things did go according to his hastily made plan. Whitebeard would want Doflamingo. Crocodile could save himself the trouble if he just gave Doflamingo up as an offering.
Why was he so greedy? What did he gain from having Doflamingo here?
Crocodile rubbed his index and thumb together. He was craving nicotine.
Now?
Something inside the pit of Crocodile's stomach told him it was time to go back down. He turned and looked over at the open window. It was night.
Now.
Daz had sent a text about an hour ago. Crocodile placed his cigar on the ashtray and picked up his cellphone. He checked the time, again. He stared at the last text he had received and furrowed his brows, wondering what was taking the hit man so long to provide him more information.
Well…what could it hurt for him to check up Doflamingo?
Crocodile plucked the cigar and placed it back in his mouth. He stood up. Robin poked her head out from the kitchen.
"Are you going to eat?" she asked.
Crocodile ignored her and made his way over to the basement door.
"Whitebeard takes his time with these things," Robin's voice irritated his mind. "Priorities come first. You cannot expect Mr. 1 to send any new information."
She was trying to stall him. Crocodile sighed and opened the basement door.
Why did she think he needed to be stalled? Crocodile was in control. Robin knew nothing. She had no idea how important this was to him.
Crocodile slowly made his descent back down into the basement, this time clicking on the light. Right away he heard something. Breathing. Hard breathing. He took the cigar from his mouth and allowed himself to grin down at the body curled up on its side.
Doflamingo was playing dead rather well. The breathing was slow, a little slow to appear real And every other breath resulted in a slight shiver. Crocodile continued down the stairs, feeling his face ache with from smiling.
Doflamingo couldn't feign sleep forever.
Crocodile let his heels hit the floor with enough force to earn a loud enough exhale from Doflamingo. He circled around the body. The chair was gone, and Doflamingo's was curled, already going on the defense. He caught a glimpse of the man's lower back and refrained from chuckling when he caught the sight of bruises covering the spine. Robin had done a wonderful job restraining Doflamingo, then and now. He could see how forced into position he hands were. Fingers were retracting. Doflamingo couldn't pretend any longer.
He stopped right in front. There was a bag covering Doflamingo's face. With the blood washed away, the delicate cloths keeping him bound, and the corpses removed, Crocodile could see how much the thing stood out.
Crocodile flicked his cigar and let some of the ash fall and land on the sack covering the man's head. "I know you're awake," he growled. His voice was surprisingly low.
He watched Doflamingo's body shake underneath him. His heart skipped several beats as he concentrated on every move the body underneath him performed. The wrists rubbed against each other, trying to rub and wear at the scarf keeping them bound together. He watched the legs attempt the same move. He watched Doflamingo exhale into his bag.
Crocodile chuckled.
"Forgive me." He watched Doflamingo flinch at his own voice. Crocodile lavished every shake. "But…I never imagined any reunion between us working quite like this."
It was as though every word was a struggle. But then, Doflamingo knew exactly whom he was talking to. And the very fact that the man struggled to bring himself to speak was a sign that he knew what was up. Doflamingo couldn't pretend anymore.
"Oh?" He could barely keep from hiding the excitement in his voice.
Doflamingo twisted beneath him. He watched the head turn up. Crocodile could imagine how frustrating it must have been for Doflamingo. He had been in similar situations before. Not knowing what was going on was a terrible thing to experience. He almost felt bad witnessing Doflamingo's personal struggle, like he was prying into an intimate scene.
Crocodile carried his cigar between his finger and thumb, letting the tip press against his moist lips. His stomach was starting to feel empty. Days of barely eating like a normal human being, and now he was finally feeling something.
The man heaved. "I thought you were dead, Crocodile."
He brought his cigar back into his lips. He licked the tip.
Dead? Crocodile had told Mihawk to keep his whereabouts a secret. Had Doflamingo been under the impression that he had been dead the past several years?
It was…offensive. Crocodile should have asked Mihawk to be less vague. The fact that Doflamingo thought his actions warranted such an…extreme result had Crocodile privately raging. He had done ridiculous things before. He had tried to end his life before. He had failed. He could not die. How dare Doflamingo think he was special, warranting that kind of reaction.
Crocodile let smoke linger and pour out of his mouth. He knelt down and grabbed the bag, yanking from Doflamingo's head and tossing it across the room.
"Surprise," the man scoffed. The remaining smoke washed out from his lips and spilled across Doflamingo's weary face. Fear collected on the man's adjusting eyes. Crocodile grinned. The man had every right to be afraid. After everything he had done, Doflamingo had no right to feel or express anything else.
Doflamingo squint his eye. "Holy shit…"
Crocodile leaned forward.
"What…" Doflamingo stared up. He blinked. "When did you get the hook?"
Crocodile brought himself back up and walked over to the corner of the room, where Robin had left the chair.
"Wait…tell me your hand's in there," Doflamingo coughed out. Crocodile smirked when he heard something scuffle around on the floor. "Fuck…those clothes. Damn Crocodile, you got some nice clothes on." Shoes kicked the floor. "Too bad about the blood, I'm actually really nice myself. But dang, that's a nice look on you…"
Crocodile grabbed the chair and dragged it back into the center of the room with his hook.
"Like, this is really nice. This thing you got going on here," Doflamingo continued. "Even this little room of yours."
Crocodile set the chair right in front of Doflamingo.
"Look at you," Doflamingo laughed. He rolled on to his back and grinned up at Crocodile. "You got yourself a nice little house. A shiny hook. I'm mean, sure, no hand, but the hook is really nice. And you got a pretty girl, oh, and by the way, fuck her."
Crocodile sat himself down, crossing his legs and smiling down at Doflamingo. The man wriggled on the floor, trying to give himself a better view. He had a smile on his face. Crocodile couldn't tell what sort of smile it was. The excitement in Doflamingo's good eye made it so hard to tell.
"…Crocodile?" Doflamingo muttered.
He stuck his cigar out and let some ash fall on the floor, just missing Doflamingo's face. For some reason, Doflamingo was not expressing fear in the manner he would have preferred.
"What?" Crocodile asked.
"Please tell me this is your handiwork," Doflamingo replied in his shaky voice. He shook his head. Crocodile stared. Doflamingo shook his head again, wincing.
"Your eye?" Crocodile muttered.
"Yes," Doflamingo said. His undamaged eye twitched. "I'm all bandaged up now. A little woozy too…"
"The drugs should be wearing off soon." Crocodile inhaled. He looked over at the walls and stared at the selection of tools he could choose from and torment Doflamingo with.
"How kind."
Crocodile blew out a trail of smoke. "Miss All Sunday's work. Not mine." He watched Doflamingo produce a small pout. "She suggested I keep you fully intact, until the issue with Whitebeard is settled."
"Yes, that woman of yours," Doflamingo grumbled. Crocodile didn't find any enjoyment when he watched the thin man struggle with his binds. "Please, Crocodile, I need to know…"
Crocodile held in a chuckle while Doflamingo rubbed his legs together, trying to loosen the binds around his ankles.
"Tell me you're not…the two of you," Doflamingo went on. He winced again and turned on his side. "I don't think I could forgive you for that."
"She's really good at tying knots," Crocodile answered. He reclined in his seat. "Amongst other things…"
"Oh," Doflamingo said. He sounded incredibly disappointed. "Oh, you see. I didn't want to hear that. I didn't need to know that." He wrinkled his nose. His one eye watered a bit. "Dang, you see…I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about that."
"About what?" Crocodile inquired. He continued play with his cigar.
Doflamingo laughed. "I've gone and put you up on one hell of a pedestal," he said. He grinned up at Crocodile. "You see it's really my fault. But the idea that you'd just go and…sleep around." He actively began to fight his binds. "That fucking pisses me off."
Crocodile shrugged. "I'm sorry I don't live up to your expectations." He couldn't sound any more sarcastic.
"Oh, no, no, no!" Doflamingo went on. "You're doing quite fine, save for that Sunday chick." He jerked his legs, trying to undo Robin's binds. Crocodile was impressed the man had such strength after being locked down in the basement for so many hours without food or water. "Everything else here is lovely!" Doflamingo stopped, giving himself a moment to catch his breath. "You did…an amazing job, Croc. I wouldn't…have expected anything less."
In his struggle, Doflamingo had managed to inch his way closer to Crocodile. Not by much, the distance between the two had dwindled down.
"Right," Doflamingo struggled. He kept the smile on his face. "So, this thing with Whitebeard." There was no hiding the shakiness of his voice. "You want to maybe let me in on that?"
Crocodile was thankful for it. "I've sent a man to offer your product to Whitebeard and his company."
He needed that wonderful reassurance. He was barely able to keep himself from jumping off the chair and having his way with Doflamingo, not with that unbearable attitude of his. Every other comment he made pissed Crocodile off. It was becoming harder to remain the better man.
Doflamingo frowned. "What?"
"And Miss All-Sunday wants me to keep you in good enough condition," Crocodile continued. "Should Whitebeard show some interest in the quality of your drugs." He stared at his cigar. It was almost used up. He looked down at Doflamingo, who was staring up at him with a wide eye. "Personally," he added, "I don't see much use…I have a hard enough time believing you might even know how to make cocaine, let alone decent quality cocaine."
"I don't," Doflamingo admitted. "It's just my name on that stuff…"
So, the trade would end up a failure. Crocodile closed his eyes, letting out a soft sigh as he let his mind rest on the only sure thing left.
"Oh dear," Doflamingo muttered. "I've gone and ruined things." He nervously chuckled. "Your boss wont be so happy about that…don't tell me you promised Whitebeard that you already had me in your possession?"
Crocodile removed his leg form the other, spreading his legs a bit while he repositioned himself in the chair. "I don't work for that man." His voice was harsher.
"My mistake," Doflamingo said. He nudged himself even closer. Now he was only inches away from Crocodile's legs. "Actually, it makes sense. Loads of sense. I have a hard time imagining you working for someone else…"
Crocodile grabbed his chair. With the strength from his legs he pushed himself away from Doflamingo. The chair produced a loud creak that echoed in the basement. He cringed at the long groan.
Doflamingo squint his eye and let out another shaky laugh. "Nah, you're not about to work under anybody, not even a Yonko. As crazy at it sounds, I see you trying to work against him."
Crocodile stared at the small droplets of sweat beginning to develop on Doflamingo's forehead. He stared at the end of his cigar.
"Of course," Doflamingo continued, "I can't help but wonder why you'd make any sort of offering to Whitebeard." Crocodile looked away, back up to the door. "And Miss All Sunday got me all cleaned up. Eye too. How sweet."
"Any trade is s a good trade," Crocodile muttered.
"And yet, here I am," Doflamingo said. "Down here, when we both know damn well I could be on my way to meet the famous warlord…"
Crocodile stood up and walked over to a small trash bin. He tossed his cigar in it, not caring that it was still burning. He heard Doflamingo utter a low chuckle behind him. It made his face blush. Crocodile flared his nostrils, waiting for the heat collecting on his face to ease, and for Doflamingo to stop all that noise.
"…you miss me," he heard Doflamingo declare. "I'm tied up here for a reason. You just gotta have me for yourself."
"You ruined a lot of things," Crocodile said, turning around and staring down Doflamingo with a threatening look. "I have an impression to make."
"I believe it." Doflamingo shifted his shoulders upward. "But I don't believe you'd make a trade with a warlord without a good enough reason. Tell me, what did you do to piss off Whitebeard?"
Crocodile just about to head back to his seat when Doflamingo had the misfortune to ask that question. He stopped himself, and then turned and stared at the wall adorned with various weapons.
"Miss All-Sunday mentioned something about Kaido," he murmured, letting his eyes rest on a metal pole. "Care to let me in on that?"
Doflamingo laughed. "Oh…you know," he cackled. "Any trade is a good trade."
Crocodile slowly made his way over to the long selection of tools. Robin did make an excellent point about not being too rough with the hostage. Doflamingo had lost any intrinsic value now that he had admitted he was no chemist, but that didn't mean Crocodile couldn't make the most out of him. And Doflamingo could survive bruises, better than he could several drilled in holes.
"You pissed off Kaido?" Crocodile asked, staring up at the wall.
"You started it," Doflamingo answered. He hummed out another sigh. Crocodile let his eyes wander the wall, counting the second sit took for Doflamingo to summing up the strength to continue. "I'll admit, things were not going as planned right from the start, but I'd have managed, were it not for that woman of yours."
The honesty of the answer was bad enough. Doflamingo's voice was no longer shaking, but giving up all this information as a matter of fact, like it was ordinary news, made it so much worse. It made it impossible to celebrate.
"So then," Crocodile said, reaching out and grabbing the pole hanging from the all. "We're both screwed?"
"Not necessarily," Doflamingo called. Crocodile heard him make some more movements across the floor. He was beginning to wonder if giving him this much freedom was a good idea. He was already beginning to regret it. Doflamingo was such a pest. " We're in trouble, but I imagine I have some time to get packing. Japan is a very far away place. Kaido needs time to send his men over…"
"A shame that you'll never know when it hits," Crocodile said, turning around. He lifted the pole up, letting Doflamingo take a good look at it. "With a busted phone? You'll never get the call from your men informing you of your failure."
Doflamingo raised his head up as best he could, staring up at the long, dull pole held in Crocodile's hand. If he was afraid, he wasn't letting it show.
"You know," Doflamingo began, "they're probably on their way down here."
"Your men?" Crocodile asked lowering his arm.
"Yes," he replied. "A good friend of mine saw what had happened to me…there is no way he'd simply let this stand." He inched his way closer. "Other than my right hand, I've got three excellent men probably planning an attack on this house."
"I was told there had been no calls."
"Fufufufu!" The laughter made Crocodile's mouth go sour. "Well," Doflamingo said. "They're not about to waste precious battery life, are they? What's the point? Ruins the surprise attack!"
"You're so sure they'll come." Crocodile took the single step needed to being himself close enough to Doflamingo. "You place so much faith in your subordinates."
Doflamingo was paler than he remembered. There was a light tan coating his skin, and the bright colors he chose to adorn emphasized the dark tone. But Doflamingo was pale. He was sickly. He was running out of time.
"They'll come." Doflamingo rolled on to his back and stared up at Crocodile. "And when they do, you're going to wish you left my face looking good…"
Crocodile raised a brow. "Excuse me?"
Doflamingo laughed again. He used his shoulder to wipe away a tear. "Seriously, Crocodile!" He sighed, opening his eye. "Do you think I'm going to let you get away with this? As wonderful as this reunion is…you've gone and ruined everything! And I do mean everything. I had all this amazing stuff planned out, from drugs, to selling people, to making a name for myself in the back market."
He coughed, and Crocodile could tell that just speaking was becoming painful. The medicine was wearing off. It wouldn't be long before Doflamingo struggled to speak.
"I was planning on finding and procuring you for myself," Doflamingo said. "I'd have someone sniff you out, and then I'd buy my way back inside of your…." He paused, watching Crocodile make a look of disgust at him before chuckling and continuing, "heart. I'd win my way back into your heart."
Crocodile's hand stung as it gripped the pole. "Such a ridiculous plan."
"But now you've ruined it all." Doflamingo's voice was shaking again. Was it the pain, or was he upset? Crocodile needed to know. "And now I'm going to have to make some kind of example out of you. Otherwise, my buddies will think I'm hopeless, and I can't have that."
Crocodile raised the pole up, pressing it against Doflamingo's chest. "Will you make an example of me?" He laughed. "Hilarious…you? While you're tied up on the floor?"
Doflamingo smirked. "I said I'd have you for myself." The words slurred out and made Crocodile anxious. He wanted to take another step back. Doflamingo blinked, wetting his single eye. "And now that I have you here…I'm going to make sure that we do not get separated again."
Crocodile snorted. He poked Doflamingo's chest with the pole, using enough force to earn a heavy grunt from the tied-up man. "And how will you manage that?" he taunted. "What will you do when I choose to leave?"
He watched Doflamingo's smile ease, and then form into a frown. "Well, obviously, I kill you for being disobedient." He sniffed, wincing with his eye. "But…as far as I can tell, you wont be leaving this room. Not now. Not while I have this much control."
Crocodile shook his head. He nearly dropped the pole in favor of covering his mouth to muffle some of the sounds of his laughter.
"You?" he mocked. He jabbed Doflamingo in the stomach, this time Doflamingo stopping himself from making any sounds. Crocodile didn't appreciate it. "You think you're in control?" He knelt down, bringing his hook close to Doflamingo's face. "Did you forget where you are? Why you're here? Did Miss All-Sunday forget to mention the things I've done to people who piss me off?"
Doflamingo tried moving away from the hook. He made a small grin, and this time Crocodile could tell it was the pain beginning to hit and soak his wakened nerves. "Yes, well…all I really need to do is survive your tantrum, and then I get to enact some necessary punishment back…" He heaved in his next breath. "…But you won't leave. I know you wont. We'll leave this room together, alive, or one of us dead…but you will not leave until I let you."
Crocodile leered, pressing the end of his hook up to Doflamingo's chin. "And what has you thinking that?"
Doflamingo's only eye began to water. The painkillers had left the body. Crocodile waited to see if the man would sniff, cry, wriggle around in agony at the pain Robin had inflected on him.
Instead, Doflamingo forced a grin on his face. "We've played this game before, Crocodile."
Crocodile sneered. "What?" he asked.
Doflamingo's grin spread further. "Every time you so much as lay a finger on me…I'll fight back. With words. And I'll make it hurt so bad…because I know your weakness."
The threat certainly felt familiar. Crocodile couldn't remember the details, but he did recall Doflamingo saying something along the same lines, once before. But right now Crocodile saw a man, tied up at the wrists and ankles, weak without food or water, drained of some blood, and possibly dying after hours of enduring pain.
The threat was meaningless.
He grinned back at Doflamingo. "A finger?" he stated before raising his left arm and brought it down, smacking the base of his prosthetic against Doflamingo's head.
Doflamingo hissed in pain, curling his body as the only means of deflection. Crocodile stood himself up, picking up the pole and taking a step back to take in the glorious sight of Doflamingo writhing in pain, barely able to stop himself from screaming out.
"There's my response to that." Crocodile nodded his head at his own statement. The man beneath him whimpered some more. He looked up at the door and figured he might as well rub salt into the wound and leave Doflamingo to suffer some more in silence. With other sensations coming alive, he'd go back upstairs and have a quick meal before coming back down and tormenting Doflamingo some more.
"Fu…fufufu." He heard Doflamingo struggle out a laugh. "Look at you…"
Crocodile began his trek back up the stairs.
"All those pretty clothes…the rings, and that hook of yours," Doflamingo continued, sniffing out every other word, "and you're still the same, scared little boy. No, wait…you didn't use that word."
Crocodile stopped midway.
"Fufufu. I remember," Doflamingo said. "I remember what you called yourself. Do you? You must, since you were so upset."
Crocodile dropped the pole and held on to the stair's railing.
"…I'm sorry, if it matters," Doflamingo went on. "I shouldn't have gone and did that in the first place. But, hey, you know, I was horny. And you sort of gave the impression that it was cool."
Crocodile's lips curled. He bit into them, tasting some blood.
"And, to be fair," Doflamingo hesitantly added. Crocodile was already heading back down the stairs, passing the pole, eager to stop Doflamingo from finishing the sentence. But he was too late. "You finished all around me." He was always too late with Doflamingo. "I don't think I'd have been able to cum myself, were it not for that wonderful feeling."
Crocodile's leg shook. He stared down at Doflamingo, who was now looking up at him, now frightened, but obviously proud of himself for proving his point.
"Tell me," Doflamingo purred out. No. Now. Do it now.
Crocodile raised his foot up, letting Doflamingo get a good look at the soles and heel of his shoe.
"Does that girl of yours come close to getting you to–"
He brought his foot down, and this time Crocodile made sure Doflamingo screamed.
-Then-
The sun was setting low, and the air within the luxurious home was growing cooler. Doflamingo's room was perhaps the only exception, refusing to let go of the collected body heat from a few hours ago.
Crocodile remained in the bed, covered completely in sheets. The heat from the bed had dissipated, and the moisture evaporated.
Crickets were chirping outside. In this weather. Crocodile covered himself up to the eyes, trying to make sense of himself. He stared out in the direction of the door, where he had last seen Doflamingo wander through. His toes curled for the umpteenth time, cramping and sending up a dull pain up his legs. It traveled as far as stomach, where it withered and camouflaged behind a blinding sensation that lingered all around Crocodile's lower region.
Nothing could remove it. It was still there. It was an immeasurable pain that would not leave. Crocodile was sure the actual pain had gone, subsided naturally with the development of hormones released during any sort of sexual intercourse. He longed for its return. He could handle the dry, ripping sensation over this hollow feeling deep inside, made sicker and fuller with the knowledge that Doflamingo had finished inside of him.
It was disgusting.
Crocodile refused to move from his spot. He didn't know what he was supposed to do with himself, afraid that standing would cause everything to fall out of him. That's what it felt like. Everything, from Doflamingo's foul fluid to his failing internal organs, was at risk of pouring out of Crocodile's frail body once he stood up.
This pathetic, freakish body that was neither male nor female.
Crocodile covered his hot face with the sheets.
There had been some doubts in his mind about this body. Crocodile had undergone a transition young enough to not have to endure the horrors of a voluptuous, female figure. He was lucky enough to never have to worry about having his chest cut open and sliced apart. But it was the gash between his legs that had brought him misery. It had only happened once in his life, but he had experienced bleeding, and that had been enough for him to push and have that part of…not him removed.
It was never a part of him. It had been so alien and impossible to familiarize with. It was something that had just happened, right under his nose, without any sort of warning. It was his body rejecting itself for not becoming inseminated and filling up with life. It was everything Crocodile was against, stealing up nutrients and energy, existing inside of him just so it could bleed out like a dying animal.
Crocodile had it removed. He was told without estrogen, other parts would stop growing, and would even shrink over time. He was told the hole would dry up, cease to function like it did before. He was told so many things. Crocodile told himself it brought him closer to becoming a real male.
But now he was trapped in Doflamingo bedroom. Now he was miles away from home, and he didn't even know what he was.
He wasn't a man. Men don't get raped, that's for sure.
"Crocodile!" He heard steps in the hall. Crocodile closed his eyes, letting the warm air surrounding him bring temporary comfort. "Crocodile, my ears are burning. I think they're infected."
He brought his hand to his chest as he waited for Doflamingo to tear away the covers, expose him like before and take advantage of him at his weakest. Crocodile had let it happen. He let feelings get in the way of things. He let Doflamingo pull him into the bedroom. He let this body fall for such a simple trap.
This is what happens when people let other's in. He should have known better.
"Crocodile?" He heard Doflamingo drop down. He felt a hand press against the top covers, against him. "Are you awake?"
Crocodile opened his eyes, feeling them burn.
His eyes were dry, and he was wet and oozing from in between his legs.
"…You came." The boy sounded incredibly defensive. Other than that, there was no sign that Doflamingo might have felt bad about what had happened. Doflamingo was giving excuses. Crocodile sniffed. This meant Doflamingo felt bad about something. But was he feeling bad about hurting him? "Croco…hey."
Crocodile curled deeper into the fetal position. "Yes," he whispered, feeling his face blush with shame.
"My earlobes hurt." the boy rubbed his hand against the sheets and across Crocodile's shoulder.
Crocodile blinked again, feeling his eyes water, rejecting the comforting touch, and accepting the consequences for allowing himself to get so close to another person.
"Crocodile…" and now he almost sounded hurt. "They hurt." Oh, of course they do.
"We'll go buy something for it later," he grumbled. He wiped his eyes, feeling the blinding pain crawl up into his chest, laying there and making breathing difficult. "Just…leave. I'm tired."
It was a mistake he would never make again.
Now. Do it now.
