A/N: Yo, howzit goin' guys? It's been like seventeen days since I updated, and I'm so sorry! I don't know why, but I just had a lot of trouble with getting this chapter together for some reason. Writer's block sucks, you guys. But anyways, I finally finished it and I hope it turned out okay even though I had so much trouble with it. This is also the longest chapter I've written so far at just over 3000 words. Does that make up for it being late? Probably not. Well anyways, I'll stop rambling now. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Twelve:

The Execution

Grace had never been to Loguetown before, but she thought it was safe to say it was the liveliest it had ever been. There were people everywhere. A lot of them were visiting from far off places, so the streets were practically flooded with folks from all walks of life. There were lots of marines stationed around as well—all of whom were positively radiating with giddy triumph. Grace supposed she couldn't fault them for being happy. It wasn't every day they got to bear witness to a such a high profile execution. Indeed, it was history in the making. After years full of regrettable failure, the infamous Pirate King had finally been captured. That was why people flocked to this port town in East Blue. They all wanted to catch a glimpse of the fallen king and eagerly awaited for the next day to roll around to see the end of his reign.

Grace, however, could only frown as she gazed out at the sea of people bustling through the streets. She'd had the displeasure of overhearing something she shouldn't have—something that left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Gol D. Roger had turned himself in.

Whatever sense of excitement she had felt before then quickly disappeared. It was so wrong. How could anyone call it a victory when it was just handed to them? Her frown deepened. The worst part was that the marines didn't acknowledge his easy surrender. They acted like they had accomplished something grand, like they had forced him to his knees and shacked him against his will. And now they planned to make an example of him to show the world that no one could stand up against the World Government. But Roger could, Grace thought. He still could. If he didn't want to be there, he wouldn't be. The dishonesty made Grace' skin crawl. Not that she should be preaching honesty, but still. It felt dirty.

On top of all that, she had to wonder why. Why would a man who had everything give it all up just like that?

She pondered quietly for a little while before deciding that it would be best to simply let it go. She wouldn't be able to figure out the answer all on her own anyway. Grace instead turned her attention to the docks as she passed by on her patrol route. She could see ships coming and going, though most of them were coming. Passengers filed off the sea vessels and impatiently waited for the marine officers in charge of inspecting their luggage to finish up so they could try to find an inn that still had rooms left. This influx of newcomers was good for businesses on the island, but it also meant that things would be more chaotic if something went wrong during the execution.

Grace sighed as she gazed at all the commotion, hoping that the whole thing would end without too much trouble.

Shanks felt as though he were walking through a haze. It seemed like just yesterday he got the news that the captain was in the marines' custody and after that, it felt like time had started moving quicker. The days had gone by in a blur, and he only vaguely remembered the trip to Loguetown before he found himself looking around at the captain's birthplace.

He trudged along behind Buggy and Rayleigh as they traversed the streets in search of a pub. The redhead knew the next few days at least would be filled with countless empty bottles. He wasn't really looking forward to it.

The motley group eventually happened upon a tavern that seemed to be reserved for people on the wrong side of the law. It's patrons had probably congregated there because of the increased number of marines patrolling the town and this establishment was out of the public eye for the most part. It would be a good spot to lay low for a while. They could drown their troubles in alcohol and try to ignore the somber cloud that weighed down their spirits.

But Shanks wasn't really feeling it. The thought of booze didn't appeal to him like it normally would. He was overtaken by a cold numbness that made him feel...

Nothing.

Maybe for the first time, Shanks simply felt nothing. Everything that made him who he was seemed to be missing, or rather, it was there but it was out of arms reach. Some part of him knew it was a sort of "calm before the storm" situation. Something in his mind was keeping his emotions sedated so that he wouldn't have to endure the hellish reality that soon he was going to lose someone important to him.

Shanks looked around at his friends, noticing that they seemed to be in a similar funk. It made him restless. He didn't like the atmosphere. He needed a distraction, or at least some sense of normalcy to keep him grounded.

Rayleigh noticed the redhead's subconscious fidgeting and eyed him carefully. He sighed and took a swig from the bottle in his hand before addressing the younger lad. "You know, you don't have to stick around here..." he said.

Shanks looked up, puzzled. "Huh?"

"If you're not gonna drink, then there's no point in staying, is there?"

The redhead looked at the untouched mug of beer in front of him. He reached towards it, but his hand didn't quite make it to the handle. He really didn't feel like drinking it, and forcing it down would just make it taste bad. After a moment of contemplation, Shanks looked back at Rayleigh. "...Is it okay if I go take a walk or something?"

"You don't have have to ask permission. I'm not in charge of you."

"Right..." That little reminder made him feel especially glum. He steeled himself and got ready to leave the pub. Just before he left, he heard Rayleigh call out to him.

"You should check out the port over on the east side. You might find something you like." he said cryptically.

Shanks was slightly puzzled by the suggestion because he knew that most of the harbors on the island were occupied by marines at the moment, but he decided to check it out anyway. Rayleigh wouldn't lead him astray on purpose. He had to be discreet, though. There were a lot of eyes he needed to avoid if he had any hope of laying low. The redhead tried to stay toward the center of the crowds filling the streets where the marines keeping watch wouldn't be able to see him clearly. He looked around for anything that stood out.

All he saw were tourists and marines on high alert and he had to wonder why Rayleigh would send him there. It didn't seem like there was anything there for him. Just a bustling crowd full of people eager to see his captain die.

Shanks felt a lump form in his throat at the thought, and all of a sudden he felt claustrophobic. He pushed his way out of the crowd, momentarily forgetting about about the military officers stationed at almost every corner, and bee-lined right for an alley cluttered with empty barrels and crates left over from sold out merchandise from all the shops in the area. He took a deep breath to relax his constricting chest. He didn't want to fall apart. Not yet.

After getting a hold of himself, he became aware of a set of voices near the entrance of the alley and hastily crouched behind a barrel. "—sure you didn't see him? I coulda swore he went this way..."

"No, sorry." Shanks felt his heart skip a beat at the female voice. "I haven't seen any pirates on this side, let alone any of Roger's crew." The redhead carefully peered out from behind his hiding spot and his eyes were immediately drawn to the woman's back. She stood with her weight resting mostly on one foot and one hand placed on her hip while the other rested limp by her side, all very casual and relaxed. But Shanks couldn't help but notice that she was subtly blocking the other marine from investigating the alley.

"Well, if you do see him, sound the alarm."

"Of course." They exchanged a salute and the unfamiliar marine went on his way. Grace stayed put for a moment, checking to make sure the coast was clear, and then slipped into the alley with a frown. She pointed her finger at Shanks' chest as he rose from his crouched position. "You are so lucky I'm on patrol duty today!" she hissed. "What are you thinking? Waltzing around in broad daylight right in front of marines..." she shook her head. "I know you're an idiot, but this seems pointlessly risky..."

"Eh, you're not wrong..." Shanks scratched the back of his head. "I don't really know what I'm doing here either..." Unless... He squinted at Grace, thoughtful. Could it be that Rayleigh had sent him there because of her? No, that can't be right...Can it? Then again, she was definitely something he liked...

"Well, whatever, it doesn't matter. You need to go. Back to whatever hole in the wall you pirates are hiding in." The marine started to look for a blind spot out on the main street so the redhead could slip away unnoticed.

"Wait..." Shanks pulled her back towards the safety of the cluttered alley, away from the prying eyes out in the streets. "Can't we stay here for a little while?" he asked. He trace circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.

"What? No! I have to patrol the docks."

"Just a few minutes, Gracie..." He lifted her hand to his face and pressed his cheek against her palm. "Please?" The hint of despair in his voice was readily noticeable even to his own ears and the way the marine's expression softened with pity told him that she could hear it too.

"Shanks..."

"So cruel..." he pouted. "I'm hurting and you don't even want to comfort me..."

"I'm cruel? You're the one trying to guilt trip me." Grace sighed. "I'm sorry, but I can't indulge you this time. Everybody's on high alert right now, and my absence will be noticed. Even if it's only a few minutes."

Shanks knew she was right, but it didn't make him any less disappointed. "Fine..." he pouted. He pressed his lips against her palm one last time before letting go. She gently caressed his cheek with her thumb, an uncharacteristic show of affection that made the redhead's heart melt.

"Don't let anybody see you, okay?"

He swallowed down the butterflies trying to escape his stomach and nodded. "Okay..." With that, Grace took her leave. Shanks touched his cheek and was thankful for the warm feeling that spread through his body. It might not have been enough to take his mind off of everything, but at least it would hold the darkness at bay for just a little longer.

Grace stood up straight on the slightly elevated platform off to the side of Loguetown's main square. There were similar platforms dotting the edge of the square with other marines on guard, all armed with rifles just in case things went downhill. The atmosphere was tense, filled with the impatient excitement of those who wanted to see Roger's downfall. The wait wouldn't be long. In mere minutes he would be escorted from his prison cell to the scaffold that would serve as his deathbed.

"Man, you could cut the tension with a knife..." Tully was standing next to her, looking as laid back as always. Warren, who was on Tully's other side, only hummed affirmation. He was as stoic as ever, but with a noticeable crease between his eyebrows. "You still bothered?" the brunette asked.

"What do you think?" the blond huffed.

"I think you're still bothered."

"Of course I am!" He kept his voice low. "All thanks t' her!"

Grace rolled her eyes. "You ever hear the phrase, 'Don't shoot the messenger?' I didn't do anything."

"Ya coulda waited 'til after all of this to tell us—"

"Hey hey hey, shhhh!" Tully nudged Warren's arm. "Don't forget where we are!" he whispered.

Earlier that morning before the three of them got to their post, Grace had burst their bubble by telling them the truth of Roger's surrender. She kind of felt bad, sure, but she had felt worse before she did it. She let them believe the lie for too long.

The duo went on whispering to each other a Grace tuned them out.

She let her eyes scan the crowd gathered in the square, wondering where Shanks might be. She knew he was there somewhere, but there were too many people for her to pick him out. Perhaps that was for the better. When she thought about how forlorn he looked the day before, she hated to think what he must look like now. The marine tightened her grip on her rifle. She tried to push those thoughts away, but she couldn't quite shake the sense of dread she felt on the redhead's behalf. Just knowing that this whole event would crush him made Grace feel bitter.

She tutted her tongue. She was already harboring disapproval over how Roger's surrender was being handled, she didn't need to start wishing things could be different for Shanks' sake, too. In that moment, she might have resented her budding attraction to that likable fool. Just a bit.

Finally, she saw Roger enter the scene and she turned her attention on him. His shackles rattled, the only thing breaking the tense silence that had befallen the crown as he walked along the path towards the execution platform. The man had a damned smile on his face from what Grace could see, and he wore it all the way to the top of the platform, even as he sat down and waited for the executioners to get it over with.

She didn't understand. Who could smile as they're about to die?

A smiling face flashed across her mind, one that looked a little too much like her own. No. Grace squashed the thought before it could take root. Now wasn't the time for memories.

Suddenly someone yelled from the crowd. "Hey! Pirate King!" All eyes turned towards the source of the voice, curious. "What did you do with your treasure?! It's somewhere out on the Grand Line, isn't it?! One Piece?!" Grace heard a few whispers as others from the crowd began wondering about it too. A marine officer shouted at the speaker to hold his tongue, and Roger began laughing.

"My treasure?" He asked. The executioners swiftly readied their blades and told him to be quiet. "If you want it, you can have it. Go ahead and look for it." The executioners pulled back their blades, going in for the kill. "I left it all at that place!" The blades struck his chest, silencing him for good, but even then his grin never left his face.

For a few heartbeats that felt like an eternity, there was silence. And then the people started cheering. The marines gazed around at them in disbelief. It was like the Pirate King's execution had the exact opposite effect than what was intended. The people were overtaken by wild fantasies involving what they could do with Roger's vast wealth. It was kind of daunting, seeing a bunch of otherwise normal citizens be consumed by their sudden spark of greed.

Grace, along with the other marines stationed in the square, tried to get a handle on the situation. They tried to calm the crowd and remind them that the execution was supposed to be a warning, but their words fell on deaf ears.

Things seemed to spiral out of control. The crowd began dispersing when people got the idea start preparing for a grand voyage in search of unimaginable wealth.

It didn't help that it suddenly started raining.

Grace sighed as she looked around at the mild chaos ensuing in Loguetown. She was at a loss for what to do. The citizens bustling about excitedly weren't technically breaking any laws, so nobody could arrest them. She watched some of her comrades try to talk sense into them, but it was a fool's errand. No one was listening.

As Grace scanned the unruly crowd, she saw something that made her breath catch. She was too far away to see him very clearly in the rain, but everything about his body language screamedanguish. His normally animated confidence had been reduced to trembling shoulders and down-turned eyes. Her heart ached with sympathy as she watched him stumble off and disappear into the crowd again.

Shanks felt like he couldn't breathe. What little air he could get came in hiccups and his vision was blurred with tears he couldn't stop. He slumped over, leaning back against a wall for support. He wanted to just lay down and succumb to the suffocating grief weighing on him like a ton of bricks.

He knew this was coming but he still didn't want to believe it. His captain was really gone. The Roger Pirates really were over. Shanks' hand clutched the fabric of his shirt tightly as though it would ease the suffocating pain.

A set of cautious footsteps coming toward him momentarily pulled at his attention and he looked up expecting to see one of his friends coming to check on him or tell him they had to get going or something since there were so many marines around. However instead of a crew-mate, he locked eyes with an anxious Grace who looked at him with pity. He lowered his head so that his hat blocked her view of his face. He didn't want her to see him when he felt like he was on the verge of crumbling to pieces.

At the same time, though, there was a tiny part of him that wanted to reach out to her for comfort and have her chase away the black cloud hanging over his head.

As if reading his thoughts, Grace took a couple of tentative steps toward him until he could see her fiddling with her hands under the brim of his hat. She shifted from one foot to the other, and everything about her body language screamed uncertainty. She cleared her throat, and Shanks lifted his head so he could see her face clearly—or as clearly as he could when his eyes were blurred with moisture.

The marine couldn't seem to bring herself to look directly at him. Her eyebrows were scrunched together and her eyes darted every which way as though trying to find some hint for what to say. She looked very much out of her element to say the least. "I...Um..." She paused to collect herself. "Do you..." She trailed off, seemingly unable to finish her thought. She looked down, lips pursed.

Even if she couldn't get the words out, Shanks thought he got the message well enough. Without really thinking about it, he took a shaky step forward and nearly crumpled against the slightly socially awkward marine. His arms snaked around her torso and clutched her uniform tightly as he buried his face against the crook of her neck. He couldn't hold back the choking sobs that poured out of him when he felt her arms encircle his waist.

Grace stayed quiet, stiffly rubbing his back in an attempt to comfort him. She was tense and somewhere in the back of his mind, Shanks knew it was because of the risk involved with what she was doing. So he tried to get a hold of himself. He slowly, pulled away from the object of his affection and did his best to wipe away the tears and snot and rainwater soaking his face. "Thank you, Gracie..." He murmured quietly. "I should..." he sniffed. "I should probably...go..." he said reluctantly.

"Yeah..." Grace agreed. She started backing away, looking down with a dusting of red on her cheeks. "Um...S-stay safe, okay?"

Shanks watched her go until she was out of sight and then forced himself to search for his friends so he could drown his sorrows together with them.

A/N: The Pirate King is dead. Grace finally showed some affection. Where will things go from here I wonder?