The Long Road Back
Summary: "Seems like your old buddies Smoker and Hina are en route to Base." Oh.
Oh fuck.
Drake tries to readjust to life in the Navy after Wano. It is not easy.
Notes: BIG BIG BIG THANK YOU to CrowSizna on Twitter for being my art partner for this Big Bang fic! All art by them! GO CHECK THEM OUT!
Chapter 1: Not According to Plan
Spotless white walls, gleaming floors, the crack of rifles for target practice on the dot. Drake counts these details, hoping they will stick in his skull. The sight of Navy watchtowers and the swoosh of the logo across the battlements, uniforms, caps, warships. Each one a little tick in his mind, like filling in one of those paint by numbers his mother had gifted him as a child.
"Once you leave home, it won't be home again."
Who had said that to him? Vice Admiral Tsuru? Sengoku? Time has muddied the memory like it is muddying his perception now. Have the walls always been this cramped? Have training drills always been this loud? Has sick bay always been so…
The nurse at the end of the hall sneaks a peek at him from the doorway then scampers. Where she'll go, Drake doesn't know. Disappear down endless winding corridors that he once knew like the back of his hand. Too big. Everything is too big, too clean, too orderly. Onigaishima was nothing like this. No, especially not toward the end with flames roaring and a hand at his throat–
"Scaring nurses without being a gross reptile now? Impressive," comes a snigger from the other end of the hall. The silly absurdly long hat enters first, then those stupid equally long shoes. Greenish blonde hair and a coat that definitely makes him look… well .
Like a try-hard. Like Drake's black leather pants and thigh-high boots. Drake should never have listened to him about what to wear as an undercover agent. Years of chafing once the damn image stuck. Should have listened to Kujaku's suggestions instead.
"At least they look at me," Drake mutters. Grus frowns, eyes hardening. Shit, there is too much bravado, too much ferociousness in his words. They taste bad in his mouth and he looks away, back out the window. Out of practice. (Except it shouldn't take practice to just be himself.) The bad taste deepens.
"Surprised you're still in bed, by the way—with your zoan powers and shit," Grus says, dropping onto the empty hospital cot next to him. Drake opens his mouth then closes it. His first instinct is to say None of your business . But that's the wrong one, the wrong response. He doesn't have to be that way here, among his people.
Here, at Grand Line Base 14, Drake can admit the truth.
"I didn't want to scare anyone, trigger a false Pirate Invasion Response ," he mumbles. The slight lie cakes his tongue. It's a lie like all the best lies, based in truth. But he can admit to himself, he hasn't left the sick bay because he isn't ready to deal with the glares and whispers and distrust. The consequences for taking on the duty of spy .
Word would get out soon enough in some shape or form that he had been a double agent. Red Flag X Drake was just a cover. An act. But a damn good one—one that would stick to his career forever. And all in the name of Justice.
But he's not ready to wear the letters on his back once again. Not yet.
"Like you'd stir up that kind of response in Doll's crew. They know that she'd never let you in here if you were a threat. Your friend, on the other hand…" Grus pushes his cap back, nearly whacking Drake's cheek with it. His hand tightens on the thin sheet.
"He's with me," he growls. The truth feels good on Drake's tongue, though the thought of Hawkin's current location does not. Jail on any Naval Base is unpleasant, but at least his injuries are being treated. Vice Admiral Doll had conceded that much.
"Yeah, well, that's not entirely up to you to decide, big guy," Grus clucks his tongue. Drake's lips thin into a firm line. If they could forgive the atrocities he had done while on assignment, then there should be redemption for Basil Hawkins too.
Or maybe they should both hang at the gallows. Either way, Hawkins's fate is now up to Drake and he would not fail him. Could not, for both their sakes.
"Any~way~" Grus claps his arm across Drake's broad shoulders, ignoring Drake's near flinch. "Got some news for ya." Drake's eyebrows rise. News? If it was anything along the line of orders, Grus would have dropped them by now, or sent Kujaku to do his actual work for him. Or tried too, rather, and gotten whacked for it. She is nothing if not Tsuru-san's granddaughter.
"Seems like your old buddies Smoker and Hina are en route to Base."
Oh.
Oh fuck.
"Do you think we brought enough? I don't want the children fighting over them. The large bear will be very popular and…" Tashigi riffles through the crates of toys the men had picked up from their latest trip to G-5, complete with a clipboard tucked under her arm.
Smoke drifts above Smoker's head as he directs it out the open porthole window to dissipate above the waves. A photo of Princess Vivi of Alabasta stares up at him from the newspaper in his hand, a special double length edition covering both the drama at the Reverie and the reported fall of both Kaido and Big Mom at Wano.
To Straw Hat and Law.
He clenches his jaw, teeth digging deeper into the cigar fibers. Things were in motion that could not be stopped now, the seas roiling. Innocents would be caught in the damn crossfire like always. God damn pirates, god damn Navy spreading their forces thin in ways Smoker didn't god damn understand!
Purupurupuru
Tashigi stops rifling through a crate of small tin robots to glance over to him as he eyes the snail before resigning himself to picking it up.
"Yeah?" Smoker grunts into the receiver. Purple eyes blink at him, slight amusement in the corners. He hates that the snail Hina gifted him prefers to emulate that specific part of her appearance, mostly because without the rest of Hina's features, her eyes seem permanently irritated with him.
"Do not be so impolite to Hina, Smoker-kun," Hina sighs. He leans back in his chair, Tashigi returning to her clipboard. The snail's eyes take on a slightly troubled look, the lips thinning. "Hina has heard you are heading to G-14," she drawls, the slight sizzle of a cigarette lighting up in the background. "So is Hina."
"What for? Thought you were stuck in HQ with the Alabasta investigation," he says, eyes barely flicking to Tashigi as she trips, the squeaking of a plush toy cushioning her fall.
"Hina is following up on a lead, but that's not what Hina is calling about." Smoker's eyebrows draw together, creasing in the middle, curiosity piqued. "Doll did not sound happy to see Hina."
"Your relationship isn't my problem," a fat swirl of smoke puffs from his mouth. Of all the people she should talk about that shit with, he wasn't one of them. A scar too new to prod so callously.
"Don't be a fool. Doll is happy with Hina, but Doll does not wish Hina was coming," she snaps, purple eyes rolling at him. "Nor does she wish Smoker-kun was coming."
"It's no secret I'm not her favorite," he grumbles, crossing his arms. A long rivalry starting in boot camp, exacerbated by things he didn't like to recall. The proverbial prodded scar throbs, then much to his discomfort, the real scar across his collar bone twinges.
Hina sighs, the annoyance she is feeling clear enough to be translated via snail. "Smoker-kun is smarter than this. Don't play stupid with Hina." He smirks, just a little. Ruffling Hina's feathers is an old beloved pastime. Pay back for her dragging him out to clubs to get plastered.
"Alright, so Doll doesn't want us visiting. Any idea why?"
Hina goes curiously quiet over the line, and that more than anything sets him on edge. "Doll wants us to report to her first thing when we arrive," she states, "But it's unusual… Did you know Kujaku-chan has been avoiding Hina's calls? Hina wonders…"
With that, she ends the call.
Snow clings to the roofs of Grand Line Base 14's watchtowers, held at bay by properly maintained drainage gutters. The stone walkways leading away from the docking bay are free of ice, cadets and cabin boys salting the earth often to keep it that way. It's something Hina admires about Doll. The brunette runs an outfit nearly as tight as Hina's.
This is one of the larger bases in the New World, with twice the usual number of Navy Regiments calling it home, courtesy of keeping a close guard on Egghead Island and its notorious proximity to Hachinosu. The fact that the entire base is managed by a woman is a testament to Doll's capabilities. A man's world means nothing to her. The very first time Hina had visited G-14, she'd almost felt a pang of envy. Not anymore, now that she's guarding HQ directly. A position fitting of her own capabilities.
"Please come drop by the children later, Smoker-san. I know they would love to see you!" Tashigi-chan flashes her bright smile in Smoker-kun's direction before separating from them, directing her squabble of men squashed beneath large crates towards a different sect of buildings. Hina's eyes narrow as they land on the familiar bulk of SG-1, the estranged home of SWORD. Her gaze lingers on its windows, sucking on her teeth before looking away, following after Smoker's bulk. She would never let SWORD operate under her. Too many wild cards, too much unpredictability, no matter how much she adored Kujaku-chan. Their blatant flaunting of regulations would gnaw upon Hina's bones too much. Better for others more… permeable to house them.
Her crew wails and throws flower petals behind her as the two of them leave the docking bay. She eyes her oldest friend, noting the slightly stiffer than usual way he walks. It will be some time yet before Smoker fully heals from his absurd beating by that overstuffed pink traitorous puppeteer. Hadn't Doll made a joke about how his bad luck with Shichibukai was the Navy's good fortune when she'd called Hina about Smoker dropping off children at her base a month prior?
Her breath mists in the air, picturing how easy that conversation had been in comparison with their most recent. Something in Doll's voice nagged at the back of her brain, that little bit of discomfort hitching in her throat. Doll, normally so straightforward, hedged on very little. Another thing Hina appreciated, though when it was deployed on her…
Infuriating. Like the mystery of Princess Vivi's kidnapping at the Reverie. An itch Hina could not scratch. But no matter, they would find out soon enough.
"There are fewer ships in the harbor than there should be," Smoker grunts as they enter the largest administration building, the temperature change a welcome reprieve.
"To be expected," Hina states, pursing her lips. She has had to nearly beg for permission to pursue a lead on Princess Vivi. "Hina is surprised Smoker-kun hasn't been given new orders."
"Maybe I have," he shrugs and Hina has to fight down the urge to reprimand him as usual.
"Poor Tashigi-chan, having to put up with you," Hina sighs, her shoulders relaxing just the smallest bit. Routine would do that. Doll had taken advantage of the top floor as her office, the multiple flights of stairs be damned. They are no issue for Hina, her own office in HQ is similar, but today the long ascent grates on her nerves.
At last, they arrive on the landing. Barbie, Doll's second-in-command, looks up from behind a carefully arranged fortress of papers, the light above glinting off her hairless head. How odd—for just a moment, Barbie looks anxious.
And then an instant later, it doesn't matter. Nothing does. For a whole solid second, she and Smoker stand frozen, staring down the short hall towards Doll's office door. And just to the left, sitting on the wooden waiting bench, is a face Hina had not expected to see (except in chains, preferably hers) ever again.
Bureaucracy. If there is one thing Drake does not miss about the Navy, it's the bureaucracy and its weaponization. The wooden bench outside Doll's office is slightly uneven and trembles with every tap of his foot on the cold concrete floor. The clock across the way ticks menacingly.
Commodore Barbie pretends to ignore him, shuffling through the papers on her desk a little way down the hall. She is Doll's first defense, and she plays the part well. Just menacing enough to keep him from barging through Doll's door.
Which he is going to do in five minutes if she doesn't call him in. Of course she wouldn't want to see him. The Vice Admiral is annoyed enough at the stir Drake's mere presence on her base has caused, but this is important .
This is… a matter that he would like to handle with care. As much care as he can. He had not expected this so soon, had hoped to… Drake sighs. He isn't even sure what he'd hoped. Thousands of imagined scenarios from the past five years flash through his mind. Meeting at a bar, showing up at one of their bases with an official rank reinstated… returning with the keys to taking down the Beast Pirate empire in his hands. Something. Anything.
But not this—when Drake couldn't even make himself wear a uniform, when his first response to the sight of the kanji for Justice was a grudging snarl.
Perhaps it's a good that Doll is making him sweat outside her door, because he isn't entirely sure what he wants to ask of her. Don't tell them he's here? Keep them away from SG-1? Ask Doll to lie to Hina's face about the whispers her men would undoubtedly hear in the halls? Drake runs his fingers through his auburn hair, the nakedness of his face startling.
Perhaps it had been too soon to remove the mask. Perhaps it would always be too soon. His justice has been so easy to find at death's door, but here—trapped within its walls—he can only find the urge to cower.
Footsteps on the landing echo off the concrete and Drake looks up. Long pink hair and purple eyes, lips that haunted his dreams with soft laughs and graceful smiles. And beside her divine visage, sharp angles and scars hidden behind sunglasses, broad shoulders and strong hands. Arms that had once held Drake tightly, safely, tenderly when all the world seemed against him.
For the strangest moment, Drake recalls the feeling of Admiral Kizaru's lightspeed foot connecting with his face, tumbling and crashing, all air crushed from his lungs.
Guess it's too late to ask Doll anything.
Notes:
This is a 10 chapter story, will be uploading one chapter a day! Smo/Hina/Drake my weakness yeah
Let me know your thoughts!
As always, thank you for reading and you can find me on twitter buggyisbest, hamstercheese7 everywhere else. ART by CrowSizna on twitter!
