Chapter Two: Rise of a Future Yonko

Chapter Summary: Shanks is dealing with the separation from his children as best he can (i.e. not well). His time on the seas provides a few distractions and helps him chase his dreams and his freedom.


Shanks thought that he was aware of all the downsides of being an omega.

Don't get him wrong, he loved being who he was. He wouldn't wish to be anything else, but that didn't mean that he could ignore reality. Beyond the social hierarchy that sought to put him at the bottom of the food chain, there were the periodic heats, the reactions of alphas, the lack of respect he received because of his anatomy and hormones, the constant danger and potential of being sold into slavery or taken by force or having his freedom stripped in some other atrocious way. He was used to all that and he took great glee in subverting every expectation set for him. But turning his back on all those traditions meant he was unprepared for some things that were simply a byproduct of his nature, namely how much it would hurt to be separated from his children this early after their birth.

Garp had warned him and Hongo had tried to prepare him for it too once he, Benn and Yasopp managed to coax Shanks off Bliss Isle's beach and back onto the Red Force. Still, he was unprepared for the intensity of it.

The first month after Garp left with Luffy and Luta, Shanks was completely bedridden. He was already weak and had not recovered from giving birth, but the pain was increased exponentially by an ache that went much deeper than just physical, though that was present as well. His head was constantly pounding, his limbs always felt like they were on fire and his stomach would not stop violently turning, to the point where he could barely keep any food down. A fever had set in and would not stop, only getting worse the farther away from Luffy and Luta that he sailed.

He could feel every inch of distance. The bond forged at their birth was like a cord pulling more and more taut with every foot put between them. It was tugging at Shanks' soul, wishing for nothing more than to pull them back together. It felt like it was going to rip his heart right out of his chest and send it flying across the sea towards his twins, wherever they were, who were likely feeling the effects of their separation just as much as Shanks was.

That terrified him more than anything else. The pups were so young and small, freshly born. If they were feeling even half of what Shanks was, would they be able to survive it? Would the pain kill them? Would they remember that their first month was filled with agony because their father had sent them away? Would they grow up to hate him? He sent them away to spare them future pain and all he did was create more pain for them. Were his parental instincts really this poor? Perhaps it was for the better they were sent away if the first decision he had made in their short lives had led to this.

He felt like a failure as a father and as a captain. He had spent a month in bed, writhing in pain due to his own poor decision-making and his crew had had to pick up the slack. Anything could've happened in that time. They could've been attacked, they could've hit another bad storm, they could've run into Marines and Shanks would've been useless. He never wanted to be the kind of captain that his crew had to fear or distrust but what had he shown them these last few months that would've instilled confidence in them? He promised them adventure and freedom if they joined him. It was not their job to clean up his messes.

Whenever he expressed as much, Benn would give him a withering glare.

"We're your pack, idiot. Your messes are our messes. If it was any one of us going through the same thing, you would never abandon us. You'd support us and be our staunchest ally. Let us do this for you."

His crew was there for him in ways Shanks frankly didn't think he deserved. They made sure to keep the Force sailing, but they would also visit him on his sickbed and read him books, tell him stories or sing songs to pass the time. They would wipe sweat from his brow, hold his hand as he thrashed in agony, whisper assurances if that was what he needed, share in his grief over the twins the few times he allowed himself to express it. They never turned away or seemed disgusted and they always came back even if Shanks sent them away.

Hongo in particular was ever at his bedside, cooling him down from his fever, making sure there was a bucket nearby to puke in, changing his sheets when his sweat and blood soaked them through. Shanks might've said a lot of embarrassing things in his delirium. Lots of apologies, tears, cursing Roger and Rouge and Garp and Dragon and himself. Hongo never looked at him with any judgement or pity, just silent support and doctorly concern. Shanks appreciated it more than he could say.

By the time the second month rolled around, the pain began to subside. The pulling stopped but the pain didn't go away completely, it was more like it slowly withdrew itself from his extremities and concentrated into a single place in his chest. It pressed against his heart and his lungs, making it difficult to breathe sometimes and causing his heart to spasm with agony periodically. The pain was its own kind of relief. As long as he was feeling it, then Luffy and Luta were out there somewhere, still alive and hopefully in as safe a place as they could be.

With the pain shifting into something a little more manageable, he decided that enough was enough. He was going to push through it and start fulfilling his role. He had to make up for these last few months.

It was time to be a captain again.


Adventure was not a hard thing to find on the seas if one looked hard enough for it, it simply depended on one's definition of adventure.

The Red Hair Pirates were not the kind of pirates who wanted to plunder and raid for the hell of it. They didn't threaten innocent civilians just because they could. That wasn't adventure, that was cruelty. So that was not what he and his crew did. Instead, they went where the wind blew, found new islands both known and unknown, met interesting people where they could and saw breathtaking sights. They did get into fights. They were not saints after all. The Marines still saw them as outlaws whether they were engaged in the wanton violence of some of their pirate counterparts or not. Shanks' blade became stained with the blood of those same lowly pirates as well as Marines who challenged him.

Beyond that, he ended up taking the lives of quite a few alphas who still did not respect him as a captain and he destroyed some pirate crews in the process. He never sought out those fights and he did not enjoy what those encounters brought out in him. The bloodthirst, spite and brutality he displayed were beasts that would not be leashed once they were let loose.

The Marines were one thing. They were out to get him because he was not falling in line with the World Government. He did not respect them and would not bow and kowtow to them. Worse still, he was still considered one of Roger's brats and that would forever make his life forfeit. He would happily engage with them if they came around spouting about their particular brand of justice and honor and he would not feel bad for any deaths he caused them.

However, there was something deeper and much more personal about some alpha he didn't know challenging his ability to be a man unto himself. He would see red and fight back with vicious prejudice against them. He would take pride and a twisted kind of joy at every increasingly powerful alpha that he defeated and brought low before his "unnatural" crew.

(And if those fights let him channel his feelings of loss and grief into something that he could hit, well… at least they were good for more than one thing.)

The World Government steadily updated his bounty with every fight and adventure. The Marines they sent after him became fiercer and fiercer. Shanks responded in kind. He had long since trained his haki and though he still didn't feel the need to use it often, he used it enough that his threat level increased. Not that the World Government wanted to publicize that he possessed Conqueror's Haki. That would fly in the face of all their rhetoric about omegas. They had been reluctant to raise his bounty as well. That would mean admitting that he was a greater threat than most other pirate omegas had ever been. There was little they could do to contain the stories about his exploits. His reputation grew as someone who did not needlessly seek out a fight but was more than capable of holding his own in one and ending it as the victor. He and his crew knew how to work together like a well-oiled machine. They had been together for years and they would be together for years more.

Their adventures provided a good distraction from the feeling in his chest that never completely went away. Even years later, he could feel the heaviness inside that spoke of a bond between him and his pups that had not been allowed to flourish the way it ought to have, that had withered on the vine before its time and now only existed as a shriveled fossil, a monument to what should've been, an echo of belonging, a shadow of love. It was easy to ignore it when there was blood on his blade, easy to push it aside when he was unraveling one of the world's many mysteries, easily buried when he was engaged in a game of chase with the Marines or one of the Grand Line's worst.

The downside was it always came roaring back into his consciousness as soon as those moments of distraction had gone, especially at night. His dreams were plagued with fantasies of his children and memories of his former pack and crew. The worst was when his mind put them all together. He would dream himself onto the Oro Jackson. The crew would be milling around, going about their daily duties like nothing was wrong and nothing had changed. Crocus would be lecturing Tom and Spencer again about their drinking habits. Rayleigh would be shouting orders and overseeing everyone's work. Roger would be at the helm laughing away as usual, the wide grin and electric gaze ever present as he taught his and Rouge's child how to steer a ship. Some nights, their pup was Ace and others they were Ann. Either way, they always had Roger's dark hair and his wide smile, a zest for life sparking in their eyes, but Rouge's freckles dusting their face and her fierce countenance.

Rouge would be on the deck, her red hibiscus securely nestled in her flowing locks as she chased after Luffy and Luta who would be giggling and calling her Jiji. Shanks could never see their faces in his dreams. It was like his mind couldn't even conjure up an image of what they would look like.

Buggy would be sat next to him. His face would not reflect anger, bitterness or resentment. He'd be sporting one of his rare smiles.

"Are you happy now, Shanks," he would say in his dreams.

He had said the same thing before he and Shanks parted ways, but in a significantly different tone than in the dreams. In his dream, Buggy's voice was light and almost blissful. He didn't have a care in the world. In real life, Buggy had been spiteful, incensed, betrayed by Shanks' decision.

"You want to be captain? I mean, why not, right? Omega or not, you're just like him. You're always putting your pride ahead of your family. You'll get your wish, but don't expect me to be there with you. You're on your own. Are you happy now, Shanks," Buggy had said then, his voice spitting with venom, anger and resentment for Shanks and for Roger.

He had wanted his freedom more than he wanted to save Buggy from his worse fear: being alone. Now they were both alone. Shanks had his new pack, and he loved them, but he didn't have his family. He had no clue if Buggy was alright, if he was even still alive. He knew his children were alive but he didn't know how life was treating them. His parents were dead and for all he knew, the entire crew of the Jackson (save Crocus and Rayleigh) were dead.

Waking up from those kinds of dreams was the worst because he ached for them to be real. He wanted that same bliss and peace that existed there to be a reality, but there was no way it could be.

Alcohol helped a lot with banishing those thoughts and dreams. He found alcohol helped with a lot of things. He could probably count on one hand the number of times he'd been truly sober in the last few years. Hongo would give him worried looks and occasional lectures but the crew was always up for a party as much as he was and they'd all drink as much as he did, if they could manage it.

Inwardly, he chastised himself because he was certain he was not bringing his pack down a road they should be on. They deserved more than him. They deserved a captain who was whole, who hadn't been broken as a child over and over again and become this patchwork man that couldn't hold himself together without the aid of booze and the distraction of adventure. None of them left him though, none of them questioned him either. They would follow him straight over the edge. He didn't know if he deserved that kind of loyalty, but he held on to it tightly with both hands.

They were his nakama and he didn't think he would survive if he lost another one, not after the first.


Adventure and alcohol were great distractors but fighting offered a different kind of distraction that, loathe as he was to admit it, Shanks was drawn to. He would never enjoy the killing of innocents, everyday people who had no say in the politics of the world and often found themselves crushed under the boots of Marines who would claim to protect them or pirates who wanted to take everything they owned, up to and including their lives.

Shanks would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy going after those kinds of pirates. It was gratifying to see them tremble at the sight of his jolly roger, to see them fight knowing full well that they would lose, to see them brought low like they had done to others whose only crime was crossing paths with these sorry excuses for pirates. Shanks believed everyone deserved a chance at true and honest freedom, no matter who or what they were. But he also believed that people who squandered their freedom by using it to take away the freedom of others deserved nothing less than a painful death.

Sometimes, he would go back to the places those same pirates had ransacked and return what treasure he saw fit to. There were people whose land had been plundered that would look at him with admiration, respect, gratitude even, like he was some kind of hero. It was the worst feeling in the world. They didn't know the true him. He was not like Dragon and his Revolutionaries. He wasn't trying to change the world, not really, at least not directly. He was mostly invested in his own personal freedom and fought according to his moral convictions, which often saw him in conflict with those who sought to hurt other people, but that didn't make him good. It certainly didn't make him a hero. A few halfway decent deeds didn't take away all the mistakes he'd made or all the wrong he had done.

That kind of fighting was different from the other kind that he craved. There was the kind of fight that he could get from Marines and other pirates, the kind that left him smiling almost manically, his blade stained and his cape heavy with blood, the kind that stained the wood of the Red Force and marked Shanks' soul even if he later told himself he was in the right. He did not crave or seek out that kind of fight but he was always ready for it.

The fights he looked forward to were ones that made his blood race through his veins, made his heart thump fast as the speed of light in his chest, made his body vibrate with anticipation and desire, made his head swim from the constant use of haki and the heightened sense of danger, the knowledge that any moment he could die but still trusting that that wouldn't happen. The kind of fight that made it much easier to shut out the rest of the world and only focus on himself and his opponent. He could only get that feeling from fighting one man.

He lunged back as Yoru swung dangerously close to his head, his haki helping to redirect the blade before it could split his skull open.

Mihawk sneered at him in response.

"Am I boring you? You're awfully distracted for a man who came to me and picked a fight."

"Oh no, you could never bore me, Hawkeyes. Trust me, you have my full and undivided attention," he replied, his voice playful and taunting.

The beta glared at him and sent a wave of his own haki that might've knocked out a lesser man.

Shanks laughed in reply.

"Sorry, did I touch a nerve," he apologized, not a lick of sincerity in his voice.

Anger and annoyance were two of the few emotions Mihawk ever let show and so Shanks had become an expert at eliciting them.

(And maybe he thought Mihawk looked even more beautiful when his yellow eyes were alight with feelings that he usually refused to acknowledge he had the capacity to feel. Anger made his eyes blaze with fire. Desire made them turn a darker shade of yellow beneath hooded lids. Genuine interest made his face soften even as his gaze intensified to the point where it was uncomfortable to be the subject of his attention. Shanks grew to love having that intense gaze on him and him alone. It was like the world shrank down and he was the only one that mattered. It was a heady feeling to be the focal point of a man who could be as singularly minded as him.)

Mihawk growled and came at him again. Shanks chuckled but met Yoru with Griffin. The warlord was so easy to wind up sometimes.

He couldn't hold back the grin that crossed his lips as they continued their spar. They were on a deserted island with just a few dilapidated huts left standing. That was just as well since neither was interested in holding back and their combined haki and powerful strikes would likely have caused quite a disturbance to any residents by now, not to mention significant damage. Shanks was glad he didn't have to worry about that as he continued watching Mihawk's body and anticipated where he would strike next and with how much power. It was like a dance for them by now. One of them would seek out the other, likely someplace where they could be alone, and they would fight, giving it their all with the knowledge that their partner was an equal match for them. Sometimes Shanks won, sometimes Mihawk did, most times they called it a draw.

Shanks briefly wondered how this fight would end. Mihawk seemed extra ticked off so maybe it would swing his way, but Shanks liked to tease him and beating him would be the perfect ammunition for it.

The two weaved through one another, deflecting strikes and pushing advantages where they could find them. Both of them were sweaty and had a few bleeding cuts littering their body, shallow and nothing of concern, but enough to serve as a souvenir of this encounter.

Shanks feinted right but struck left instead, a move that was blocked, but as he did so, his log pose slipped off his sweaty wrist and went careening to the sand. He instantly turned his attention to it, horrified at the prospect of breaking Rouge's parting gift to him. Before he could make a grab for it, a paler hand snatched it out of the air. Mihawk simultaneously parried with Yoru, sending Griffin flying and held the large blade to Shanks' neck.

He met the swordsman's irritated gaze, his chest heaving in exhaustion.

"If I had been anyone else, your head would be rolling on the shore right now," he snapped at him.

"Is that your way of expressing concern," Shanks shot back breathlessly, his eyes shifting to the log pose in Mihawk's grip, briefly assessing it to make sure it was unscathed.

Mihawk sent him a withering gaze but didn't deny Shanks' words.

"It's foolish to be so attached to something that you'd risk your life for it," he commented.

"Is it really? Haven't you ever been unreasonably attached to something, even when you knew you shouldn't be," Shanks replied, a meaningful look in his eyes.

Mihawk held his gaze for a moment before his yellow eyes flickered away. Shanks felt a swell of triumph at winning the staring match, even if he hadn't won the sparring match. He glanced down at Yoru, the tip of the blade still pressed against his throat and slightly biting into his skin.

Oh, he'd really ticked him off with that one. He briefly wondered if he should apologize before dismissing the thought. Shanks had always had more fun traipsing through the thorny passage that was Dracule Mihawk's heart with carefree abandon rather than tiptoeing his way through, regardless of how easily he might step on a spike.

He glanced back up at Mihawk with a raised brow.

"Well, you won. Aren't you going to enjoy the spoils of your victory?"

The older man's eyes darkened the barest amount as he slowly lowered his blade. Shanks grinned as he was pulled close to Mihawk, their bodies pressed against one another, so close that he was almost immediately overwhelmed by his scent. Betas' scents weren't as strong as alphas or omegas, most didn't bother trying to pick up the subtle notes in it beyond remarking that it had a calming effect, but Shanks had known Mihawk intimately for years now. He had time to appreciate the smell of mahogany, rose and spices that came naturally to the beta along with the smell of leather from his jacket, wine from his liquid diet and sweetgrass from his agricultural endeavors on that gloomy island of his. It was a scent Shanks could become addicted to, one he could pick out in a crowd no matter how many alphas there were.

He felt his body trembling with need as he was pressed up against his… not mate, they weren't bonded and likely never would be. Mihawk saw Shanks as a weakness and admitting to weakness was not his style. He was a man who had managed to rise to his status without a crew at his back. He'd done it purely off the merits of his own power. He earned his way to the title of the World's Strongest Swordsman. He was one of seven recognized Warlords and the only beta among them, all the others being alphas.

The World Government did not like acknowledging betas could reach such heights any more than they did omegas. Betas could be captains but they could never be so great as to outshine alphas. They weren't the type to garner a title tailor-made for them due to their prowess or that the World Government felt the need to make deals with, yet they had had to make an exception for Mihawk. He would not let it be any other way. He had paved the road to their respect in the blood of countless Marines and held no remorse for it.

He might not be an omega, but he started at a deficit too. An orphaned child with no substitute parents, no Pirate King to raise him, no pack to call his own. He had to make his own way in the world and Shanks admired him for that. He found his sheer force of will and self-assuredness to be attractive, even if he didn't understand why he was intent on remaining a lone wolf when there were so many benefits to having a pack.

Admiration and attraction were the most either of them had managed to admit to for each other. If there was anything else there between them, neither was likely to ever say. Mihawk would rather die first and Shanks, for all his teasing, did not want to concede that there was another person in his life that he cared for. Caring for others meant the reality that he would let them down eventually, that he wouldn't be enough for them. He was not enough for Roger, wasn't enough for Buggy and the rest of the crew, wasn't enough for his pups, wasn't enough for his pack. He had let them all down in some way or another and it was just as well that Mihawk didn't care about him beyond the physical. It reduced the chances of him being disappointed.

(And if a part of Shanks knew that this was not just sex between them, it was a part that was easily ignored.)

He stayed still. Usually, he would be shooting off at the mouth, trying to get a rise out of Mihawk, but now he simply waited for him to make the next move. He glanced over at his hand as he felt Mihawk's slender digits running down his fingers. He slipped the log pose back on his wrist, securing it so it wouldn't fall off again, before he pressed an uncharacteristically tender kiss to his palm. For some reason, that was the action that sent him over the edge and he couldn't wait anymore. He lurched forward and pulled him into a harsh kiss. It was more teeth than actual lips but he didn't care because it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Mihawk could be so brutal and ruthless just a minute ago, waving Yoru around like he had every intention of killing Shanks, and then turn around and be that soft.

Shanks wanted to possess him. He knew that he had a desire burning in him to keep this man and dare someone to try and take away what was his. But he never would push for something like that. Mihawk wouldn't want it. He valued his freedom too much to be kept by anyone or anything. He wouldn't even let himself belong to a pack, why would he let himself belong to a man? Shanks wasn't even sure how it would work, an omega and a beta claiming one another as mates. Surely it had happened before in the annals of history, but he was uncertain of the ins and outs of how that kind of relationship became official as opposed to an alpha and omega. Not that that would stop Shanks if he thought that Mihawk would agree to it, but he would never take his freedom from him, not when he knew the value of it.

He ignored the voice in his head that told him freedom also meant a person being free to choose who they wanted to belong to and who they wished to claim as their own. He let his pack claim him, he had vowed that his children would always have claim over him, Mihawk had just as much claim on Shanks even if the swordsman might not know it. Today was not the day he was going to unravel the tangled web the two of them had weaved through their relationship though.

"Inside, now," Shanks demanded against the other man's lips.

"Come now, I know you have better manners than that. Ask nicely."

Shanks let a short growl pass his lips before he grabbed the man's collar and forcibly dragged him towards the nearest hut, ignoring his amused smirk at Shanks' eagerness.

"You better get inside now, or I'll find someone else to sate my needs," he threatened.

"Oh, will you?"

Both of them knew it was an empty threat. They never made this relationship exclusive or even labeled it as a relationship. There was no formal commitment between them, but still, there was no one else for either of them. Shanks wasn't even tempted to find someone else, not at his drunkest when his decision-making went from poor to in the basement, not when nice locals or fellow pirates threw him the flirtiest gazes or the most lascivious invitations, not even during his heats despite the fact that only an alpha could truly satisfy his needs during that time. He didn't want anyone else. He was certain that was going to come back and bite him in the ass one day, but that day wasn't today.

"Just get inside."


Shanks had always had a strange relationship with the Whitebeard Pirates, mostly due to Roger's strange relationship with them.

Whitebeard was a contemporary of Roger's, a rival who he often battled with for days on end, just like Garp. However, strangely, just as much as they fought, they would also have amicable conversations with each other, gift exchanges and feasts while laughing and reminiscing about "the good old days".

Shanks had never truly known what to make of it. He didn't understand how they could try so vehemently to kill one another for three days straight and then turn around and start partying together, at least he didn't understand until he found himself on the receiving end of such treatment.

He looked around at the party being thrown. Lucky Roux was giving out food alongside Thatch to the two exhausted crews who had just spent two days and two nights fighting. Both crews came out the other side beaten, bloody and with a few casualties before they called it a draw. Shanks himself had not walked away without a souvenir of the battle. He reached up, brushing his fingers against the bandage on his left eye covering the three scars he had newly acquired. Hongo did what he could, but they would likely remain. They were going to have to update their jolly roger soon.

Shanks' gaze flickered over to Teach who stood next to Thatch, stirring a large pot of stew. The alpha seemed to sense his gaze and looked over for a moment. His eyes sparkled with amusement and arrogance before he looked back to his pot. Shanks narrowed his eyes at him. He stretched his haki out, brushing up against Teach, but he still could not feel any significant power coming from him. It was wrong, he knew it, he just couldn't prove it.

He looked up as a heavy hand came down on his shoulder. He didn't flinch and simply glanced over as Whitebeard and Marco took seats near him, Whitebeard handing him a bowl of sake which Shanks readily accepted.

"Your cook's not half bad, yoi," Marco complimented from his perch by his father's shoulder.

"If you like it so much, does that mean you're going to reconsider joining my crew," Shanks questioned, a carefree smile upon his lips.

Marco gave him a look at that.

"I'm a pirate, not a babysitter. That's what you've got Beckman for and I'm not looking to take his job."

Shanks gave him a mock-offended look and glanced at Benn for help, but his first mate simply took a sip of his drink, his eyes alight with mirth. Shanks pouted a little at the lack of defense as Whitebeard's laugh rung out on the beach.

"You did well, brat. I wasn't expecting you to be so fierce but clearly you have enough of Roger in you," he said, his comment putting somewhat of a damper on the mood.

Marco rolled his eyes at his father's blunt words even as Shanks bit back a smirk. Whitebeard never was one for tact, it was probably why he and Roger got along so well until the times they didn't.

Shanks took a sip of his sake, noting that it was the expensive kind, before answering.

"Well, I had a reason to fight, didn't I? It's not every day a division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates steals one of my crew members away," he replied just as bluntly.

Whitebeard's lips twitched at that.

"An unfortunate misunderstanding, yoi. It might be a little hard for you to appreciate, but we've got 700 members of our family. Try as we might, not all of them are as… disciplined as others, yoi," Marco said, diplomatically stepping in before his father could say whatever was on his mind.

"I suppose. The apology is somewhat undercut by the fact that you did fight for two straight days for that same commander before cooler heads prevailed."

"You've been causing a lot of noise lately, brat. I thought you were making a power play at us. As a father, it's my duty to avenge my son's death. I didn't know before we went into this that he had done what he did. You know how I feel about stealing omegas against their will much less selling them into slavery."

Shanks reluctantly nodded. He vividly remembered one of the times Roger and Whitebeard had teamed up back in the day had been to take down a slavery ring perpetuated by one of Whitebeard's former crewmates from the Rocks Pirates. Both alphas had had no qualms about killing any and every person involved in the ring. He also knew that he had recently claimed Fishman Island and outlawed slavery there, making a friend among the maligned race. He had been certain that Whitebeard wasn't personally involved when Benn told him that Limejuice had been taken by a ship bearing Whitebeard's flag, but Shanks could not just allow one of his pack members to be stolen. Limejuice was an unbonded omega and Shanks already knew what could happen to him as a result. It was a huge step for him to take on an Emperor of the Sea, but he had known Whitebeard his whole life, knew what he was capable of and knew what kind of force he could bring to the table. Shanks had allies too and he had a reason to fight, as did his whole crew.

It was a long, bloody battle, but they got Limejuice back and they killed the man who attempted to steal him. Whitebeard wasn't pleased and came to avenge his son, but eventually with enough pressure and Shanks' haki to back him up, the man's shipmates broke down and admitted that they had been trafficking omegas for months under the division commander's orders. That changed things and eventually the crews managed to call a ceasefire. Not before Shanks took a significant blow from Teach.

He found his gaze going back to the man, who was now pouring stew into bowls for the pirates who were coming up to the table for food. He seemed innocent enough but he was a threat, Shanks knew it. He knew what it was to conceal a part of yourself from the rest of the world, to bury it under an acceptable façade. It's what he did all the time so it wasn't hard to recognize it in others and Teach was a man that was much more than he seemed to be on the surface.

"You be careful with him," he found himself saying, not taking his eyes off the man.

"There's something else going on with him. There's more beneath the surface."

He turned to the alpha and beta and just as he suspected, they didn't seem to be taking his words to heart, in fact, Whitebeard let out a boisterous laugh before replying.

"Come now, brat. You fought a good fight against all of us, there's no need to be a sore loser just because one of my sons managed to land a few scars."

"He did but I didn't get these scars from a mistake I made or weakness I possess, it just proves Teach is stronger than you think he is. He's hiding that strength for a reason. Despite any animosity that arises between us both in the past and in the future, I respect you, old man. Teach is biding his time onboard your ship to build up his power until he's ready to make a move. I don't know what it is but watch your back nonetheless."

Whitebeard and Marco shared a look for a moment that Shanks couldn't read before the large man spoke.

"Your concerns are noted, pup."

Shanks rolled his eyes at the old childhood nickname. He'd rather be called a brat than a pup any day, not that he enjoyed either one, but it seemed he couldn't escape being seen as a kid by men as old as Garp, Rayleigh and Whitebeard no matter what he did.

Part of him found it comforting that not all of the old guard had died alongside his captain, but he was 27 years old now, he didn't want to always be living in the shadow of the teenager he had been when Roger died.

"You know it won't matter, don't you, yoi?"

Shanks raised an eyebrow at Marco in reply.

"Whether all this was a power play or not, the fact that you did challenge a yonko and lived to tell the tale… it'll mean something to the World Government. It'll go beyond the bounds of worrying about you being an omega or Roger's kid, you'll be a threat unto yourself to them. They'll treat you differently, it means they'll come for you harder and faster than ever."

Shanks noted that Marco's words held as much warning in them as Shanks' words about Teach did. He'd known Marco since they were kids, both of them growing up with larger-than-life fathers who were either going to duel with one another so harshly that they split the skies open or they were going to drink an entire island dry. It was hard to say and there was a certain commiseration that they shared from having to deal with the two characters on their own, let alone when they were together.

"Let them. I'll be waiting," Shanks replied, a savage grin on his lips.

His reply apparently tickled the Emperor, who gave him a slap on the back that damn near dislocated his shoulder.

"I'm going to enjoy our encounters in the future, brat, I can tell. Rayleigh's going to have a hoot when he reads about this. I expect there'll be a phone call or two in my future."

Shanks looked at him in surprise.

"You two keep in contact?"

"It's nice to catch up with someone who's not a pup every so often."

Shanks rolled his eyes again.

"I keep tabs on all of Roger's old crew where I can, especially the brats. Roger wanted that, he asked me to that last day we met. He was worried about what would happen to you after he died."

Shanks' face shuttered at that for a moment before he covered up the dip in his mood with an easy smile and a sip of his sake.

"I bet he'd get a kick out of me and you fighting almost as long as you two would, eh?"

Whitebeard gave him a knowing look that was tinged with sympathy, like it was obvious to him that Shanks was putting on a mask and he likened it to a child trying to hold back tears after skinning their knee.

"He was a complicated man. He didn't seem like it, but he was. Don't expect to understand why he did everything that he did, but he loved you and Buggy. I know it, I could see it both as a father and as his friend."

Then why did he choose to leave us, he thought but didn't say.

You left your children too, an insidious voice inside his head accused.

I let them go, I didn't leave them.

You're here and they're who knows where, it's no different than if you had abandoned them in a treasure chest, just like your birth parents did to you.

They're better off.

How could you know?

It's for their own good. I left them— no, I sent them away to protect them.

And Roger didn't do the same?

Roger left us defenseless and alone.

You didn't have to be alone. You could be with Buggy right now, you chose to push him away and you made him leave. He could be dead and it would be your fault.

Whitebeard didn't speak as Shanks struggled with his inner turmoil, trying to ignore the voice by drinking down a large gulp of sake.

It always reared its ugly head when he was surrounded by too many things that reminded him of his old life. Being with Whitebeard now was like stepping back in time. It wasn't the Roger Pirates enjoying this ceasefire with the Emperor's men, but it had the same feeling: tense cordiality tinged with begrudging respect and a camaraderie that came from a shared life at sea. The faces had changed but it was all the same. It was missing a few key elements though.

Roger's laugh wasn't there to mix in with Whitebeard's at some shared story of their past. Rayleigh wasn't there to give a reluctant chuckle as he went on to retell the stories from his perspective, being sure to highlight every dumb decision Roger made. Rouge wasn't there, shaking her head at the scene while advising Shanks and Buggy that they had better be smarter men than all the boneheaded alphas they knew. Buggy wasn't there for him to pick a needless argument with and then run around to create mischief among the pirate crews. That life was long gone but Shanks couldn't help but to miss it.

"If you're keeping tabs on us, then you know where Buggy is, you know if he's alive," he stated rather than pursue any further conversation about Roger. That walk down memory lane was defeating the purpose of him drinking his bowl of sake in the first place.

Whitebeard studied him for a moment but dropped the subject of Roger in favor of Buggy.

"He left the Grand Line. The Marines were on his tail hard during the blood hunt, kid doesn't have much hope of hiding himself from them, not with his looks. He wasn't always alone. He had a crew for a while and even met up with Donquino and Mugren. But three former members of the Roger Pirates were going to attract attention no matter what. They managed to get Buggy away safely but the rest of the crew didn't make it. He went to the South Blue at one point, visited Baterilla chasing rumors about Rouge. Then he settled in the East. Doesn't seem like he has any intention of leaving. The Marines don't seem too interested in going after him, not the way they've been gunning for you at least. He's decided to live in the weakest of the Blues after all, they must not be too concerned about him."

Shanks took a sip of sake as he allowed himself to feel a brief stab of guilt that two members of his former pack had died and they had died protecting his brother.

I should've been there.

"Thank you for letting me know," he said simply in reply before turning back to his sake.

By the end of the night, he was passed out and sure to wake up with one of the worst hangovers he'd ever had, but the memories stopped plaguing him.


Shanks didn't immediately go running to the East Blue to find Buggy.

He had just faced off against an Emperor of the Sea and lived to tell the tale. He had to stick around and capitalize on that. Marco was right. The World Government put out a new bounty on him, over a billion berries. The Marines he came up against were much more skilled fighters than before but Shanks' crew was a pack more than anything else and they were able to fend off the admirals. Initially, they came up against stiff resistance from other pirate crews who wished to gain notoriety by defeating the young omega captain that had gone toe to toe with Whitebeard. Those challenges slowed down after all those crews were easily decimated. He couldn't leave until he was sure he would be able to go and return with his reputation still intact.

Before he went, he sought out Mihawk for one last spar. He didn't know how long he would be gone and he didn't want the other man thinking he was going to go soft during his time away. He found him on Kuraigana, shirtless, hatless and tending to his garden. Shanks didn't bother with his sword, instead he jumped out of the trees and tackled the older man. Or he would've if Mihawk didn't catch him midair and flip him, throwing him to the ground. Shanks quickly swept the other man's feet and followed it with a swift quick to the abdomen to send him tumbling down as well.

They tussled and wrestled on the ground for a while but it wasn't long before grappling hands turned to desperately grasping fingers, taunts and teases became clashing lips, a battle for dominance became an intoxicating rush to completion.

Shanks laid back on Mihawk's sinfully comfortable bed, breaths coming heavy from hours of lovemaking (a term he would only ever use in his head but he could never bring himself to describe these moments with the Warlord as just sex, that seemed too detached of a term).

"You destroyed my tomatoes," Mihawk said accusatorily.

"If I remember correctly, you were very much involved in the activities that crushed your poor tomatoes, whether I was on top of you or not."

"You owe me."

"I would say I've paid you back in full and with interest, unless you want to go another round."

Mihawk rolled his eyes in response but moved so he was on top of Shanks instead of beside him. He smiled as the brunette pressed a slow, deep kiss to his lips but made no move to initiate anything further. The swordsman pulled back after a moment and studied Shanks' face, his eyes flickered over it like it was a book to be read. His gaze lingered on his healing scars and Shanks could see a flash of barely concealed rage there. Mihawk had been livid once he'd seen the scars and wanted to go seek out Teach immediately. Shanks had asked him why he cared so much and that had made the beta shut down and kick him off the island that they'd met up on.

"What's the matter," Mihawk asked after a moment.

Shanks rose a brow at that.

"Why do you think something is wrong?"

"Because I've known you since we were teenagers and I'm reasonably good at reading your moods, even the ones that you try to hide."

Shanks should probably be more concerned about that than he actually was, but it was nice to have someone in his life that could effortlessly see past the façade without Shanks having to go through the trouble of peeling back the layers on his own and laying himself bare.

"Besides, we saw each other a month ago. Our meetups don't usually happen so close together."

"Maybe I just wanted to see you."

"Highly doubtful."

"Don't sell yourself so short. For all you know, I might've missed you."

Mihawk gave him a dull look and Shanks couldn't help the peels of laughter that left him in response to the condescending gaze.

"One of these days, I'm going to figure out how to replicate one of those expressions of yours. I bet I could give you a run for your money once I take up your penchant for brooding."

"I do not brood."

"Oh, you're the best one in the game, love."

Mihawk rolled his eyes in response.

"And here's me thinking we might have a halfway serious conversation."

"Have you met me?"

"Unfortunately."

Shanks smiled at the annoyance in his voice before he bit his lip, somewhat anxious, not that he knew why.

"I'm going away for a little bit soon," he announced.

Mihawk quirked a brow at that.

"Oh?"

"I don't know how long I'll be gone or when I'll come back. I don't want it to be more than a few months, but I'm not entirely sure where I'm looking, so it might be a while."

Mihawk appeared to be thinking for a moment before he nodded.

"Okay."

"You aren't going to ask me why or where?"

"You have your reasons, I'm sure. They must make sense to you."

Shanks glanced over to the bedside table where his hat and log pose were resting safely.

"My brother is in the East Blue. I thought he might've been dead after… everything, but Whitebeard says he's alive."

"And you believe Whitebeard?"

"He has no reason to lie about that. Buggy's there, somewhere, alive. Whether he'll want to see me is another story entirely. We didn't leave on good terms."

Mihawk was silent long enough that Shanks turned back to look at him, curious about what he was thinking. His face was mostly blank but there was a contemplative spark in his eye that Shanks was sure no one else would be able to pick up on.

"Were those terms bad enough that he'd try to hurt you?"

Shanks felt a smile wishing to break through at the obvious concern that the other man was trying to mask but he didn't bother teasing Mihawk about it like he usually would.

"Maybe, who knows? I'll have deserved it. I left him alone. I knew full well that was what he feared the most in this world, people turning their backs on him, leaving him behind, and that's exactly what I did because my ambition was more important to me at the time. He probably hates me. Would you want to see me if you were him?"

"Well, knowing you as I do and your proclivity for self-deprecation, I'm certain it's not as one-sided as you're making it seem. That being said, if you hurt him as much as you think, then seeing him again might provide some closure to him and to you. Or it will make things worse. That's up to you to figure out, I can't help you with that. There's a reason I'm quite happy to stay away from such things as that."

"Things like what?"

"Family, drama, emotions, take your pick."

Shanks grinned mischievously at him.

"Oh darling, if you think you've managed to cut yourself off from emotion, have I got some news for you."

Mihawk gave him a threatening look in response.

"Don't," he warned simply.

Shanks answered with an impish look. He wouldn't push, not tonight, but he did so love to see Mihawk get all worked up over the fact that he maybe, kind of, sort of, might have feelings for Shanks that wasn't apathy. The poor man thought himself above "base, human emotion". Shanks enjoyed poking and prodding at him until he was forced to express said emotions that he wanted to believe were beneath him. He was always careful not to push too far. He didn't want to accidentally say something he himself couldn't take back nor to hear something from Mihawk that couldn't be taken back either. They knew who they were, they knew what this thing between them meant and they also knew the danger in vocalizing what they were barely able to acknowledge. What good would it do to acknowledge it anyway? They were pirates whose greatest love in life was freedom above all else (well, most everything else, there were at least two people in this world Shanks wouldn't hesitate to trade his freedom for).

"Anyway, I just wanted to tell you where I'd be in case you came looking for me."

"Hmm."

"Hey, don't miss me too much when I'm gone, Hawky. Who knows? Maybe you'll find another halfway decent sparring partner in my absence."

"I doubt it. There's no one here like you."

Shanks felt a slow smile cross his lips.

"That might've been the sweetest thing you've ever said to me."

"I didn't mean it as a compliment," Mihawk retorted, though the tone of his voice betrayed that statement.

"Too late. I'm taking it as one. I may be the first person on this planet to ever get a genuine compliment from Dracule Mihawk. I feel so special."

The man in question rolled his eyes.

"When exactly are you leaving? I'll help you pack."

Shanks chuckled at his annoyance as he wrapped his legs around the other man's waist, pulling him flush against his body.

"I'm not leaving tonight. I still have plans for me and you."

"Oh really? Should I be concerned? Your plans have a habit of being rather pear-shaped," Mihawk said doubtfully, but he intertwined his fingers with Shanks' and pressed a light kiss to his neck despite his dubious words.

Ever the contrarian.

"You'll just have to find out, won't you?"


The seas were vast but Shanks was determined to get to the East Blue and find Buggy. His pack didn't question it. Some of the younger members of the crew didn't even know that Shanks was previously a member of the Roger Pirates let alone that he had lost his family the way he had. He didn't like talking about the past, didn't like thinking about it. Benn knew, as did Yasopp, Hongo and Limejuice but none of the others. Still, they didn't question their captain's sudden determination to go east just like they didn't question when he went off on his own to seek out a certain Warlord or when he had decided to go into battle with an Emperor or when he drank himself into a stupor for days on end. They'd tell him he was an idiot but they left it at that. His pack was loyal, sometimes Shanks couldn't help but wonder if it was to a fault.

The East Blue was notoriously the weakest of the Blues but that didn't mean this sea wasn't still large in its own right or that there weren't some sights that could interest a man who had seen what the Grand Line had to offer.

Clockwork Island in particular was an interesting sight, a city built high in the sky supported by a single tall tower. It was probably highly impractical and the sea might just claim it one day, but for now it was a sight to behold.

They sailed past Tequila Wolf. The unfinished bridge hadn't added as many feet to it as Shanks would've expected since he last saw it aboard the Jackson but he was certain that it had claimed more bodies than it had gained feet by now. He sneered in disgust at the silhouette of the slaves forced to labor upon the bridge. He felt sorry for their plight but knew there was nothing he could do about it. If he attacked, it would make no large impact. The Nobles would just send a new batch of slaves to continue the impossible task.

They had a bit of trouble when they passed by Ocean's Navel. The island was essentially a large pit after all and the suction had nearly pulled the Force into it and crushed it against the rocks as it had clearly done to several other passing ships. Thankfully, Shanks and his crew had had to contend with the unpredictability of the Grand Line, which featured rogue waves, volatile weather and sea beasts large enough to create tsunamis just by breaching the surface so it wasn't too difficult to steer out of danger.

There were a few options of where Buggy could be, considering that Whitebeard told him Buggy had fully embraced his moniker as Buggy the Clown and was as much of a ringleader for a circus as he was a pirate. Shanks had seen the bounty poster to prove it. Buggy sported a modest 10 million berri bounty. Shanks knew it could be much higher if Buggy wanted it to be, but clearly he preferred to lay low than attract too much attention to himself. It made Shanks briefly hesitant to approach him as he did not want to bring trouble to his doorstep, not after years of no contact on the back end of a nasty argument, but news from the Grand Line was slow to trickle to the four Blues. He doubted his name was widely known here and he had evidence of as much because he had got into a skirmish with two pirate crews not long into the journey to find Buggy. It was embarrassingly easy to defeat the crews, Shanks hadn't even bothered with destroying their boats or killing them all like he might've in the Grand Line. East Blue pirates were little more than flies to be swatted away. It was cute how fearsome they believed themselves to be. They had no idea just how big the world was and how kind the sea was being to them by even allowing them to occupy the same waters as the likes of pirates from the Grand Line.

Looking at all the places in the East Blue Buggy could be, Shanks decided to start with Mirror Ball Island. It seemed like the kind of place his brother would find himself in, a place where he could be lost but also where his show would probably be appreciated.

Mirror Ball Island was a bright, well-developed city with lights shining everywhere, making the island clearly visible even at night. The city lights reflected off the island's namesake mirror ball in different colors that bounced off the surrounding waters back onto the mirror, amplifying the lights into near blinding rays. They docked at night and walked into the city which was lively with several nightclubs and bars. Music spilled out past open doors and people stumbled past in various states of drunkenness and undress. He could see that his crew were interested in checking out the night life, so he nodded them off with a warning not to cause too much trouble before he went in search of Buggy. It didn't take too much asking around before he was pointed to where he would find him.

He came upon a tent that had small round disco balls on each pillar reflecting rainbow light onto the street and a flashing neon sign on top of the entrance that read "Buggy's Flashy Extravaganza". Shanks remembered Buggy used to use the word "flashy" religiously when they were kids, though that tapered off the older they got. Walking into the tent, it was much bigger than it appeared to be from the outside and the stands were filled with people. Shanks smiled to see that Buggy's show was so well attended. A man with striped black and green hair by the door stopped him briefly to ask for a ticket but took a closer look at him, or more specifically at his hat, and just nodded him forward. Maybe news about him did travel to the East Blue or Buggy might've mentioned him. He found himself hoping it was the latter but then again, would Buggy have anything nice to say about him?

He took the closest empty seat and sat back to watch the show. It was pretty spectacular, well-choreographed and complete with fire breathers, sword-swallowers, dancing lions, acrobatics and stunts and of course Buggy showing off his devil fruit. That really got the crowd going. Shanks found himself smiling throughout it all and clapping along with them.

He didn't get up when the show was over, instead waiting for the other guests to filter out. The man who had let him into the tent noticed him eventually and gave him a considering look before speaking.

"You're Red-Haired Shanks. I recognize you from your updated bounty poster in the paper."

"I didn't think news from the Grand Line would've reached here."

"It doesn't normally but when there's someone, an omega especially, making a play to be the next Emperor, that's worthy of passing along to the Blues."

Shanks restrained an eye roll. He hadn't gone after Whitebeard to try and seize power, he had done it for his friend because he refused to let someone hurt them. However, the added side effect of allowing his star to rise higher wasn't necessarily a bad thing. He wondered what Buggy thought of all this but maybe he'd get a chance to get that answer.

"What do you want with the boss," the beta asked suspiciously.

"I just want to talk to him."

"Talk," the man pressed, not convinced.

"Yes, that's all."

"It's not too often an infamous pirate from the Grand Line decides to visit the East Blue and of all the things you could be doing, you came to Mirror Ball Island just to talk to Captain Buggy?"

"It might sound strange to someone who's unaware of our… history."

"Oh, I'm very aware, but none of his so-called family have shown up before, certainly not when he needed them, needed you, so I'm wondering why now."

Shanks felt a stab of guilt, knowing that the words rung true, but determined to get past this so he could see his brother.

"You're right. I should've been there for him. He clearly has crew members that care about him."

"We're more than just crew, we're pack. That means something to us."

"Look, I learned for certain that he was alive not too long ago. I just want to see how he's doing. You don't think I deserve to see him and perhaps you're not entirely wrong, but it should be up to him whether he wants to talk to me or not. He should have the freedom to refuse or agree."

The beta glared at him for a moment before he turned around, unicycle in hand, and strutted backstage.

"Wait here," he called behind him.

Shanks did as he was told and remained in his seat.

Minutes passed alone before he caught the familiar scent of Buggy nearby. He didn't know how much he had missed that subtle calming scent before it was near him again. Buggy didn't immediately show himself, perhaps he was still debating whether he wanted to talk to him. Shanks initially told himself to be patient and let Buggy make his choice unimpeded but after two minutes of waiting, he couldn't take it anymore and had to speak up.

"Buggy, I know you're there."

He felt him shift subtly with his observation haki but he still didn't appear.

"Can you please come out? You wouldn't be here if a part of you didn't want to see me, right?"

"Maybe I just wanted to see for myself if you really had the gall to show up."

Buggy's voice sounded different, deeper, but it still held all the resentment that Shanks remembered. He had noted differences while he was performing. Buggy was taller, his shoulders were broader, he wore make up now with crossbones making an x down his face. His demeanor had changed a lot. On the Oro Jackson he was quieter than Shanks, who would gladly proclaim that he was going to be a great omega pirate just like Rouge. Buggy on the other hand didn't like to draw attention to himself, didn't let on what he wanted, what his dreams were or his plans for the future. His brother confided mostly in their mother and at times in Shanks as well, but he didn't think he ever went to Roger about such things let alone the rest of the crew. There was a disconnect there that Shanks didn't totally understand. Buggy saw the crew as his pack but there were times when Shanks wasn't certain that he saw them as family and he had an odd feeling that, beyond their parents and eldest uncles, the feeling was mutual.

Watching Buggy on the stage, he didn't see that quiet little boy. He was flamboyant now, loud, willing to draw attention to himself. He was the ringleader of the show and there was no questioning why. He was a showman now, the flashiest one on the stage.

"I know it's been a while but—"

"A while? It's been years, years of being on the run, years of having the Marines breathing down my neck. I lost the first crew I ever had to that damn blood hunt. Men put down their lives to save mine and my own family, my supposed pack, couldn't be bothered to remember I existed. Now you're here to talk? Don't make me laugh. Go back to the Grand Line. I'm sure they're missing their future yonko."

He could feel that Buggy was walking away and even though he said he'd let it be his choice, he couldn't let it go that easily.

He jumped up out of his seat and walked down to the stage, calling after him.

"Buggy, I'm sorry! Please, will you just talk to me?"

"You left me alone before, brother. Now it's your turn to feel what it's like."

Shanks paused then, a wave of anger going through him.

"You think I don't know what it's like to be alone? If you remember correctly, I asked you to join my crew after you asked me to join yours and you said no. It wasn't a one-way street. I wanted us to be together too. I didn't want to leave you alone. You were the one that walked away just like you're doing now!"

A part of him regretted the words but before he could try to smooth them over or take them back, a detached fist came flying from behind the stage straight for his face. Shanks' eyes widened before he ducked, dodging the punch. Before he could recover the fist came flying at the back of his head, knocking off his hat. Then it hit his knee, sending him on all fours to the ground. He looked up in disbelief at Buggy as he came storming from behind the stage, face red with anger and his remaining fist balled up in rage.

"Are you seriously putting this on me?"

"Why the hell not? You're the one who asked me to work under you knowing full-well what my dreams were, what I wanted. The truth is you didn't believe in me and your pride wouldn't let you be a crewmate of mine because you didn't want an omega as your captain!"

Buggy rolled his eyes in response.

"You're still carrying that chip on your shoulder? You have the guts to go up against Whitebeard but you still can't be satisfied with your lot in life?"

"Can you? I can't help but notice all your crewmates are betas, not an alpha in sight. You've never been satisfied with your lot either. You didn't want to be some alpha's lackey. I thought that meant something to both of us, common ground we could've started our crew on. We were in nearly the same position: seen as inferior, hunted down because of our associations and abandoned by our family. The only difference is that you let the chip on your shoulder get so big and heavy that you let it drive us apart!"

"You? Abandoned? Do you know the shit I had to go through for you?"

"For me?"

"You were the brave one, you were the strong one, you were just like him and I was just the opposite and the whole crew knew it. They adored you. And me? Oh, they didn't miss an opportunity to tell me what a coward I was. I knew they would never leave you alone, that's why I didn't join your crew. If I had, maybe they wouldn't have had your back."

Shanks gaped at him in reply, picking up his hat as he got back to his feet and tried to process the source of Buggy's anger.

"What are you talking about?"

"You were their damned treasure chest kid, their golden child. You had the benefit of being with them since you were a baby. Do you think any of them cared to know what happened to me after Roger's execution? They knew I was being hunted too, they knew I was alone. Mugren and Donquino said as much when I ran into them later. I wasn't even a rookie yet, I was an apprentice, but that still wasn't enough for them to check in and make sure I was okay. But I knew that they would support you even if they didn't give a shit about me, they wouldn't want you to be alone. If I was with you on your crew, then they would think that you had enough support so I left so that they would choose you. Not that that was ever a competition that I would win. So don't come to me complaining about being alone or me leaving when I was looking out for you, more than you ever have done for me!"

Shanks scoffed in disbelief.

"Is that what you think happened? They left me alone too! I didn't have any of them. Crocus, Tom, Rayleigh, Spencer, all of them left."

Buggy stared at him, his anger deflating just a bit.

"What do you mean they left?"

"We were all scattered to the wind. I had Mom for a while but then we had to separate because I was drawing attention to her. I had to leave the Grand Line altogether to survive. I couldn't return until I had a crew that would have my back. Even then, you think I don't have bodies that I had to bury? Crewmates, packmates, friends, who laid down their lives for mine? Who jumped in front of a bullet or a blade meant for me because some Marine still saw me as "Roger's pup"? You think I had it so much better than you? I needed my family, my pack and they left me. I was alone too!"

Something flashed in Buggy's eyes then, regret maybe, before he became angry again.

"Why the fuck would they do that?! They cared about you! You could've been taken, enslaved, forced to mate with someone, why would they leave you alone!?"

Shanks wasn't sure if this anger was on his behalf or if Buggy was still rejecting reality in favor of his belief that Shanks was the favorite.

"Maybe they didn't care about either of us."

Buggy gave him a withering look in response.

"Of course they cared about you. Me on the other hand? The looks they gave me, the stares, the whispers. You know, I heard them saying that they were sure that I would be an omega and you would be an alpha, that our personalities were showing what our second gender would be. Then we manifested and all that meant was that they were ready to throw away their biases for you. You were the golden son, Roger's heir in all but name. Don't tell me they didn't care about you."

"They certainly have a way of showing it. If they cared, they would've stayed and maybe I wouldn't have had to give up—"

Shanks stopped himself there before those words could slip out, somewhat shocked about it. He didn't know that he felt that way, that he blamed his old pack in any way for the events that led to him having to give up Luffy and Luta. Shanks consciously didn't think there was anything they could've done that would've changed that outcome, but the irrational part of him, the part that was still an abandoned, scared, grieving teenager let himself be angry that his pack had not been there to help him when he needed it.

He shook his head, dispelling thoughts of his twins. He could only deal with one loss at a time, if that.

"Anyway, they cared about you. They teased me too, called me names, none of them were exactly the gentle caretaker types but they always defended you just as well as they did me. Roger couldn't tell you how much he supported your dreams because you never told him what they were. You didn't trust them and part of that had nothing to do with them or me," Shanks replied, giving Buggy a pointed look. His past as an orphan before he joined the crew was a touchy subject and Shanks didn't often bring it up but Buggy had come to them with wounds that never fully healed, no matter how long he resided on the Jackson.

"Besides, you were Rouge's favorite and don't pretend otherwise, mama's boy."

Buggy's eyes flickered, a subtle blush coating his cheeks.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, right."

"Well, you were Roger's so we're even," Buggy replied, glancing up at the straw hat on top of Shanks' head before his gaze lingered on Rouge's log pose and then back to Shanks' face.

Shanks himself took note of the hibiscus in Buggy's shirt pocket and the purple silk cloth around his neck that he used to wear around his waist, a present from Roger when they were kids.

"She wondered every day where you were after the execution, you know? She said she was going to look for you when I was leaving even though it would endanger her and the baby. She needed to know that you were somewhere safe."

"I saw her, briefly, in Baterilla."

"Whitebeard mentioned you went there looking for her."

"Whitebeard?"

"Apparently, Roger asked him to keep an eye out on us."

Buggy raised a dubious eyebrow at that. Shanks shrugged in reply.

"Like I said, he cared about both of us. Just… just not enough to stay apparently."

Buggy gave him a careful look at that.

"He was dying, how much longer did you think he was going to be around?"

"As long as it took! He was our father, he could've tried, he could've fought! I would for my children."

Shanks bit his lip, somewhat regretting that slip up but perhaps Buggy wouldn't look into the children comment. Shanks didn't think he could trust him with that information, not just yet.

Buggy gave him a silent look for a moment before he let out a chuckle. Shanks looked at him in confusion over it.

"It's nice to see I'm not the only irrational, fucked-up one in the family."

Shanks let out a humorless chuckle as well.

"Did we ever have a chance being raised by bloody Gol D. Roger?"

"No, probably not. Mom tried but not even she can be a miracle worker."

They shared another chuckle for a moment before Shanks cautiously approached his brother.

"Are you going to punch me again?"

"I should. It might make me feel better. Shit, I really didn't think they would leave you. If I did, I wouldn't have left."

Shanks shrugged in reply.

"I guess it didn't turn out so bad in the end. I have my crew, you have yours. They're loyal to you, that's good, you deserve it."

Buggy rolled his eyes in reply.

"Don't go thinking just because you give out a few compliments that I'm not still angry at you."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Shanks replied, a sloppy smile upon his lips, the kind that he knew irritated Buggy to no end.

As predicted, the other man gave his younger brother a look of annoyance before stomping away.

"Come on, I have booze in the back. If we're going to talk, I'm going to need a drink."

"Trust me, you aren't the only one."


Shanks ended up staying on Mirror Ball Island for the duration of Buggy's residency there. He performed shows every other day for a month, which allowed Shanks the chance to talk to his brother more than he had in years. Buggy was still angry at him but they were also able to clear up a few miscommunications between them. Buggy met his crew and Shanks met his. They got along for the most part and his crew even got to see the show for free at one point. He felt that he and Buggy cleared much of the air between them by the time they were both ready to leave the island.

They stood on the docks side by side as their respective crews got their ships ready, both watching, an easy companionable silence between them.

"You know, the hunt's not as intense as it was so soon after Roger's execution," Shanks commented offhandedly.

"Oh, so the Marines don't want your head so badly they gave you a billion berri bounty?"

"Pretty sure that's more for things I've done than things Roger did."

"Well, I'd rather not risk finding out."

"So, you'll never come back to the Grand Line?"

"I don't miss it that badly."

Shanks nodded to himself in reply, ignoring the small twinge of hurt.

"But… anything is possible I guess."

Shanks looked at his brother with a grin who reluctantly returned the gaze before rolling his eyes.

"It won't be any time soon, though. I've got a rather successful show I'm putting on here. Pirating's really a side gig. I'm not eager to go to the Grand Line as a future Emperor's brother and have the Marines breathing down my neck for it."

"Everyone keeps saying that. You really think the World Government would ever name an omega an Emperor?"

"Doesn't it mean something to you that so many people are willingly debating it in the first place? That wouldn't have happened 10 years ago. Besides, I don't think you'll leave them with any other choice," Buggy replied, a savage grin on his lips.

Shanks returned the smile before he reached over and patted the other man on the back.

"I really did miss you, Bug. I'm sorry it took so long to come see you."

Buggy rolled his eyes in response.

"I suppose that I could've gone to see you too. Not saying you're not an asshole and that I forgive you, but maybe you don't have to feel so guilty about me being alone. We were in the same boat. Our family fucking sucks."

A startled laugh escaped Shanks lips at that.

"Yeah, they kind of do," he agreed.

He also knew that both he and Buggy loved them fiercely and would forgive them in a second and go running back if they could. He had seen enough guilt and sorrow in Buggy's face when he talked about Roger, Rouge, Mugren, Donquino and the others to know that despite the resentment, there was love there too.

"Do me a favor? Give Rayleigh and Crocus extra special fuck yous from me next time you see them."

"I'll keep it in mind."

The two of them stood together for another moment before going to their respective ships. Shanks watched the Big Top sail away for a while, feeling more at peace with his past than he had in a long time. He still held some resentments and ill-feelings towards his former pack but there was some guilt that had eased from seeing Buggy again, seeing that despite their mutual hardships that they were both relatively alright. He resolved to go back to the Grand Line with a somewhat lighter heart.

He sailed with his crew through the East Blue, passing numerous islands. He didn't plan to stop for a while, they had enough supplies at least to last them until they got to Loguetown, but then he felt something he was not expecting. It was a bright flaring in his chest that was almost painful. It was like something that was long dead was coming to life inside of him, burning like a supernova and overtaking his entire body. It was such an intense feeling that it took his breath away and brought him to his knees. He felt Benn and Hongo flock to his side, both asking frantic questions as Shanks held his chest, half wondering if the feeling had melted a hole straight through him.

"Captain, what is it?"

"Are you alright?"

"Is it your chest? Is it your heart? Can you breathe properly? How many fingers am I holding up?"

Shanks ignored Hongo's line of inquest as he looked further east. There was an island in the distance and the flaring in his chest was concentrating into an insistent pull towards it. And he knew immediately what it meant.

"They're here," he breathed out in shock.

"Who's here," Benn asked with concern.

"The twins. I can feel them. They're on that island."

"You mean…"

"Luffy and Luta are here in the East Blue."

Benn and Hongo dropped back in shock, as did most of the crew.

Shanks suddenly had a decision to make. He was not in the same position as before, he was significantly more powerful but still not untouchable. His children would still be threatened if anyone were to find out the truth, but they had not encountered many Marines in the East and certainly, none of them were strong enough to hold a candle to Shanks' crew, not when they were used to dealing with bounties that couldn't even crack 20 million berries. Still, if he went onto that island, he could open up a can of worms that led his pups to being in danger.

But they were right there. It had been seven years and he needed to know if his children were alright. He couldn't walk away now. He couldn't chance leaving them alone.

"Set a course."

AN: Luffy and Uta are showing up in the next chapter. Some things will be different from canon and some will not. Uta in particular will be very different.