A/N: Sorry! Sorry sorry! I didn't mean to let this lapse for so long! I just got distracted updating on Ao3, and sort of... ran out of spoons to update in multiple places all the time. I can't promise it won't happen again, but I will do my best! I can't abandon you lovelies! Enjoy~!
Chapter 10: Just How Deep Does the Rabbit Hole Go?
"Hm."
His eyes skimmed the letter for what had to be the fourth or fifth time. His dark brows were knitted together and a tension trembled just barely visible along his jawline as the only signs that something was amiss. Otherwise, his somewhat lanky form was relaxed in the chair at his desk within their cabin aboard the Flying Pan. One hand twirled a pen, letting the feathers brush the back, though he downright refused to admit that it was because he missed the feeling of those soft brush-like touches against his skin.
In the bed behind him, a much bulkier figure rose and stretched, spine and joints popping. A pale white, black-nailed hand raked fiery locks out of a rugged, craggy face, wine-red eyes flickering open as that hulking form slid from the bed and came over to the desk, draping itself over the slimmer man. His single hand slid over the other captain's shoulder, thumb rubbing at his neck as his deep rumble of a voice forced its gravelly way out of his chest.
"Oi. Yer givin' off the Surgeon of Death vibes. What's got'cha in such a bad mood firs' thin' in th' mornin', eh?"
"It appears Luffy-ya has discovered something troubling." Imperceptibly leaning into the touch, the brunet adjusted the letter so that his co-captain and lover could read the neatly printed writing from the head chef of the All-Blue. "Someone who dared still breathe after he was punished is daring further by being disrespectful enough to fly a flag that should have remained retired."
Garnet eyes skimmed it at first, then backtracked and re-read it once, twice, three times, the wide mouth that so easily stretched into a smile frowning deeper and deeper with each reading. "...well fuck. One'a the old man's toys managed to live past bein' broken. I thought after th' business with Moria yer dad got better at cleanin' up his messes. I can't even remember this lil' shitfuck. But th' cook ain't one fer false alarms." He was quiet for a second, then sighed deeply. "...I'll get m' goggles."
His goggles, iconic and treasured as they were, had in these more peaceful times ceased to be necessary. They protected his eyes and nose while welding tiny bits, but after Luffy became king and they flew beneath his flag, things had been... nice. Peaceful, except when smallfry were spoiling for a fight. So, his goggles had moved from his forehead to his neck, then to a pocket, and finally into a drawer. There they had stayed these past years. He didn't need them anymore. But now… now he did. Damn it all.
He'd need to get out his mechanical battle-arm, overhaul and fine-tune the thing too. Fuck. He'd retired that thing; he was going to practically have to rebuild it from scratch. The magnetism master frowned, losing himself for a moment in mentally re-working the schematics. The sound of his lover's voice drew his attention back to the slender man.
"He was something that was supposed to have been crushed before the Joker met Luffy-ya in person." The smaller of the two placed both the letter and the pen he'd been playing with on the desk and stood to gather his coat and hat. "I will inform the crew to set a course for Raftel. The Strawhats will have what you need I'm sure."
He, too, was irritated that the peace among the Pirates, however unlikely it was, was being disrupted. With no World Government controlling things, the three factions of the world had reached a mutual understanding of avoidance and tolerance. As long as people didn't do nonsense like this, everybody at least put up with each other without resorting to powers and weapons. Most of the big name Pirates looked to Luffy as the king, following his example for how to treat others, and almost all of them had a territory that was theirs to control and protect. Being a rowdy bunch things weren't always exactly what the surgeon would call tranquil but it had been peace in some sense. It had been relaxing, and enjoyable being able to simply concentrate on his studies without worrying about being chased by Marines. It allowed him to devote time to research things that would ordinarily have been considered trivial, even weak.
Beyond all of that though, how dare that peon fly that flag! Though Don had never been his father exactly, he had been as good as one. Especially after Cora… Law felt his heart clench at the thought of how they'd been betrayed. Even to this day the name Vergo was a curse on his lips, and none of the Family had ever truly been the same afterwards. He supposed that was the defining moment, when he'd returned to being obstinate and willful. The large Shichibukai had tried so terribly hard to impress on him that he was the man's son, but the eventual Surgeon of Death had flat out refused so many times that it became a joke between them. It showed how much he cared, however, in situations like this. Even if Luffy and the Strawhats for some reason managed to be defeated by the smallfry who dared show his face again, Trafalgar Law made the silent vow that he would put an end to the man's disrespect for good. He planned to make an example of the idiot if the king let him.
The brunet's eyes darkened for a moment. Then he donned his coat and picked up the pen again. A short message to the cook about their intentions and a request for Franky to bring his best tools. If his lover had to go into battle with that thing on his body, then he was going to have the best damned thing the maniac could create. To do that, the doctor knew he'd need access to the top of the line equipment, and no one either on the Grand Line or in any of the surrounding Blues was better at what he did than the cyborg. He finished the letter with a flourish and called their messenger bird.
"Come, we have preparations to make." He said shortly, belying his fury.
Eustass 'Captain' Kidd dug his fingers into his hair again; reaching for what Law had lovingly termed his 'civilian arm'. He'd—and he would never admit it to anyone out loud—he'd made it just for Law. It was the same size as his flesh-and-blood arm, and it contained no weapons or mechanisms outside of a rope. He'd even talked his beloved into developing a synthetic skin to cover it with, in a strange sort of thoughtfulness so that it gave the illusion of being the one he'd lost. He knew Law hated the cold metal, how he often felt bad for not being there to put the real one back on. Though the genius doctor had been on a different track then, working to become a Shichibukai, and hadn't had time or inclination to be involved with his fellow Supernova. So, to waylay the sometimes not-so-carefully-hidden guilt, Kidd had gone out of his way to replicate the missing limb. It was his masterpiece in an attempt to make the man he loved forget that perceived failing, and a gift, to celebrate their coming together after Luffy was made Pirate King.
Kidd forced the prosthetic into its socket, gritting his teeth as the nerves connected. Mother fuck he never got used to the way it hurt. He breathed out deeply and flexed the fingers a few times.
"I know. I'll have Killer an' Heat bring out the old arm. I'll need it for blueprints... an' I had some pretty good daggers and shit in there when I decommissioned it, I think." He leaned down and kissed his lover's cheek, both thumbs gently kneading at the back of the doctor's neck. "If there's anything left of the shit when we get there, I'm sure they'll let you cut 'im inta a million bits. Though that sniper guy gets first dibs, I'm sure."
"The peon should consider himself lucky if the Strawhats find him first." Law's unspoken threat hung in the air like a promise of things to come.
Lord, he hadn't been this angry in years. Just the idea of the man's audacity had him ready to dismember something. It surprised him a bit, and he took the kiss as a good excuse to try and refocus on other things. He turned to look up at the redhead.
"Do you suppose that we should contact Crocodile?" It translated more into, 'should I be gracious enough to let my father's lover have a shot at the fucker' but only those that knew him best, like Kidd, could tell.
Kidd paused. "...we probably should. But, um... I know you think it's a crazy superstition, but... can you let me...?"
The end of that sentence was 'consult my coat'. It sounded crazy, and stupid, even Kidd knew that. But Doflamingo had always sworn up and down that certain clothing items, like his feathered coat and Kidd's furred one, could detect certain waves in the air, in the sea, and alert their wearers. It helped alert them to danger, nearby enemies or allies, etc. Kidd had been sold when, well, his fur had been rubbed all the wrong way, literally. On a bit of a whim, he'd gone looking for Law, and found him surrounded by women pawing at him like he was a piece of meat with only his pride keeping the black-haired man from calling for help. Damn Amazons. Kidd had then put as much stock by his fur as Don ever did by his feathers.
He was hoping his coat wouldn't steer him wrong this time either.
Finally, after what had felt like forever that morning, Law cracked a sardonic smile. "Of course. I wouldn't want you to do anything without it. You always feel so off balance without its advice."
Though he never said as much, that was the reason he loved his psychopath as much as he did. Just a little touch of the place the surgeon thought of as home no matter where they were on the oceans. Of course, that touch of home also gave him fodder to use in teasing his lover the way he'd teased his fathers.
Kidd laid another kiss on him before going into the very back of their closet and pulling out the maroon fur-and-spike-coat, slipping into it and settling it on his shoulders with the familiar twitch. And when it slid into place, so did another thing—the old, familiar, bloodlust. He'd had eased out of it gradually over the years of relative peace. But that coat brought him back to the core of who, and what, he really was.
He was Eustass fucking "Captain" Kidd. Before the fall of the World Government he had the highest-bounty ever recorded. Only Fire-Fist Ace had been higher, and well… a Pirate's bounty didn't carry over once he was dead. He was a menace to every place that held any metal of any kind. An animal that walked on two legs, and caused so much collateral damage he put the D brothers to shame. He just stood a moment, eyes closed, stroking his fur. Relishing the sensation of donning his identity again, and deliberately ignoring the amusement dancing in his partner's eyes.
"...Trafalgar? Remember how I told you sometimes my coat gives me a distinct message rather than a vague feelin'?"
"Yes." The brunette waited patiently, gently stroking the brim of his hat, the corners of his mouth curled into his famous smirk.
"We have two messages. First, I quote, 'It is holy motherfucking shit time'. Haven't heard that since the Great War. An' th' other is...'it's taken care of'." The redhead grinned ferally at his lover. "Well, looks like Crocodile must either already know, or he's going to right fuckin' soon."
"Ah. In that case," Law donned his hat, and a light came to his eye that he, too, had been missing for a while, a sadistic shine that left no doubt as to why he was the Surgeon of Death. "We had best make haste, or your coat won't forgive us for missing out on the action."
Kidd swept him up in both arms, up to that strong chest that soon would have a belt of fighting daggers strung across it like a bandolier.
"Mmm. Yeah. An' mebbe we'll have a little of our other kinna action on the way? I'll make Heat light up the engine," the big man purred darkly.
Their combined crews and ship had been, because the fire-haired captain couldn't stand to be idle long, outfitted with a massive engine so they didn't have to rely on the winds and current to get where they wanted to go, and fast. But it still took a while to get started, which meant plenty of time for plundering along the way.
A flick of the slender man's wrist had his hand hidden between them and running along his lover's belt line. "Well, now, we can't miss out on that sort of action either, can we?"
"Fuck no," Kidd growled. "So let's get to it, Doktorr."
With that, of its own volition, the door slammed shut and locked itself. Later he'd send a message via the internal tubes to Heat with orders to fire up the engine and make for Raftel, but for now... the Doctor was in, and the Captain intended to cause a bit of 'collateral damage'.
Half a world away, the yellow-eyed falcon Zoro had released flew exactly where it had been directed, screeching its arrival. The Green-Food-With-Legs had been right to choose the toughest; its message had nearly been intercepted multiple times on the long journey. The falcon had fought off them all, and fed well.
A great golden perch was extended to it, and it caught on firmly with its claws. It had no fear of this one, though the Scaly-On-Legs was dangerous, because they were familiar. He'd been the falcon's previous owner, and though it could fly anywhere, for Green-Food-With-Legs, this was the only place it went.
"Must be important if they sent you," Scaly-On-Legs' voice rumbled like an earthquake as a dexterous hand untied the message on the falcon's leg and unrolled it, holding it down with hook and hand on the desk to read.
However, as the man this particular letter had been sent to read the message, one word at a time to take in the full implications, the ground truly began to tremble. By the time he got to the last word, the entire island was shaking violently, the ground roiling and spiking with infuriated waves.
Its mission completed for the moment the messenger perched on the windowsill above the desk. The falcon tucked its head under its wing and waited, nonplussed by the violence around it. Green-Food-With-Legs had warned of this. It had only to wait and Scaly-On-Legs would send it back with a reply.
From the modest, comfortable house came an explosion of sound and matter, bursting through the door and all but one of the windows, with such violence glass shattered and wood splintered right off its hinges. An unearthly howl echoed across the sea, making people five islands off shudder and hide. The demonic sound that was so frightening held at once fury, pain, grief, and an unholy bloodlust, a desire to maim, bleed, to rend limb from limb and scour in acid, to skin alive and rub with salt. That scream promised unending torture for which death would be a sweet, blessed relief.
Through it all, the falcon waited.
It took some time for the man to regain control of himself and stop rampaging about the small island that was his home. Very little was left standing now: all that remained was his house and a single oasis in the center of the land. When he had wrestled his emotions back into control, he returned to the desk beneath the only intact window, and the falcon. It stirred with a bored eye as he snatched up a long-feather quill and penned the fastest note he ever had. The kanji were sharp, made with knife-like slashes of the pen, and was remarkably short. A scattering of sand from his hand to dry the ink and it was tied to the falcon's leg for a return trip.
The bird was glad to hop back onto the golden perch and be carried outside. More battles and better eating was in his future, and after that, a long rest with the other messengers. He spread his wings the moment they got out of the door, and when the thick perch flung him into the air he set off on his journey home with a high screech of thanks for the lift.