Garp pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm down and breathe. Sengoku was patient beside him, his best friend on the phone and snapping orders left and right. Finally, Garp let out a sigh, forcing his hand to uncurl so he could look at the smiling face of his grandson once more. He was posing! Garp counted from ten backwards, holding his breath and slowly letting it out.

"I'm trying Garp."

He knew, he knew his friend was trying to sort this mess out but it was hard being patient. Still, now that he knew this wasn't Sengoku's fault it made him feel both better and worse. Better because his friend wouldn't betray him, worse because someone other than the fleet admiral managed to get a wanted poster for his grandson. As far as Garp was concerned, Luffy was a baby and certainly didn't belong out on the open sea with a wanted poster. Garp paused and started counting again, he hadn't even begun to consider how Luffy was already out at sea. Garp rubbed a hand down his face, he hadn't even thought of the other brats that were most likely the reason why his adorable little grandson was out at sea. His haki strained under his skin, his breaths coming in harsh. Oh, Garp was going to murder those two older idiots.

The click of the denden being hung up caught his attention and his frown deepened when he saw Sengoku's pale face.

"What" he spoke harshly, standing from the couch he had sat on and stomping over to the fleet admiral. Sengoku lowered his gaze and Garp felt something cold take root in his chest. There was a warning in the air, like the pressure before a storm. The sea outside was somehow too loud and Garp knew he wouldn't like what his friend had to say.

"Garp," his friend began, his voice heavy. "The celestials want him dead."

Numbness gripped at his chest past the biting cold and a roar was in his ears. Dead? He fell back against the wall and a heavy thud filled the still air. Sengoku wasn't looking at him, and somehow Garp knew there was no way out of this one. He nodded stiffly, straightening and walking towards the door.

"I'm supposed to warn you about any action you take but," Sengoku paused, his voice small. Garp knew, he had been around when Sengoku realized his son had died. He knew Sengoku carried his regrets on his shoulders every day, every time he saw the word 'justice' on the back of a cape.

When his friend didn't finish, Garp nodded his head and reached to open the door.

"Thanks, Senny."

xxx

He found himself at the beach, the moon high in the sky and the breeze cool on his skin. A den den was clutched in his hand and he tried to be gentle with the poor thing, but his frustrations were mounting and his worry increasing by the hour. His white cape blew back stiffly, his hair becoming windswept as he raised the untraceable den den to his mouth, the call already ringing. A soft click and static was heard for a moment before an unfamiliar voice spoke.

"The Family is strong," the voice was low and quiet, cutting off and waiting for the rest of the phrase from Garp.

"...in the belly of the beast." Garp finished with a tight frown and the den den in his hand nodded, mimicking the actions of the other person on the line. "I need to speak with the old man. Tell him the dog is barking."

"One moment."

The line went silent and Garp trailed his eyes back towards the ocean, pushing down his anxiety and swallowing the forming lump in his throat. The perks of being old was having many connections, he hardly used them, but was glad they were around at times like this.

"The last time the dog barked, Roger was still alive." Whitebeard's gruff voice carried over the line and Garp let a smirk form on his face. "So tell me, why now?"

Garp was silent for a moment before he spoke, shifting to sit down on the sand and talk among the waves crashing on the beach. "A pup is being hunted, you'll know when you see the bounty." There was silence from Whitebeard, but he could hear the shifting of paper and scuffling of feet. He watched as the den den in his hand began to scowl and it's eyes lit up with a fury not it's own.

"We will watch." Whitebeard's voice was tense, a rage simmering underneath and Garp smiled. "Thanks, old friend." He hung up and clutched at his head, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to gather himself. He was glad someone like Whitebeard still lived, he knew the man hated the hunting of children more than any other. Now it would be in Garp's favor that the man cherished family above all.

xxx

Thatch shifted nervously, watching his pop's shadowed eyes and clenched fists in silence. The other commanders did the same, all weary of their father's anger. It could be felt in the air, in the way it thickened around his person and seemed to seep into everything around him. In his giant hand a wanted poster was gripped tightly, knuckles white around it. It was at an angle that Thatch couldn't see and he wasn't quite brave enough to ask the man to turn it over yet. He wished Marco was there, he would have known what to do.

"My children," pop's began, straightening his back and rising to his full height, the chair he was on toppling back. "A friend has called in a favor, and this is one I will not see failed."

Thatch swallowed, eyeing the paper that was still in the shadows of his hand. Whitebeard seemed to know what they were thinking and turned the paper over to show them. A blinding smile greeted him, bright eyes and a straw hat. The boy's cheeks were a little too round, his eyes a little too wide for him to be anything other than a child. His gaze trailed down and he saw the name: Monkey D Luffy.

Now he knew why Garp the fist had called. Thatch felt his resolve harden and his fists clench, he was the first to nod in agreement. He couldn't stand any child being hurt, they were all innocent and didn't deserve any of the nonsense adults hindered them with. They especially didn't deserve the world government hunting them down.

"I'll tell Marco," Thatch didn't wait for a response, he simply turned and ran to the communication room, already desperate for more eyes to keep a lookout.

xxx

Mihawk wasn't one for drama, didn't care about the intricoes of people's lives simply because he didn't care about people. However, Shanks was another matter. He had basically grown up with the man, trained with him for years on end and watched as time weathered them to the men they were. He knew every aspect of the man's life and was somewhat insulted that he hadn't known about this important piece of information.

"You son hmm?" His voice carried far enough to get Shanks to pause mid step, and he watched as his longtime friend let out a shaky breath, a hollow laugh echoing across the deck. Shanks ran a hand down his face, shaking his head even as he agreed with him.

"Yeah, yeah my son." He paused and a scowl twisted at his face before he motioned for him to come closer. Mihawk raised a brow but moved forward, wondering what Shanks was unwilling to tell his crew. He didn't miss how Benn raised his voice in the background and barked out orders, or how Yassopp made more of a ruckus than usual. Shanks leaned against the railing, eyes trained on the sea and hands tight on the wood. Thunder boomed in the distance and the winds shifted abruptly, they both paid it no mind.

"Biologically, he's not mine." Shanks began, avoiding his gaze as he spoke. "He belongs to the sea."

Mihawk gave him a bland look, unimpressed. Of course, the kid would think so, especially if he wanted to be anything like his 'father'. Shanks noticed his gaze and he let out another sigh, shaking his head.

"No, no really." Shanks gestured towards the ocean and ran his hand through his hair, shaking stray drops of salt from the locks. "He's a sea child, and she's quite protective of him. Gave me quite the shock when he called the ocean mom, but it was even wilder seeing it listen." Shanks cupped his hand as if to capture the water that sprayed towards them. His red eyes were set on the few drops that splashed on his hands, watching them bead and roll down his arm.

"I used to pick him up every morning from the sea, she loved to rock him to sleep, and he loved to tread her waters." Shanks gaze grew distant and Mihawk felt his heart stutter in disbelief.

Surly not.

"One day, he wanted to join us so bad that he stabbed himself under the eye!" Red hair uncurled the bounty and pointed at a small scar under the boy's eye. "She healed him, but he said he wanted to keep it, said it made him look cool." Shanks let out a small laugh, it was barely there and blanketed under stress, but Mihawk could feel the fondness in it.

"He called me dad first, though I'm starting to think that they were both in on it. But, I think she knew before I did and maybe I just needed some convincing." Shanks swallowed and grabbed a flask from his coat, opening the bottle and tilting his head back for a long drink. He gulped it down and offered him some, but Mihawk declined, needing his full attention on the impossible tale Shanks was relaying to him.

His friend shrugged and took another swig, squinting his eyes against the first droplets of rain that began to pour down. Neither of them minded, they were used to life on the sea. The ship rocked under his feet and he leaned against the rail for extra purchase. Water dripped down the brim of his hat and he moved closer to his friend, making sure he would be able to hear over the roar of the rain.

"The people at the village prayed to him," Shanks said softly after a moment of silence. "The barkeep, Makino raised Luffy mostly and her only condition was that no one ever mention it. I don't think he knows to this day." Red eyes moved from the sea to land on him, watching his every move. "Luffy was allowed to wish them luck if they asked, but that's as much as he was ever told." Shanks shifted and water dribbled down his face and under his clothes. His coat hung heavy around his shoulders and his boots squelched as he shifted. Mihawk stared at the captain, his face neutral even as he tried to process the information.

Shanks finally broke eye contact and carefully opened up the soaked poster. Only Alive glared back at the both of them.

"I think," Shanks started, his eyes narrowing. "That maybe the celestials are scared of meeting an actual miracle worker."

Mihawk caught on to Shanks hesitance immediately, his golden eyes narrowing. "Miracle worker? Not a god?"

He watched as Shanks face tightened and his lips thinned, eyebrows drawn down low enough to shadow his eyes. "Luffy is Luffy, no matter what he is." Silence reigned between them for several moments before a fond smile lit Shanks face once more, his cheeks beginning to redden from the alcohol.

"Luffy tells us what she says sometimes, how she knows who's good and bad for him or any stories that she was there to see. She even knew a few about me! Luffy has enough leverage over me for a lifetime!" A dry laugh left Shanks, his red hair now soaked through and clinging to the sides of his face.

Mihawk briefly closed his eyes in contemplation, an idea fluttering through his mind. "If what you say is true," he began, catching Shank's attention. "Then why not tell the sea where you two can meet? And if he's there, I'll believe you. If not, well, I'll have my answer."

Shank's eyes widened, a wide smile slowly stretching across his face as he grabbed Mihawk by his shoulders and danced in place. "You're a genius Hawky!"

His eye twitched, it being the only sign of his irritation at the nickname before he removed Shanks hands from his shoulders. "Well, go on then." He gestured towards the churning waters and waited for the red haired man to make a fool of himself. Shanks froze for a moment, tilting his head in thought before smiling and leaning over the railing.

"Hey!" He was loud and Mihawk cringed at the noise. "Tell Luffy to meet me at Sabaody!"

Shanks straightened abruptly and turned to walk away, purpose in his step as he headed towards the navigation room. Mihawk was left alone near the rail, his hat beginning to become soaked through and dampen his black hair. His skin was chilled as a breeze swept by and made his clothes cling. He glanced at the churning waters and thought about the wide smile and carefree eyes. Shanks had seemed so genuine, and Mihawk knew the man was nearly impossible to fool. He hadn't become an emperor by being dumb, and he knew Shanks had seen his fair share of odd. But…

Shanks also hadn't denied the title of god.

He took in a deep breath, eyes trailing to the horizon that was darkened by storm clouds and only illuminated by the occasional flash of white-hot lightning.

Surly not.

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Thanks for the love!