There was a warm breeze that picked up from the north, tossing the waves against the surfaced submarine. The day was quite beautiful, but the Heart Pirates were in no mood to enjoy the view. Solemn faces watched as their dead cremates were carried outside into the afternoon heat. Their bodies were wrapped in white canvas, preserving their remains for the short day they had been kept in the infirmary, as well as sparing their friends the sight of seeing their faces pale and cold. Silence, and the occasional sob, seemed to stab itself into Law's heart even more.
Now, the Heart Pirates were by no means weak. They were quite strong and hardened men, facing adversaries by the hundreds and overcoming death on multiple occasions. This did not mean that they wouldn't weep for their deceased nakama. And weep they did. Whether it was silently, or if a cry broke through every now and then, the company did not care, for they all grieved and allowed that small moment of emotion to present itself.
The two bodies were set down on the deck gently, and the few men who had carried them receded back into the general gathering. Law, who had hung back to wait, stepped forward and lowered his head. He winced slightly, forcing himself to ignore the sharp pain in his side until the end of the burial. This wasn't about him, and he could deal with a little pain until it was all over. He gripped his hat a little tighter in his hand.
"We've lost two good men." He started, seeing many of his crew try to hold back tears. The only reason Law was able to control himself so well was because he'd taken out his frustration on Viper's body-superficial wounds, of course, to allow Summer the opportunity to do what she wished with the man. His tears had already been shed, in the privacy of his sanctuary. It was not for selfish reasons. He was convinced that appearing as his usual calm self would help them grieve more naturally.
"Whether it was defending their nakama, doing their duties, or even winning drinking contests," The men chuckled, remembering a time long ago, "they always exceeded our expectations. They were both men you could depend on with your life, and I trusted mine in their hands. It was an honor to have them as nakama." Law finished, then stepped back to allow others to say a few words.
Casper went first. His head was bent, hands clasped in front of him. "Those two boys were always trying to sneak leftovers from the fridge when they thought I wasn't lookin'. But they would lend a hand in the kitchen sometimes, even without me asking. They'll be missed." He backed away, and Liam stepped forward.
"Scott and I were really good buddies. I didn't know Mark as well, but we could share a drink and talk easily." He swallowed, wiping at his eyes defiantly. "Scott could be working on one thing and be planning how to fix the next machine all at the same time. I didn't always understand what he was talking about, but he sure could do his job." He nodded, before fading back into the crowd.
Penguin and Shachi approached together, openly sobbing when they finally got out their words.
"Mark, that bastard, owed me 1000 beli, and then he had to go and die! I dressed like a woman for nothing! He was one of the best friends you could have though…" Shachi cried, and Penguin patted his shoulder as they finished.
There were many remarks about Mark's caring nature and Scott's quick wit. Law reflected that his crew's words really painted the picture of their lives, and he knew they'd be rolling in their graves if they knew how sentimental the men were being.
'Always the tough guys.' He thought with a tiny smirk.
It seemed that everyone had put in what they felt the need to say, and Law stepped up once again. His mind returned to the somber affair at hand.
"Scott-ya and Mark-ya will remain in our thoughts and hearts, and we will carry out their dreams and wishes to the end. Their deaths will not be in vain, and because of their sacrifice we honor them with a burial at sea. Their souls truly belong to the sea, and so here they shall remain."
And with those words, the team of men who had brought out the bodies brought out the lowering cloth, a large piece of canvas attached at several ends with ropes. They moved each one onto its own separate canvas. Grabbing hold of a rope each, they hefted up their nakama and began to lower them into the water below.
Law's men's cries seemed to peak, with each man sniffling and sobbing as they saw their friends for the last time. He struggled to refrain from punching the railing or screaming to the sky that none of this was fair. His men didn't deserve to die. They were only following his orders, and he'd gotten them killed…
Slowly, Scott and Mark were gently placed on the rocking waves. The men pulled up on the canvas and their bodies slowly sank to the depths below. There was a long moment of relative silence, as there were some who hadn't quite calmed down from the pain, and finally Law turned to his crew.
"Take your time to grieve. Heal in time, and know that Scott and Mark's deaths were not in vain. They will live on, guiding us in our journey."
There were several muttered "Aye, Captain" and the remaining men slowly trickled back inside. Law assumed the majority would retreat to their own quarters to accept what had happened. The grieving process was essential for a healthy mind, and Law understood that it would take time.
The captain and his first mate were all that remained on the deck. Law sighed deeply, smoothing his hair, or at least trying to, before placing his hat back on his head. He didn't drink much, usually only having a few bottles of sake when the crew was partying, but the urge to drown the dullness deep in his belly was growing with each thought of guilt that settled in his mind.
"It's not your fault, Captain." Law shook his head, leaning on the railing.
"I'm their Captain. I'm supposed to protect them and keep them safe. Their lives are my responsibility."
"You do." Bepo replied, joining him at the edge. The sun was almost setting on the horizon, casting a deep orange glow across the sea and submarine. The bear continued. "We trust you with our lives, but it's our responsibility to keep ourselves safe too. You can't always be there, and when you're not you trust us to be strong enough to face whatever we have to."
Law said nothing, unsure of how to respond. In his mind, the deaths of his crew were his fault, because he should have been there to protect them, or heal them when they needed him.
"We all want to find Summer, Captain. Like you said, Scott and Mark didn't die in vain. They died knowing that we were going to save Summer."
"They shouldn't have died." He concluded quietly, leaving the subject at that. His grief would remain for a long time, probably longer than his crew's. Mentally, he shouldered the burden of their deaths with sorrowful resignation. Only when they found Summer could he begin to forgive himself.
A straightjacket. She'd been upgraded to a straightjacket. With a muzzle, no less. The foul clothing stretched her arms around herself and the stupid mouth guard kept her from biting people. They'd even cuffed her feet with the smallest chain she'd ever seen, prohibiting her from doing more than an awkward shuffle in any direction. She had to be spoon-fed by the nurses, while strapped to the wall in addition to the straightjacket preventing her movement. As far as things were concerned, she was quite pleased that they were that intimidated by her ability to kill in the most impossible of situations, but annoyed that they decided to take such extreme measures to prevent it.
Once, they'd even escorted her to a testing room with a pole they used for rabid and dangerous animals. The wire retracted around her neck and it's length kept her at a far distance to her 'handler.' It was very uncomfortable, to say the least.
Even now, as she watched a nurse spoon feed her whatever mush they called food into her mouth, the fear and hesitation was palpable. If she weren't strapped to the wall, she'd have tried gripping the spoon in her mouth and stabbing the woman in the eye with it, using just her head. But that plan was null and void, since she couldn't go more than two inches away from it.
Well, she could at least try to scare her.
"Hey." She said in between mouthfuls. The nurse almost jumped out of her seat, eyes wide and hands dug into her chest.
'Someone doesn't want to lose any fingers.' Summer mused.
"Could you maybe scratch my side, down there on the left? This jacket isn't doing my skin any good." Obviously the nurse tried to ignore her, but the fear was rising. "What, no hospitality? I'm giving you guys a bad review…"
Still no response from the half-paralyzed nurse. Smirking, Summer leaned in as far as she could, ignoring the spoon being held out to her. "If I were you, I'd be watching my back at all times. You never know when someone'll sneak into your room and tear off your limbs one by one, then make you watch as she skinned you alive."
With a satisfied grin, Summer watched the nurse faint in front of her. The mental image she'd planted in her head had certainly had a great effect, and the results were quite pleasing. Lots of feet pounded and the next thing she knew, there were four armed guards bursting through the door to her cell. Summer gave them a pleasant smile, which failed since they couldn't see it past the muzzle.
"Oh, hey! We were just having a tea party! Wanna join?"
'Why isn't she breaking? How does she resist to such an extreme degree? What changed between now and then?' The Doctor paced his study, his mug of coffee left ignored on the desk. Several times, his gaze wondered to the aged wanted poster on the wall, as well as the newer, updated version of her bounty.
There was an obvious difference in appearance: she'd grown up, become more of a woman than what showed in her first wanted poster. The fear in her eyes as a young girl had molded itself into the hatred of the world and everything in it. He wondered what happened to all that hatred, though he knew most of it was probably just redirected towards him.
That little girl he'd experimented on, slowly driving crazy every day of her captivity, where had she gone? Where did she get all her fearless drive? It was infuriating! Baring his teeth, Max slammed his fist against the wall, rattling the plaques and bookcases from the force.
'What makes you so strong now?' The list of changes was played out within his head and he went through them one by one.
She grew physically stronger. She had been in Impel Down before escaping. She'd witnessed the War of the Best. She joined or was captured by the Heart Pirates-
Yes, it was those pirates. They had ruined his perfect subject, his perfect experiment, ruined by that damn Supernova. Trafalgar Law, was his name, a 'doctor' himself. Though what man who interfered with another man's life's work can hardly be called a doctor. The man was insane, by what the reports said, sending the Marines 100 hearts as payment for the title of Shichibukai.
He vowed that if he ever met this man, he'd make sure he knew what kind of hell Trafalgar had put him through. And he'd make his subject watch, just to try to break her again.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
