"She just wouldn't understand, what I was doing was for the two of you. Why did she need to ruin it all?"

Sanji remained silent. If it weren't obvious before, it definitely was now that his father, Abel was having some sort of mad breakdown. He was spouting non-sense the cook could only vaguely follow, but knew that it held the answer he'd been waiting for for years.

"This was the biggest opportunity of our life and she just wanted to get away..."

Abel glanced over towards the window.

"So I killed her." That statement hadn't the least bit of remorse, but had the shock factor Sanji hadn't been expecting. In fact, it had an odd hint of triumphant.

Sanji didn't even know how to react. For almost his entire life he had thought the man before him was dead, slaughtered alongside his mother by the hands of a merciless organization, who had been tracking him down next as their target. But then to find out he was alive and that he'd actually killed his mother? It made him angry, confused and sick all at the same time.

But why? The question Sanji couldn't help but ask himself. What reason made his dad do such a thing and ruin their lives forever? Abel looked back over at him, a satisfied and wicked grin playing his features.

"It was a pretty simple decision. Her or... this." He gestured to the room with his hands. "I did it Sanji, I made it, the All Blue."

"What?" Sanji nearly croaked. This didn't make any sense! "You killed mom for what?" He looked around a little disoriented. He was having this conversation with the ghost of his father? About the death of his mother that apparently been murdered? What secret would he find out next? "For this.. Thing!?"

He was so angry he didn't even know what to call this shitty organization anymore or how to refer to it.

"She wanted to run away. Take you with her. Spill our secrets." Abel's anger seemed to grow by each sentence, a powerful stride moving him forward towards Sanji as he spoke, ignoring the obvious reaction of his son reaching for the device on his belt. "Secrets are this organization Sanji, you know that, you understand."

Sanji felt small under the glare of his father. Even if he was the one behind all of this, he couldn't wrap around the way the child inside him crumbled under it's father's authority.

"She tried to take me away... you killed her, then tried to kill me?" The clarity was overwhelming.

Abel snorted at that, absentmindedly pulling at his shirt and grinning at his own mistake. "Yeah well, messed up with that didn't I?"

"You fucking tortured me! The hell did that do for your secrets? Seemed like a pretty shitty plan to me! Why didn't you just kill me then?"

Abel looked at his hand, it was slightly shaking, his fingers awkwardly twitching, then they squeezed tightly together.

"Because.. You looked like her..." He huffed out of his nose. "Hell you looked like me.. staring up with those big eyes like a fucking puppy or some shit."

He looked back over at him, breathing deep from his chest and through his nostrils. "Where did momma go?" He parroted in a voice that could only be used to mimic that of a child.

A shiver ran down Sanji's spine. He knew that line, it was his own. It was part of a memory he'd locked deep inside himself, of course, but he would never forget the last time he had ever seen his dad, not counting the present.

Sanji's face went calm then, the defense he'd created himself to battle against the All Blue, the one he wore more than he'd ever like to admit, even among the crew, those closest to him. He lowered his chin, scowling over at his dead beat dad. This wasn't the time to play into his game and be shocked and allow him to play on his emotions. He was settled god dammit, he came to terms with all of this.

As far as Sanji knew, his father was dead just as he had always been told and this was nothing more than a strategy from his enemy. Besides, his objective was to gather information and here he was receiving quite the handful. If this was going to advance into a confrontation, Sanji would have to be careful. He didn't know a thing about his father when it came to fighting, though he didn't imagine it much since he hid behind an organization of men, but he himself wasn't at the top of his game either anymore.

"So like a coward you had someone else deal with your problem?"

Abel rolled his shoulder's back again. So his son had an edgy side to him as well? Son of a bitch found it something to be slightly proud of, of course his son was like him in that manner. He was also quite amazing having escaped death on several occasions. He too had found himself a qualified group of individuals to achieve his goal? Either way, he could not help even as a horrible fatherly figure to twitch at the shit the blonde was spitting from his tongue.

"I admit that was one of my faults, but I sought to settle the problem, even now I will."

"You do know we are talking about a child here! I was a child you bastard!"

"I know that you insufferable waste of space! But you are the secret Sanji. The biggest one that I cannot afford to let spill. How can I truly move forward when my family is still holding me back? Even now. Drop dead damn you!"
Sanji's eyes widen as he saw the swift moment in his father's arm. Abel reached to his hip, where a gun was settled in it's holster. He yanked it out, his fingers finding their positions and making the safety their bitch, aiming it swiftly out and at Sanji's head. Instincts were in the cook's favor though as he used the force of his legs to jump out of the way and to the side, tumbling only a few times before settling on his feet.

The window that had been behind him had been shattered by the bullet path, along with the plush office chair. A pity, it was actually kind of comfortable. He didn't have much time to think or so much as hiss, a slight pain edging up his side. What a fucking perfect and convenient time that his weakness would be acting up. The barrels of Abel's guns, as he had apparently another gun at his other side, were already aimed and firing.

Sanji had no choice but launch himself forward, tucking and rolling onto his feet. Damn. To think his dad would retreat to such a cowardly way to fight. Not necessarily the guns, but to send his devoted followers after him only to insult him with the use of a gun? Though Sanji shouldn't be complaining, either way he was in some deep shit here. Unfortunately so he could say that he was used to being the target.

"Just like she was, running, running, running!"

Sanji glared over at him as he began to approach. His hand hovered back over his belt. He had few options at his disposal. It hurt him, inside to know that his craft and style were within grasp, but at an ultimate price. No he could not use his blackleg style against his father. He could risk to much and end up immobilized here on the floor in the worst possible situation, as Sanji doubted there was much room for debate. But if he kept running as well..

Already he was having to dodge again. Damn it, if only he knew anything at all about firearms and how many bullets they stocked. His lower back was stinging in consistent pain. It would seem the blondes luck was running out as well. Because as he skidded back from jumping and dodging yet again, he found himself in front of the office's many windows. His father was approaching from the front, a little annoyed as it would seem one of his weapons ran out of the needed ammunition.

"It's not safe to keep hoping around like that is it?" Abel mused, gesturing with his weapon to the way Sanji held his hand low on his thigh while he was crouched low.

The cook was visibly shaking too, a hitch in his breath and sweat beginning at his brow. No doubt it was obvious it'd been more than a little bit of time he'd been out of action without straining himself so much.

"I can keep up." Sanji snapped, his determination refusing to whither.

Abel moved to put his empty gun back into it's holster, opening his jacket enough that his hand, once free of the weapon, moved to an inner pocket stitched in. From it he withdrew a small tube with an iconic red button at the end.

"You really wont have to." Sanji's father explained, holding it up high in his free hand, brushing his thumb temptingly over it. "Because as you see, I'm more than willing to do whatever I have to in order to keep everything here a secret from the outside world. I'm a big sore loser, I will admit, but I'll die for my cause."

Sanji nervously watched the thumb hover over the button. Was he suggesting what he thought he was suggesting? He knew that the storage basement, where he and Ace had entered was not just a minor convenience. Those explosions had been set there to blow all together for a reason, just like there was a reason his father was here now standing before him, why he allowed Sanji to gather his friends at the same time he knew all his operatives would be around..

He was going to blow this place so fucking far off the map that the All Blue would go back to being a legend. Abel was willing to risk it all, his shitty empire of an organization for mere secrets? And it all depended on that button. If only Sanji could- he froze, another jolt of pain running through him and nearly causing him to fall, but only resulting in a stumble, forward. Damn, his legs! Not now. He thought he would have more time. It wasn't like he could exactly pull out his modified cane either..

Abel laughed at his feeble son, approaching closer with caution.

"What was that about keeping up? I think being unable to move defeats the purpose of that, Sanji. Now how will you escape and survive me this time?" He grinned.

It was true, his legs had locked up on him, he could not make them move forward or back without risking his whole balance entirely. The last thing he needed was to fall onto the floor and give into his weakness, was all his years of preparing for this moment to face his horror for nothing? Then again, what kind of chief would Sanji be, if he couldn't also use his arms.

Taking a risk because his father was hovering around him only an arm lengths away, smug in the victory he already supposed he won, Sanji launched his arms out, his fingers, the ones that held the cuts from memories with his only real father, curled into the fabric of Abel's shirt. Then using the strength he knew he could muster, he swung his shocked father, who honestly apparently never expected him to do this, around. Sanji's heels turned, his legs giving it, but the deed had been done.

His arms swung and shifted Abel's weight, flinging him against the window behind him, shattering it instantly as he fell through, his eyes watching Sanji's pained expression as the glass did not even spare him when it chose which direction to fly. Sanji unfortunately, to assure his father's leap, was dragged down as well. Out of the corner of his eye, while it seemed like nothing more than falling in slow motion, he could see the ground coming closer, filling the three story gap.

Both men, mirroring each other only a generation apart, landed hard into the grass of the manor's lawn, among the glass and dirt. Sanji's grasp released the moment he met impact, a yell escaping his mouth as he landed, a surge of throbbing pain running through him. Because his back wasn't already messed up as it was. He winced, closing his eyes tight and reaching down, quickly feeling the top of his leg. They were there. Well, of course they were physically, but feeling wise, they were still there, he hadn't lost them, though their weight felt more like three tons, pinning Sanji to the ground.

Abel wasn't particularly silent about his falling either. In his panic, he had dropped both his emergency explosion button and his gun all at the same time. His hands were bleeding, the way he had rolled onto his knees, desperately searching the tiny pieces of glass among them for the device, since the gun was much easier to find.

"You stupid son of a bitch!" He yelled, cringing as another piece cut his hand. "You ruin everything!"

Sanji was breathing deeply now, trying to calm his body down from the impact's pain, his chest rising and falling as he glanced to his father. Damn, why couldn't he have landed head first, absorbed the impact and died? He was still up and kicking, had his gun while Sanji was immobilized?

Abel, frustrated that in the small amount of time he'd been frantically searching he could not find his controller, glowered over at his son. He got up off his knees and began walking towards him, the glass under his boots crunching in a most satisfying way. He dropped down on Sanji's side, roughly pinning his arm that he dared to try and lift in protest and dug the barrel of his gun down into his shirt.

"Screw it, I don't need it if I can finally rid myself of you. Then after your friends all fail by loosing to my men, I will be free."

Sanji couldn't help but snort, even in his current state. It was worth it, seeing the more rage it evoked in his father.

"They wont die. Even if you press that shitty button, they wont."
Abel's blood was boiling through his veins. That smug face, the face that mimic'd the former love of his life, was laughing at him. She was laughing at him through Sanji, spitting it in his face that she was right. That this would become his undoing. He just couldn't handle it anymore, he was so fucking angry, snarling, he just had to stop that fucking grin!

Sanji had maybe a split second to brace himself for the straight punch to the side of his face. No time to process what happened when it happened again from the other side, part of his father's firearm clipping him in the temple. Blood trickled from his mouth. It wasn't until his eyes had that sort of glaze to them, that Abel held his hand. He glared down at the discoloration already beginning on his son's face, the tears that stained his cheek and there was a glint of light in his fatherly eyes.

He began to laugh slightly under his breath. Had he finally done it? Killed his son? His laugh grew into thunderous kackling and he fell back, sitting back next to the body of Sanji. Eventually though, his laughter shifted, turning into mournful sobs and growls. He was angry. Why had it been that easy? He was expecting more of a fight! To think he'd actually been nervous.. ordered rounds and rounds of TNT.

In his frustration he threw his gun, watching as it tumbled on the ground before getting up. It was over, but why did he not feel relief? Though, the son of a bitch turned slightly, looking at Sanji again. It was such a shame, why did they have to try and defy him, all those years ago? It was Abel's wish that his Sanji could join him, but because of her..no. Though it was hard to see now because of the blood on his face, at least in death he didn't have to look like her, something Abel was wickedly passing off as a favor to his former son. It was already his fate to fail, so he could have at least spared him this.

He turned back to his manor, hissing at the visual of smoke rising from the sides and some of the windows towards the bottom. He gets a little distracted and the whole place goes to hell. Abel began walking towards the building, reaching back to that hidden pocket in his coat and fetching a cigarette and it's accompanied lighter.

0

"This is your new home kid, get used to it." A young fullbody snapped, holding only the top of his shoulder's and head outside of the door to a white, windowless room.

Tiny Sanji frowned, staring up at him with big wondrous eyes. He didn't know anything that was going on. One moment he had been at home with his parents. They had just had dinner, Pasta, Sanji's favorite. Then he had gone and got his book, just like his papa had told him, so that they could read and go to bed when suddenly, plan's changed.

Sanji could remember, as he held on tighter to his picture book, how he had waited up a few hours just for his dad to come find him. He was so busy lately, it was really the only time they got to be together and talk about their dreams. But then, when his dad finally came in to see him, things were different. He looked ill and he had been crying.

A miniature Sanji had suggested an imaginary check up, but was ultimately denied when his father told him that they were going on an adventure soon. The young blonde was a sucker for those, evident by his taste in books alone. But that's when things got confusing. His father had mentioned finding their All Blue and reading him his favorite story like always, but why had that brought him here, to a place he was unfamiliar with.

His tears were still running down his cheeks in his confusion, because they took them. These men he had never known, had grabbed him from his father's side. He had kicked and screamed, the usual routine he was taught to escape strangers, but it was useless, his father watched giving him nothing more than a silent apology off his lips that the future cook would misinterpret for years to come. Sorry for not being what you thought or sorry for doing this to you?

Those men had thrown him in here, in the white room, where after sniffling away his tears and putting up a brave front he pulled his book back up from the ground, holding it tighter. He ignored Fullbody's statement and wiped at his eyes.

"Where is my papa? Momma?"

Fullbody made an annoyed noise from the back of his throat, opening the door more and taking a half step inside. Under his breath he cussed at having been stuck with such a useless task.

"They're dead kid. We killed them."

"Dead...?"
"Yeah. Dead. No more. Six feet under. Get used to it." Fullbody didn't even try to sugarcoat it.

Sanji hugged his book tighter, glancing down at the words that had always got him by, the ones he recognized even seeing them upside down. All Blue. His papa couldn't be dead. They had a promise, a dream to fulfill. He had to go find him, he was going to read him his story. Without thinking, the young Sanji ran forward, pressing his body weight and his strength into Fullbody, trying to push him back, despite he seemed to be a solid wall.

"No! He can't be!" He cried out, lifting his beloved book to start using it as a weapon, hitting the pink haired guards knees. "I have to find him! He's going to read me the story! We're going to find all blue!"

Fullbody rolled his eyes, grabbing Sanji's hair annoyingly, before using it as a handle and physically throwing him back on his bottom.

"Sheesh! You're an annoying little shit aren't you?" He cursed, bending down and taking Sanji's beloved book in front of him. "Calm your shit and maybe I'll give this back."

He looked down at the cover, somewhat amused by the cover. "Well, doesn't that explain a lot..."

Fullbody tucked it under his arm and glanced over the crying blonde child before turning out the door and holding it's knob tightly. He glared at the youngster.

"Hey, do me a favor will ya? Die quick." Then, as Sanji watched helplessly, the door slammed to a close and the lock clicked tight.

0

Abel snorted, taking his first drag of a victory smoke. Just remembering about old times made this win so much sweeter. He stopped though, slipping his lighter back in, but paused. His eyes widened again, an extreme pressure ripping through his chest until finally the foreign burn was gone, bursting through his clothes in a splash of crimson.

He stared down, his jaw open at the hole through his chest. A bullet? But how? It couldn't be.. He turned slowly, unable to breath properly at what he saw. Sanji wasn't on the ground anymore and there was no sight of him. The only thing in Abel's sight, was a ghost of a former flame. This, this was how Sanji had felt no more than half an hour ago?

The image wife stood with his gun he'd discarded earlier drawn, her blonde hair down across her shoulder's, her blue eyes in pain. She wore the same blood soaked lavender nightgown she had the night of her death.

"Ivonne..." He whispered silently the name of his wife. Damn her, spiting him with her image, with her face, even in death.

It was the last thing he would see, as Sanji wasted no moment to make the head shot. Then, officially he dropped the empty gun. He gasped out, stumbling around a bit from the surge of adrenaline that he'd used to get up and grab the weapon in the first place, before slowly crumbling down to the ground, resting on his hands and spitting out blood from his teeth and mouth onto the grass.

How anyone could be an actor in the face of death was beyond him, acting dead was no easy task when it felt like he was actually dying. His fingers gripped and pulled out some grass as he glared up at the manner. Fires had spread and now that his focus could run wild, he could hear the fighting all around him. Using his elbows he began to crawl. It was dangerous if he was target number one still on everyone's lists to remain in the open.

Author's Note: Read on homeeeee. Next chapters waiting for you