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naomihatake · 6 months

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In search of freedom (Ch. 6)

6. Where are you when I need you the most?

⠀⠀➺ fic masterlist

⠀⠀➺ Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6 ; Chapter 7

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa

Warnings for this chapter: angst, graphic depictions of deaths and fatal wounds, vomiting, self-harm, brief suicidal mention, canon-typical violence. (proceed with caution since it's getting a tiny bit gore)

Word count: 9,1 k (I'm proud of myself tbh)

Theme song: fic spotify playlist (click on the link)

A/N: I'm sorry for appearing with a new chapter 9 days later and I hope the wait was worth it. I dropped more details about the Witch's past in this chapter and some interesting interactions with her other crewmates. The next week I'm free, which means there's a chance I might most two charters until next Sunday <3.

I'm always open for opinions and comments. Whatever you want to tell me, just do it, even all you feel like doing is leaving a heart in my comments or inbox. Every interaction is appreciated and thank you so much for sticking to this story till now <3

The reader is referred to as "Witch" because I have no intentions of using "Y/N".

A warm palm touched her shoulder and squeezed reassuringly, but with no effect. The witch turned her head towards Luffy, her glassy eyes betraying her. It made their captain frown with worry. The sound of her real name slipping from between his lips stung worse than expected.

"It'll be alright," he smiled. "Zoro is a strong swordsman."

With horror painting her features, she shook her head and placed her shaking hand over his, gripping gently.

"You don't get it, Luffy, do you?" her voice came out like a whisper. "It's not just any dwell and that man isn't just any swordsman. I've seen plenty of people dying in front of my eyes, the crew I used to be part of, they didn't hold a chance against—"

She sank her teeth in her lower lip and looked up, blinking away the tears. Her breath was shaking and the grip on Luffy's hand got tighter. Slowly, she inhaled deeply, body trembling as her lungs swallowed the morning cold breeze.

Both Usopp and Luffy were frowning, listening intently to her words.

"This won't end well," she concluded. "He willingly got himself in danger. Zoro is nothing but some prey for Mihawk."

Luffy's sympathetic gaze didn't help her, it didn't ease her worries as he hoped. Her panic was fed by each single thought passing through her head, by each memory making a nest in the present.

"I've met one single Warlord in my entire life and he destroyed half of the strongest crew I ever knew at that time. I know who they are, I know their tactics, I know they're not to play with."

Both of her hands were clasped around Luffy's shoulder, turbulent eyes meeting his. The tips of her nails dug lightly in his skin, but he didn't wince or move.

"Yes, we are strong, but still not strong enough for them," the witch intentionally lowered her voice so it wouldn't crack into sobs. "Please tell me you know I didn't argue with him because I like to. Please tell me you get what I mean, Luffy. I'm scared."

She was barely aware of her admission, but it was hard to hold back. The witch wasn't a scaredy-cat, she didn't run away, pride filled her being all too well to ever lose a battle, be it against herself or others. That time, however, she was scared out of her mind for the swordsman.

Luffy gave her the sweetest smile she's seen in ages and squeezed her shoulder again. "He will be alright."

She let her head tilt forward, hands falling back to her sides. His faith was greater than her fears, but he couldn't erase the panic settling in her bones.

"You have no clue how much I wish you were right."

It hurt. Her chest hurt and something was crawling up her throat, differently than back in Syrup Village. It made her feel nauseous, it bubbled in her stomach and gripped at her neck, it constricted her lungs and air punctured their tissue.

Zoro just walked out of the galley exactly when the sun could be barely seen rising up from the waters. The bandana was wrapped around his head and his earrings chimed like a melody, making her head turn towards him.

The same horrified gaze from hours ago was stuck on him and yet he chose to ignore her, passing by without even casting a glance.

She stood there when Usopp, Luffy and Zoro walked by, her back turned to them. The witch had to collect the pieces of her broken heart before daring to glance at a list fight on the swordsman's side. Mihawk was already waiting for them right in front of the restaurant.

She couldn't watch another dear person die. Not again.

Her fingers dug painfully into her palms, until her nails left crescent marks on the skin, until it hurt so badly the tears in her eyes couldn't fall. Their synchronized steps beat like drums, just like her heart.

Everything was blurred out. She didn't dare look until she heard swords clashing. Like a snap, her head turned.

Mihawk stopped Zoro's attack with one small knife.

He had no chance against the warlord, just like she guessed.

No, she thought. I can't be pessimistic now. Maybe at least he'll get out alive—

But pirates don't just let their dwell partners live, the other side of her conscience commented.

Each one of Zoro's attacks were either stopped or dodged so easily by Mihawk, who seemed like he was playing rather than fighting. He was so light on his feet, body moving like a feather between Zoro's blades.

The warlord sent her green-haired crewmate flying back with a mere push of his knife when he blocked yet another one of his attacks. When Zoro got back to his feet and rushed towards him, Mihawk continued dodging each one of his attacks.

The witch could only hear a muffled conversation from a distance. She didn't even notice when Nami passed by her until she saw orange strands of hair bouncing in her vision.

The navigator didn't come from the restaurant, as she should've since she searched for a drink — or that's what she said. She walked from the other side of the dock. Her hands trembled by her side and she walked slowly, fearfully, her body so stiff, until she stopped behind Luffy.

The witch focused for so long on Nami, her gaze fell on Zoro only when the right side of his chest was penetrated by Mihawk's knife.

Air got stuck in her throat and time stopped in its tracks. Her feet were stuck right where they were and she couldn't move an inch.

Zoro, his name lingered in her thoughts, the sound of it along with the sweet chiming of his golden earrings.

Time stretched like an elastic. Seconds passed by at an agonizingly slow pace, as if the Universe itself decided to torture her with that image.

Swords. Corpses. Blood. Fear.

The witch let out a shaky breath while she trembled like a leaf in the breeze.

Zoro made a step back, the knife slipping away from his flesh. With a few other steps, he fell to his knees, with his swords digging into the wooden battens to keep himself steady.

Mihawk curled his fingers around the hilt of the sword on his back.

It seemed like he decided to end it all right then and there.

The witch didn't know if it was her imagination when Zoro seemed to glance towards her for a brief moment. All she knew was that her heart sank into her stomach and she could hear the audible cracks of her soul. The green-haired man took his white sword, placing it in between his teeth.

His gaze moved back to Mihawk so quickly she could barely register it. Her stomach turned upside down and her chest tightened when she saw Zoro rotating his other two swords faster than the brain was able to comprehend.

Mihawk and Zoro jumped into the attack at the same time. She didn't know if their swords collided or not.

Zoro fell to his knees again, panting. The swords in his hands crumbled into pieces all the way to the hilt, right in the middle of the runes the witch drew hours ago on the blades. His Wado Ichimoji fell from between his teeth.

He didn't stop there. Of course that fucking idiot didn't stop. He used the white sword to get up, resting his weight into it until he finally stood straight again, turning to Mihawk. Carefully, he sheathed his Wado Ichimoji.

With his arms held in the air and hands curled into fists, Zoro didn't let go of his word as he proudly admitted:

"Wounds on the back are a swordsman's greatest shame."

The warlord said one word the witch didn't hear and then, with a swift motion, his sword cut deeply through Zoro's chest.

The green-haired man fell on his back, eliciting a shout of his name from Luffy.

Zoro.

His name was all the witch could hear while she rushed to his side, tears blurring her vision, tears she couldn't afford to show.

Just like he did a few moments ago, the witch got to her knees, eyes focused on the t-shirt getting soaked in Zoro's blood.

"Fucking dammit," she spoke in a hoarse voice, hands trembling.

He was bleeding heavily, the dark blue nuance of his shirt replaced by dark crimson. The wound started from under his left clavicle and curved through his chest, all the way to the right side of his ribs. Without a second thought, the witch took off her unbuttoned shirt and folded it, just to press the material on his large wound.

"Monkey D. Luffy," Mihawk said. "what's your goal?"

"I'm going to become the King of the Pirates," Luffy responded through gritted teeth.

The witch's burning gaze raised to the warlord who stood tall meters away, putting his sword back in place on his back. Her fingers ached to touch her revolvers and shoot holes through that man until she's satisfied, until the monster lurking in the depths of her soul had its blood thirst quenched. However, her hands remained pressed against her shirt, trying her best to stop Zoro's bleeding.

She's always been revengeful when people dear to her heart were harmed. Revenge she never denied, a trait of hers she's accepted long ago.

"That's a much more treacherous path than even defeating me. This world could use a few more wild cards."

"Go fuck yourself," the witch let out with wrath burning in her eyes.

She clenched her jaw and her eyebrows knitted together into a deep frown. Anger filled each corner of her being, blinding her almost all the way up, filling her to the brim.

One more drop and she would lash out.

Zoro's safety was more important than her rage and she was completely aware of that. The wounded swordsman was the only reason why she stood still by his side.

"It's too soon for him to die," and with that, Mihawk's gaze fell back on the green-haired man. "Roronoa Zoro, grow strong and come find me. I'll be waiting."

Fucker, the witch's thought wasn't voiced out that time while the warlord walked away.

"Luffy," Zoro spoke in such a soft voice.

The witch and Luffy immediately looked back at him. He was struggling to breathe properly, that mere motion probably making his entire body ache painfully.

"If I fail to become the world's greatest swordsman," he faintly spoke, barely able to open up his eyes. After some greedy gulps of air, he continued: "you'll be disappointed. Right?"

With a shaky breath, Luffy smiled at him as tears gathered in his eyes.

"You could never fail me."

The witch could feel her body shake when she realized the swordsman's life was hanging on a thread.

"Never again. From now… until I beat him," Zoro continued talking in between panting.

The witch wished she could tell him something, anything, but all she could do was continue pressing her shirt over his wound. Looking at him in that state made her heart squeeze in the cage made of ribs, wishing she could be in his place and take his pain away.

With trembling hands, he somehow managed to draw his Wado Ichimoji out of its scabbard, holding it up as he looked up at the blue sky.

"To become the greatest swordsman… I will never lose again!" he let out with a shaky breath, voice scratching at the witch's eardrums.

One of her hands curled around his shoulder and squeezed firmly, intending to bring his attention to her only for a second.

"I'm sorry about what I said, alright?" she gulped down hard, her voice cracking. "You need to live, yeah? I know you'll become the greatest. I'm sorry, Zoro, I'm sorry."

She was sorry for lashing out at him. If they were to part ways in that moment, then she'd rather make sure he never believed she was mad at him, that she didn't hate him even for a second. It was a feeling her heart wasn't capable of harboring towards him — never him. She would've ripped her ribcage open and given him her heart if she could.

The witch could only hope his tired and pained self heard her words, even as his eyes closed immediately after his arm dropped to his side along with the sword.

"You better stay alive," she whispered while looking down at him.

Her words became muffled from his perspective. All he heard was his name being spoken multiple times by Luffy and Usopp.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

The witch has been sitting on the floor of her shared room with Nami for a while now, ever since the navigator started reading. Zoro laid unconsciously on her bed, bandages wrapped around his torso. For a long time, she didn't even dare look at him.

She will be eternally grateful for Zeff's help — the chef cook of Baratie who snitched Zoro up and told them to do whatever was necessary to keep him alive, be it telling stories or singing sea shanties.

Despite the fact that Zoro's wound wasn't bleeding anymore, her heart still screamed at her.

With knees pulled up to her chest and her forehead resting in between them, she wrapped her arms around her stomach, subconsciously protecting herself from God-knows-what. She couldn't sleep either, despite listening to Nami's alluring voice as she read from a book.

The bandage on her upper arm was worn out and it's been longer than a day since Zoro wrapped it. It was dirty with blood from the time when she intentionally squeezed it before sobs could leave her lips.

Nami stopped reading, but the witch didn't register the lack of sounds surrounding her until she heard a voice. She didn't bother to raise her head, keeping her eyes closed as she responded:

"Can you say that again? Sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

"Pull yourself together," Nami whispered.

The witch knew that if she'd look up, she'd see a scolding or maybe a worried pair of blue eyes staring at her.

"I will when the situation asks for it," plainly, she dismissed the navigator. "Until then, I couldn't give less of a fuck."

She was aware of her position, of how small she looked, curled like a ball against the wall, hugging herself and praying to every God she knew that the swordsman would wake up. It was pathetic, but there was no wiser way to hide her overwhelming pain. Wrapping around herself sounded like the most helpful option.

"There are a few things you two should talk about when he wakes up," Nami closed the book with a small thud.

"I'd tell anyone anything if I knew he'd wake up," this time, her voice trembled lightly.

The witch swallowed the lump in her throat that's been sitting there uncomfortably for hours, with no positive effect. The only way to even her breathing was by holding the air in her lungs for a few seconds and letting it all go with a long exhale.

"Nami."

Only then, the witch raised her head. She looked deplorable, with disheveled hair and sunken eyes, dark circles under them from the lack of sleep. Her chapped lips were red because she ripped the skin off with her nails again. There was no sign of life on her face.

Obviously, she's had better days. Everyone did, probably.

"Maybe it's because I'm sorrow-drunk and can't bring myself to hide it anymore, but I have to tell you something."

She's been debating on whether or not she shall tell Nami about her suspicions ever since she pulled out those two cards out of the tarot deck.

"I know you're hiding something, but you can't hide it from me."

The truth has been spoken. With her heart beating loudly in her eardrums and threatening to break her ribs, she continued.

"I know. You're planning betrayal."

The navigator's eyes widened as panic flooded in her soul. The orange haired woman had no clue where all this came from, didn't know how fuck she found out about that, when and why—

"I didn't tell anyone."

"Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?" came out Nami's sharp response.

"I never expected you to admit it, if I am to be honest."

The witch rubbed her palms over her face and sighed heavily, as if a weight was pressed on top of her body.

"I also know there's more to the story. I don't know what or who you're protecting yourself from, I have no clue exactly why you're doing all this, but there's one thing I know for sure: the world is sitting on your shoulders, yet you refuse letting us help you carry it."

Nami stiffened in her chair. Her back straightened and her empty gaze pushed the witch out of her thoughts.

"Are you jumping to conclusions because of some stupid cards?"

"They definitely know more than me."

"Did you read you should treat your paranoia in there too?"

"While I admit there are times when I have crippling anxiety," the witch calmly stated, "I'm one hundred percent sure this isn't just a fairy tale. It's your choice to tell me or continue to keep it for yourself."

"But?" her voice lowered dangerously close to snapping.

"But we're not your enemies, Nami, and you know that well."

Not an answer the navigator expected, definitely.

"Zoro is unconscious on the bed and you're talking in metaphors — have you all gotten insane on this ship?"

"If I did, it was long before stepping on The Going Merry," the witch let out a stiffled laugh.

She dropped her forehead on her knees again, squeezing herself tighter in the embrace. The witch wasn't any less panicked than Nami, since opening up such a discussion scared her deeply. It was better than hiding and lying, though, and it felt less guilty.

"Why did you tell me this?" Nami asked with a whisper. "Be it right or wrong, why would you?"

"You don't deserve to be lied to, Nami. It makes me feel bad — hiding this from you made me feel like garbage from the start."

Even then, a gram of her guilt vanished.

"You're weirdly honest. You're aware this will haunt you one day, aren't you?"

"It's been haunting me since I got born," a sour smile painted the witch's face.

"The devil must've put some kind of curse on you."

"I only believe in evil spirits, sorry."

She didn't know where that soft laugh came from. Maybe it was her way of copying with the anxiety, with the pain. All she knew was that she hoped Nami wouldn't hide from them forever.

"Is there anything else you want to accuse me of?"

Faster than Usopp's snapping, Nami was once again serious, and the witch didn't have to look at her to figure it out.

"I never accused you. I know I'm right, but I'm not aware of the entire truth. You, on the other side, are aware of your own reality and I believe in your judgment. I hope you'll make the wisest decision and I'm saying this from the bottom of my heart."

"That's rich coming from someone so suspicious."

She's always been that way, the witch had to admit it. It wasn't only anxiety or tarot readings, there were times when she was straight up acting and thinking like a paranoid and it was cutting years off her life. Worrying and thinking over and over again, being hyper aware of everyone's actions, including her own.

Nami resumed her reading, her voice strained this time, as if she forced herself to talk out loud. Each syllable sounded rougher than the other, but that didn't stop the navigator from telling that story.

The witch wasn't paying attention, instead focusing on the moments spent with all of them, just like last night, when they were all eating and teasing each other. She needed to talk to Zoro, to tell him again that she's sorry.

Maybe he didn't hear me clearly before he fell unconscious, she wondered. She moved one of her arms and curled her fingers around the wound on her bicep. It stung good. If it could stop the stream of tears threatening to fall, then it was good, no matter how much it hurt, how the pain sunk deep into her bones, making her flinch.

There was something she wanted to clear out with Nami, but before the witch could speak, approaching steps made her mouth close shut. The presence felt light once her senses registered it, like a sparkling piece of hope — Luffy. She remained like a statue, breathing so slowly it was barely obvious she was still alive.

"Why did the king have to kill him?" he asked innocently.

He was referring to Nami's telling.

Without even having to glance up at him, the witch knew he was feeling unwell. There was no light in his voice and he sounded unsure of himself, so disoriented.

"Sometimes, when you are in charge, you have to make the tough decisions," she muttered between gritted teeth.

The witch knew where this conversation was heading.

"Why does everybody keep saying that?"

Luffy's voice desperately tried to reach out to the orange-haired woman.

Judging from the creaking of the chair, Nami got up from her seat as she spoke:

"Because you could've saved Zoro. He didn't have to fight Mihawk, but you let it happen. "

A few seconds of silence filled the room with thick tension.

"Look at her," Nami pointed with her chin towards the witch. "It looks like if he goes, she goes too. If one of us crumbles, everyone does. Look at us, at how we're handling it, at how Zoro does or, better said, how he doesn't handle it."

The witch couldn't understand why she was suddenly part of their conversation or why Nami took her side and tried to protect her from some unknown entity. Probably, she really looked worse than she thought. A sense of relief patched up one of the countless wounds under her skin when she figured out the navigator said all those things because she cared.

At the very same time, she knew Nami's words must've made Luffy suffer greatly, pushing her to raise her head and give her friends her entire attention.

"Nami," the witch intervened gently.

"You're in no place to talk," she cut her off quickly, her eyes like turbulent seas. "We're all a mess and it's all because of his stupid decision. But he could've been stopped," Nami turned her head to Luffy again.

"Nami, stop it," the witch furrowed her eyebrows. "Fighting will do no good. We've argued enough last night, there's no need for that anymore."

Nami was panicked and stressed out of her mind as well. Everything gave her away: the trembling hands, the shaking voice, tone close to breaking in a million pieces with each word, even the tears that gathered in her eyes. However, no drop rolled down her cheek.

"Tell me, Luffy," Nami vehemently continued with a tensed expression. "Would you see him like this? He might die."

Stop saying that, please, the witch thought as she took in another breath. He knows. Everyone knows. Please, stop saying he'll die because I might believe it too. I want to believe in him, not in whatever life changing lesson the universe gave me.

"And I'd do anything to save him," Luffy whispered with a tender smile on his face.

Me too. I'd rip my heart out of my chest and give it to him. I'd rip off my flesh and put it on his wounds. I'd die if I knew my life would be given to him.

"Anything," Luffy continued. "Except stand in the way of his dream."

God fucking dammit.

"We all have dreams, but we outgrow them," Nami clenched her teeth after she spoke.

"Is that really what you think?" Luffy's smile held so much hope. "Don't you have a dream?"

"Yeah. Right now, is for Zoro to not die in my bed," the navigator let out in a strangled voice.

"Isn't there something that you want? Something more," the straw hat whispered. "More than anything else in this world."

When the witch looked at Nami, it was obvious she was on the verge of tearing up, her nostrils flaring. Her eyes were already bloodshot.

"Not everyone gets to follow their dreams."

Nami didn't wait for any of them to respond before she walked out of the room. The witch got to her feet and tried to catch the navigator's hand in hers, but she wasn't fast enough. All she could do was glance at Luffy and place both of her palms on his shoulders, just like he did at the crack of dawn.

He looked at the witch with a hopeful and equally worried gaze.

"I know you meant the best when you encouraged him to follow his dream, Luffy," the witch squeezed his shoulders. "It's alright. Nami knows that as well. She's worried, like all of us. We all said hurtful things to each other lately."

His lips trembled when he attempted to say something, but he didn't dare to anymore. Instead, he searched for reassurance.

Was he in the wrong? Did Zoro get hurt because of him?

"It's not your fault," the witch continued with a tiny smile on her face. "I promise you. Everything led up to this. It couldn't have been avoided, unfortunately. No one could've stopped Zoro — you know he's a stubborn asshole."

Luffy scoffed.

"You know I'm right."

"I do," the straw hat nodded shily. "I think…" he gulped down, looking at his feet. "Maybe I can clean his sword for when he'll wake up."

"I'm sure he would be grateful about it. I'll stay here a bit longer."

She didn't let go of Luffy's shoulders until he moved away. Just to ease her concern, he smiled faintly at her before leaving the room.

Looking down at the unconscious pirate hunter, the witch couldn't believe her eyes. She gulped, not even daring to grasp at his hand, scared he'd break even because of a feather-like touch. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes for a few seconds, opening them again only to see the same man in the exact same position.

She was scared for him, for his life. She didn't want to be a nuisance and stop him from doing what he believed would bring him happiness. Or maybe that word was too much — but winning against Dracule Mihawk would've made him proud, it would've fulfilled a promise he made to someone long ago. She didn't know who was at the other end of the promise, but he seemed to be a man of his word, so trying to stop him turned her into a selfish person.

Her eyes were locked on his face, brushing with the back of her hand some small droplets of sweat on his forehead. She was worried out of her mind, now regretting she didn't do more to stop him, to make him change his mind when he was maybe too drunk to think twice.

"Be careful, Zoro," the witch told him back then, her gaze betraying the worry crippling through her entire being.

She was right. He should've been more careful. He should've been less reckless, should've listened to Nami and her, even if Luffy encouraged him to chase his dream. Was it really worth it?

Once again, she sighed. She was selfish, greedy, it was wrong to think that his dream wasn't worth the entire world. Heck, even she would do anything for him, just to see him open his eyes again, just to hear another bored or witty remark coming from between his lips.

Instead, he was silent and still, only the slow movement of his chest visible as he breathed. It was the only thing that managed to bring her an ounce of comfort.

At least he was alive, she continued telling herself.

It was clawing at her heart, messing with it, her thoughts roaming around, jumping one on top of another. She was overthinking again, the worst habit she could've had — or that's what she silently believed for years.

The witch should've fought with him to death back then, when he was stubborn enough to throw Nami's words at her while they argued. Maybe it would've made him change his mind. As she continued looking at him, she worthlessly tried to take some of the blame for what happened.

Hidden under his bandages, the same wound made the woman standing by his side believe she saw the Death Reaper, even if he was the one unconscious on a bed.

Carefully, she sat down next to him, without taking her eyes off of him even for a moment.

"You're kind of worrying us all, y'know? Luffy is in denial of your possible death and Nami seems restless. Usopp is too silent for his usual self," she whispered.

Her first instinct was to touch him, but her fingertips hovered above his hand. She didn't know if it would've been right to seek the warmth of his skin while he wasn't even awake. All the witch could do was hope that deep down in his soul, he felt and heard all of them.

"I'm worried too. No. Worried is an understatement. I'm terrified," the words trembled as they left her lips, the same chopped lips she sank her teeth into. "I'd rather have you call me an idiot," she chuckled sourly.

With slow and careful gestures, she gathered enough courage to caress his hand with her fingers, feeling small cuts here and there. He was still warm, which eased a few of her worries.

She made a long pause, staring at the seemingly lifeless man she would give her life for.

"Remember when we drank together on the deck, two nights ago?"

A fragile smile appeared on her face at the reminder of that night. She stole the last drop of his bottle before he could finish it with a grin, playfully nudging at his ribs. He failed to threaten her about how she owes him something for that. He was handling his liquor better than her and yet, he couldn't hide his smirk or the sparkle in his eyes.

That night, bottles later, the witch got dizzy and tipsy. At first, she almost fell into a sea of melancholy after she shared pieces of her with Zoro. She doesn't remember how, but he got her laughing way too easy with his remarks and some silly stories.

"You're flushed already," he pointed out back then.

"You're kinda rosy in the cheeks as well, swordsman."

At that time she damned the alcohol for the soft gaze she had when she looked at him. Her eyes were sparkling with adoration when they danced on his face, peace sinking in her very bones in his presence. She shouldn't have drank. It was so obvious that she had a soft spot for him, that he had a special place in her heart not even a month after they met.

And who was at fault for her drunken state that night? Roronoa Zoro, obviously. He was at fault when she giggled and talked too much about too many things at once, so much more passion in her words than usual — was that even possible? he thought to himself. She always had a light and warm way of talking, her voice many times giving away her feelings.

A promise was a promise, even if she didn't wholeheartedly accept it from the beginning. She surrendered quickly and told him that yes, she owes him something, maybe a secret.

The witch remembered everything the next day, but acted like her memory had faded. The realization hit her hard the next morning, when she figured out her irrational fear of sharing secrets. She shouldn't have made that promise, so she played dumb, as if the conversation they had was forgotten about.

"Maybe it's not exactly a secret, but I like it when you call me by my name."

Maybe he hears me.

"I didn't hear my name being spoken for a long time. It makes me emotional every time, with no exception."

You're a crybaby, he should've said.

Her hand fully settled on top of his while the witch continued to slowly rub her fingertips into his skin, trying to bring herself back to earth even if her thoughts were sailing through unfortunate memories.

"I wasn't called by my name for years after my father became a pirate," she continued the story that started during their drinking night. "He aimed to become an Admiral and he was part of the Navy Forces for half of his life. For a long time, he thought he could do better than his comrades and hoped he could change the corruption that took place in the Government and the Marines. Insane, right?" she let out a sour chuckle. "An Admiral becoming a pirate. Everyone called him insane."

Once again, she smiled at the faint memories of her father's warm smile. There were details she didn't mention that night on the deck, like the status of her father in the Navy.

"I didn't reach ten yet when he left. He considered it would've been dangerous to stay with us and, if I am to be honest, mom would've kicked him out of their home."

Their home, because that place was never her home.

"Calling me by my name would've meant he still has ties with me and someone might've taken advantage of that."

Nine years ago, the witch was a child who only learnt how to use a kitchen knife for cutting vegetables. That child has been stripped of her innocence a few years later.

"A few times a year he would visit me. He would hide from the Marines, while I would hide from my mom. I still remember how he was so much happier. He looked younger, like he was living his teenage years and not his thirties. Except for a few days I'd stay with him and his crew, he was roaming around the seas. He never judged a single soul, believing it wasn't his job to do so, even if he would protect anyone who needed help. He changed the meaning of a pirate in a good way."

She turned her head towards the window, watching the blue sky mingling with the sea and the port of Baratie where people were walking on the wooden battens.

"He was caught by the Marines while he visited me and killed in the center of the city," her voice lowered to a gentle whisper, just like the breeze coming from the open window and giving her goosebumps.

She remembers that moment all too clearly, eyebrows knitting together as she squeezed Zoro's hand lightly, hoping it would bring some comfort to her shattered heart.

A life that felt like an eternity already made her believe her name was like damnation for anyone who said it. A few syllables being spoken and you'd be cursed to die one way or another, since her mother refused to call by the name her father chose when she saw light for the first time. Her father and his crew were the only ones calling her name so dearly, with honey latched onto their voices, treating her like a daughter.

She was someone's daughter when she was with them. And now, by Luffy's side, she was someone's friend.

"I don't want to watch you die too," only then she looked at him again. "Don't die on me. Don't leave us alone."

There was determination in her tone, mingling with pain and sorrow. Half of her believed in him the same way she believed the sea was blue and that leaves were green. The other half drowned in anguish.

Zoro seemed almost serene, despite the small frown that never left his face. She took in a deep breath and moved her hand away from his, only to lean over and rest her elbows on her knees.

She needed some fresh air.

The witch got up and left the room in a hurry, before tears would've slipped down her cheeks. She pushed it all aside, holding it in, since there was no time to weep at anyone's grave. Zoro was still breathing, even if half dead.

He will get better. He had to.

She walked into the galley. Standing up in front of the table was Sanji, wearing only his white and blue checkered shirt, the black jacket suit abandoned on the armrest of the couch. He was cutting some vegetables, skillfully holding the knife.

On the cushions sat Luffy, cleaning Zoro's white sword, just like he said. Meanwhile, Usopp was the one to notice her first, leaning with his hands prompted onto the wooden table. Nami couldn't be spotted anywhere.

The sound of her own name almost made her flinch. The witch blinked quickly, looking at Usopp. Both Sanji and Luffy looked at her then. The latter had some deep puppy eyes — her heart aches at that look alone.

"How is he?"

"Unconscious," she breathed out softly.

She let out a sigh and ran her fingers through her hair, her eyebrows pulled together.

"I suppose you haven't eaten anything since yesterday," Sanji smiled gently. "Anything I could make for you?"

"I appreciate it, really, but I don't have an appetite," she dismissed him with a faint smile of her own.

"You could use some energy, you know," Usopp mumbled.

"You, Luffy? What would you like to eat?" Sanji got back to chopping the vegetables.

"I'm not hungry right now. You could make something for Zoro. He'll surely be hungry when he wakes up!"

Their captain still had hope bubbling in his chest and it was the only thing keeping them all afloat.

However, the witch couldn't bear to think about it anymore. She spotted her shirt hanging on a nail in the wall, close to the couch. With a quick gesture, she grabbed at it, intending to put it on herself until the heavy scent of blood filled her senses the second time that day—

The shirt was soaked in Zoro's blood from the time when she used it to stop the bleeding of his wound. Nausea crawled up her throat and she unintentionally dropped the piece of cloth when she became aware of the sickness settling deeply in the pitch of her stomach.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

With a hand covering her mouth, she rushed out of the galley, on the deck, the doors shutting harshly behind her. She leaned over the railing as the acidic taste made its way up her throat and on her tongue.

A disgusting sensation, truly.

She's seen blood before, she saw countless corpses laying at her feet, but nothing could compare with the vision of a dear person giving their last breath. She couldn't believe she vomited because of blood, such a normal occurrence in her life.

But it wasn't just any kind of blood — it was Zoro's and it sunk into the material of her own shirt.

She will have to throw it away. There's no way in hell she would manage to ever wear that again, even if it would be clean and smelling like lavender.

Tears clung to her eyelashes when she opened her eyes again, looking down into the sea. She was breathing heavily and she regretted swallowing her own saliva, as the awful taste lingered in her mouth unpleasantly.

Warm fingers touched her shoulder and before she saw whose hand it was, there was a glass of water being shoved towards her. When she glanced up, she saw the blonde waiter.

"Thank you, Sanji," she took the glass from his hand, sipping slowly as the gentle weight on her shoulder disappeared.

"If I knew such a beautiful lady was waiting for me to wake up, I would've opened my eyes much sooner."

The waiter — who could apparently also cook like a professional — said that in a somewhat flirtatious tone. Also, there was compassion lingering in his honeyed voice.

"If Zoro would hear you, he would've thrown you overboard."

Nami.

The witch didn't even notice her on the deck until that moment, her head snapping towards the navigator, her eyes sparkling with hope as she gripped at the glass in between her fingers. Nami was a few meters away from her, with her back facing the sea and her hands curled around the railing.

The witch has seen Nami's expression countless times when she looked in the mirror after a crying fit. The same bloodshot eyes and puffy eyes, the red tip of her nose and the husky voice.

"I don't remember you having sea sickness," Nami pried into her soul.

The witch looked towards the water at the bottom of her glass, ashamed of her own reaction.

"Because I don't have sea sickness," the witch whispered weakly, basically admitting her vulnerable state.

She was more than just thankful Sanji chose not to elaborate on the reason behind her reaction. There was still acid sitting on her tongue, even after she gulped down the last droplets of water from her glass.

"Where are you heading to?"

The witch noticed when Nami straightened her back and walked away, towards the dock.

"Maybe I can find another drink at the restaurant," Nami waved the back of her hand at the witch.

That sounded very familiar to a lie for some reason, but was it the witch's place to comment?

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Familiar fear made its way through her body, scratching underneath the skin, whispering in her ear like a mantra the same phrase her mother has always told her: "there's nothing you can do about it, so accept it."

Those words always unsettled the young witch deeply. She heard that voice everytime she hid in a room with the books her grandmother left behind, pages filled with tarot and palmistry, the promise of real magic, different from the fairy tales. It sounded and felt palpable, her eyes sparkling. Those books were her treasure, a future filled with freedom.

The same words were being shouted in her ears by the ghosts when her body stiffened in its spot. She wanted to scream while the man who was her father was dragged away by Marines, this time on the port of Baratie, not in her hometown.

The deafening yell she wanted to let out was silent. Her lips didn't even part and her awareness slipped away as she continued to see blood pooling at her father's feet, his signature royal blue coat painted in crimson. As if her vocal chords broke before she opened her mouth, no sound left her lips.

"He deserved it," sounded so clear in her ear, as if her mother stood right beside her, watching the same scene unfolding over and over again.

No, no, I can't let him die! I need to do something! Please, dad, you can't—

The man who stood proudly was dying, his body decomposing right before her eyes. A sickening view, as the skin melted off the meat, leaving only bones and tendons behind, covered by heavy clothes, two empty holes in his cranium instead of beautiful sparkling eyes. Blood dried on the white bones and sunk into the material of his coat and it flowed towards her, to the tips of her boots—

"Luffy! Arlong is here and he's after you, we have to leave now!"

The witch gasped loudly, her eyes snapping open. Nami, who just entered, was panting heavily, fingers gripping at the edge of the doorframe.

Who's Arlong?

She noticed Luffy who just got up from the chair he was sitting on, right by Zoro's side. Usopp had his fingers curled around one of the ropes holding the bed in the room hanging in the air.

There were no dead corpses around. Gosh, that nightmare was scary as hell. Her heart still drummed in her eardrums, blood rushing through her veins at an alarming pace.

She managed to get on her feet, her palm glued to the wall to support herself.

"Where do you think you're going, Luffy?"

Nami was panicked. Her fear grew steadily, just like fire, and she was on the edge of cussing out that entire bunch of confident idiots.

"We can't let Arlong hurt people just because of us. He might kill everyone if we don't step in."

Luffy was rarely so serious, but the situation asked for it. However, the navigator was anything but happy with his suicidal decision.

The witch turned her head towards the unconscious swordsman. She took in a deep breath, calming the waters threatening to destroy her mind. Then, her warm gaze raised back to the navigator who squeezed the map in between her trembling fingers.

"You'll stay here and protect the ship, Nami," Luffy smiled reassuringly. "I trust you."

The orange haired woman searched for a different reaction from the witch, but received the same determination.

"Have you all grown insane?" she whispered in horror.

The witch made slow steps towards her and engulfed her in a warm hug, wrapping her arms around the navigator's body. She squeezed her gently, resting her chin on Nami's shoulder.

"Something is troubling you greatly. Don't lie to me," the witch whispered in her ear softly. "You've got something in your head and you're pushing all of us away. We trust you, even if it'll bring us our death."

That's what scared Nami the most.

The witch parted just to look into Nami's troubled blue eyes.

"We'll be alright. We have to be. We'll figure it out together."

She had no clue how much Nami wanted to believe her, but it was impossible to do so. The navigator knew better what danger awaits them in Baratie now that Arlong appeared, that monster—.

Right. That's what pirates were: monsters. So why did the ones in front of her look like friends instead of demons stealing her life away?

The witch squeezed her shoulders and smiled so warmly, so calmly, different from the agitation they would face.

For one second only, Nami dared to believe. Then, it crumbled to her feet when Luffy and the witch left her room with one glance back at Zoro.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

The witch found herself in the restaurant once again. Her fingers gripped tightly at the gun she held, finding comfort in the familiar weight settled in her hand. On purpose, she stood behind the other three men, sharp eyes scanning her surroundings carefully. They were lucky they chose to enter from the first floor, since she could easily hide.

She wasn't hiding for the reasons some would think of. The witch intentionally stood on the side, analyzing the situation. First of all, she had to find the smallest opportunity to find a weak spot for that fishman. From her spot, still glued to the wall and hidden from everyone's eyes, she focuses on Luffy's conversation with Arlong.

"I expected someone… bigger," Arlong commented with a wide grin, sharp teeth on full display.

He could definitely be classified as scary, but the witch didn't want to admit that to herself. Was he dangerous? Of course.

"Me too," Luffy commented.

Alright, maybe Luffy had far more confidence than she thought, since he dared to make fun of that fishman, angering him. It wasn't enough that Luffy was hunted down by Arlong, he had to make him angry as well—

What was she scared of?

She took in a deep breath and a few seconds were enough for her heartbeat to beat at a normal pace. The witch didn't have enough time to worry about consequences, she had to find their weakness quickly and act on it.

While her focus slipped from them, Luffy was already walking down one of the two pairs of stairs meeting up at the first floor of the restaurant. Arlong threatened the straw hat about something and the first thing she heard was the deafening sound of a shotgun.

The same sound was followed by a soft chiming filling the silence.

Her chest tightened since no groan of pain could be heard from anyone. When she glanced at the people downstairs, she saw Zeff — the cook who stitched Zoro up — with a gun pointed at Arlong. However, the fishman only turned his head back and cocked an eyebrow at the cook.

The bullet was most probably what caused that chiming sound. It seemed like fishmen's scales were bulletproof.

Fucking great. Her long range fighting style wasn't to her advantage.

An ounce of fear uncomfortably gnawed at her courage. The witch hated that helpless sensation, as if there was no escape, as if that was her dead end.

Her fingers gripped tighter around her gun, until the skin turned yellow.

I can't chicken out now. I don't have the luxury of turning my back against a fight in such a critical situation.

She swallowed the lump in her throat after she bit so hard onto her lower lip she tasted copper on her tongue.

Everyone has a weakness, right? Fishmen must have one as well.

On the floor below, Luffy threw his stretchy arms at Arlong, with his hands curled into fists. Zeff was harshly thrown into a table that broke down, making Sanji jump into action as well. Usopp was the only one that remained upstairs, uselessly hiding behind the decorative wrought iron railing — he could be easily seen.

Crouching down to Usopp's level, the witch slowly walked towards him with the gun still in her hand. When his eyes fell on her, he blinked like a confused owl.

"Guns don't work!" he whisper-shouted at her, horror painting his features.

With a sigh, she grinned cheekily.

"Are you running, scaredy-cat?" she taunted him with an arched eyebrow.

"Are you insane?" he frowned when she was a few inches away from him. "You can't seriously believe your gun is gonna do any damage to those monsters."

Glancing down between the iron bars of the railing, the witch spotted other two fishmen getting up from their table. So there were three in total.

With an unusually serious tone, she stared into Usopp's eyes, determination oozing out of her.

"You can't run now, Usopp. I hope you're aware of that."

"Even you hesitated for a second!"

His nervous demeanor and his over-thinking habits got the best of him at that moment. He was equally scared and amazed by the witch's courage.

"That was before I realized there's no going back. Usopp," she lowered her tone, fingers gripping at his shirt to bring him down from the clouds. "If you choose to run away, you will never become a brave warrior of the seas. Do you hear yourself? We're not running anywhere. We have to fight if we don't want to leave Luffy and Sanji to deal with the fishmen on their own."

She wasn't exactly good at motivational speeches, but that seemed to shake his soul well enough.

"Now help me find out their soft spots so we can bring those idiots down before they destroy this entire restaurant and eat us alive."

Bullets couldn't penetrate their scales. She didn't know if blades could work any better either. Also, Arlong alone had the highest bounty in the East Blue, not his friends. He was most probably much stronger than them.

If she could bring down at least one of the other two fishman, it was also a win.

Then, an idea popped into her head.

Their eyes.

They didn't have anything protecting their eyes except for the fact that they were sunk into their faces. With her aim, she had a chance to shoot one of them. She had to take advantage of the fact that no one knew she was there and making a plan.

Taking in a deep breath, the witch placed the gun between the iron bars and aimed at the fishman with ridiculously big lips. She wasn't exactly that far away, but she had to concentrate. One single miss and everything would go down, since her presence would be obvious and her hand to hand fighting skills weren't that well developed against raw strength.

She waited patiently, Usopp still by her side. Once the fishman stood still, turned towards her, she pulled the trigger of her gun.

The bullet struck his eye and he groaned in pain, receiving a proud smile from the witch who quickly hid behind a table from upstairs, dragging Usopp with her. Her heartbeat was so fast in her ears it could leave her deaf.

She had to pull herself together.

"You've got good aim," Usopp's voice trembled.

"Thanks," she breathed out heavily, eyes closing for a second.

There was an entire tornado in her soul. The witch knew there was no place for running away, but she was equally aware of her disadvantage against fishmen who fight with their fists.

Zoro would've loved the thrill of this fight.

But he wasn't there to joke about her being a scared little lady.

And Nami wasn't there to yell into her face and tell her to wake the fuck up and help her find a better plan.

Before she had a chance to notice, Usopp was crawling down the stairs on the left once an idea popped into his head, or that was what the witch thought.

She felt a certain presence walking up the stairs on her right and her eyes widened. The other fishman spotted her.

"Here you were, wench," he spoke with a growl.

She didn't have enough time to scramble to her feet before a rough hand wrapped around her neck and lifted her up in the air, pushing her against the wall. She could barely even groan when her breathing was restricted by the awfully strong grip the fishman had on her throat.

Her gun fell from her hand and hit the floor with a weak sound.

Uselessly, her fingers grabbed at the muscled blue arm holding her up, feet a few inches away from the floor. Compared to him, her grip was weak, insignificant.

The witch was never the type to necessarily wish to live, but she certainly didn't want to die in that moment, when others' lives were hanging on a thread.

Also, she didn't want that ugly fucking fishman with big lips to be the last sight before she closed her eyes forever.

Dammit.

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xreaderbooks · 11 months

Text

Paradise on Earth (18)

Chapter: 18. The Cross

Pair: JJ Maybank x Routledge! Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, grave digging

Summary: All kinds of secrets are revealed in the island room

Links: Wattpad and AO3, Playlist

Chapter 17 - Series Masterlist - Navigation - Chapter 19

You had a headache. The events of last night had you tossing and turning. The illicit fight, the key is taken, you consoled Pope as best you could as he let his tears flow freely and the sobs wrack from his throat and into his crossed arms- you rubbed his back and let him rant. You feared he was close to his breaking point if he wasn’t already.

All of you had hardly slept, talking through the night about the new game plan- there was none- you were all sleeping in unintentional shifts, sprawled around the porch til daylight. You had all come to the conclusion that it was over, there was nothing left to be done even with Denmark Tanny’s diary.

The key was your only true lead.

That was until Sarah Cameron walked into your screened patio where you all lay like dead flies.

You whistled lowly at the sight of her, “Look what the cat dragged in.”

“Shouldn’t you be on Figure Eight with your little group of polo players?” John B taunted her. “Or did you break up with Topper?”

She smiled sarcastically at him, “We’re just friends.”

“It seems like you have a lot of friends, Sarah Cameron.” Your brother continued as she walked a little way from him between where JJ was leaning against the metal that attached the screen and Pope who was sitting on a recliner chair.

“Yeah, and it seems like you’ve got some of your own too,” She must have seen John B with the girl who had invited him to the bonfire. “I’m here for Pope.”

Pope gave her a confused face.

“I found the island room.”

The five of you instantly perked up, the words she had just spoken had revived you all with hope.

Immediately, the six of you hopped into the Twinkie and rode out to Tannyhill.

“Guys listen to this!” Pope calls for attention holding the stack of paper that were copies of the diary. “The diary says the cross holds the most holy relic in all of Christendom, the garment of the savior.”

“So wait, it’s saying there’s a holy garment inside the cross?” Kie peeks over his shoulder to look at the paper.

“Yeah, it says the garment is capable of healing the sick from any malady.”

That must be what Limberey was after this whole time, you thought, that delusional bitch.

“‘If only I may touch his garment, I shall be made well’" JJ quoted from who knows where. You side-eye him from your seat, the rest of your friends equally as bewildered by him. “What? I went to Sunday school.”

“That’s why Limberey is desperate to find it, she wants it to heal her,” You said. “What else does it say?”

“‘Many feel that we have sinned to steal such a sacred thing and God will strike his vengeance on us’” Pope recites.

“Thing is, God did have his vengeance...” Kie pursed her lips.

“He sent a hurricane to sink the ship, only Denmark survived,” Pope says solemnly.

~~~

Sarah directs you all around the mansion, guiding you all through several corridors to a room that you believe to remember is where Ward took his meetings. The room was completely different now, the fancy wallpaper was torn off, and a mural of a town was painted on the walls of the room.

“It’s the island room,” Sarah gave him a pleased smile. “It has to be.”

Pope walked into the room and written all over his features was pure awe “This has got to mean something.”

“This is a map of the whole island,” John B noted.

You take notice of historical Kildare Island landmarks, as do the others, they name the places the group has been to. Parcel 9, the lighthouse- JJ mentioned Rixon’s, and John B just pointed out the surf break at Mase. The boys determined that the drawing in Denmark's diary and his writing had matched that of the paintings on the wall.

“This has something to do with the key, right?” You ask, though at this point it was obvious it definitely did. You run your fingers across the torn edges of the wallpaper leftover and question Sarah, “How did you uncover it?”

“I didn’t, it was like this when I got home.”

“So then who did it?” Kie questions.

A voice came from the door you all had entered through not too long ago, you and the rest of the pogues jumped at the sound. It turned out to be Wheezie, she answered Kie, “It was the freaks.”

“What freaks are we talking about, Wheeze?” JJ recovered from being startled by her quicker than the rest of the group.

“That sick lady and her attack dog,” She said. You laughed at what she called Renfield, you sent the group an apologetic smile as Wheezie explained. “They showed up last night, and they wanted to talk to Rafe-”

“Pale blonde lady?”

“Crutches?”

“It’s gotta be Limberey.”

Pope, JJ, and Kie give out identifiers of the one person who could have known about this.

“What happened?” You asked, not wanting to wait any longer for the details.

“First, they searched the whole house looking for something, and then Rafe told me to go upstairs, but I didn’t wanna miss out so I listened through the grate, I heard Rafe show them this room and the paper ripping. They were talking about getting across the sand flamingo.”

“That’s code, that’s code for something!” JJ immediately theorized.

Pope dismissed him and clarified with Wheezie, “The cross of Santo Domingo?”

“Yeah that’s it, and they were talking about angels- a lot of angel talk, I don’t know.”

“Denmark’s famous last words!” You piece everything together. “He buried the real treasure at the foot of the angel.”

Pope snaps his finger, “We have to find the angel in the room!”

Everyone spreads out and starts to search for any sign of an angel, Wheezie said something that made you freeze, and a cold chill went down your spine.

“You know, I could never ask Rafe 'cause I know he’d be a dick about it but did you guys break up?” She spoke nonchalantly, “He’s been extra asshole-ish lately and I know there’s a lot going on-”

John B stood still, slowly turning his head to Wheezie. Sarah’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her head, “What did you just say?”

You couldn’t move, all thoughts of looking for the angel were gone, you could hear a pin drop in the room as everyone had stopped moving.

“Y/n and Rafe,” Her voice got quieter, just now realizing that she had said something she wasn’t supposed to. Heat rushed up from your neck to your cheeks, not from embarrassment but from shame, that same feeling you get when you're in elementary school and get sent into the principal's office you probably weren't in trouble but it felt like the end of the world. To make matters worse, she pulls out her phone and hands it to Sarah.

You didn’t want to know, you shut your eyes, this was a nightmare- it had to be some shitty nightmare that when you opened your eyes it would all be gone. Everyone was staring at the youngest Cameron’s phone, Kie looked disgusted, Pope couldn’t have hidden the betrayal on his face, and JJ… he was still upset with you so his current indifference toward you hadn’t changed.

“Guys-” You started.

“How could you?” John B practically shoved Wheezie’s phone in your face, you grabbed it and saw a picture, he tapped on it so they could see the date it was taken on the top. “How long?”

Your lips quivered, the tears welling in your eyes, “We weren't together.”

“And that’s supposed to make it better?” John B shouted at you. You flinched, John B hardly ever spoke to you like this, and if he did- you were right there with him. It stung, it felt like getting scolded by your favorite parent or favorite teacher who you never wanted to disappoint. John B was your brother, so fights were normal but it never felt like this.

You didn’t know what else to say, “I’m sorry.” It came out in a sob.

“He framed me for murder, Y/n, he jumps Pope like every other day with no regret!” John B mentions every way Rafe has wronged the group. “He almost killed his own sister!”

You look at the ceiling to stop any more tears from falling, but it was too late, when you blinked they fell. 3-4 at a time, came flooding out of your eyes, you took every word he yelled at you, you knew Kie and Pope had their own thoughts to chew you out but John B was giving it all to you that they didn’t need to.

“Hey, yo guys!” JJ called out to the group suddenly in front of a painting with a tree. “Come here, this humongous tree is still on Goat Island, you know what it’s called?”

John B is breathing heavily and still glaring at you as he walks over to JJ with a shake of his head, Pope glances over at you once- not meeting your eye.

“Angel Oak,” He responds.

JJ points to the center of the painting of the tree, “Look, there’s a keyhole. That means the cross is buried at the foot of the angel, that must be where he put it, we should go.”

Pope wastes no time rushing out of the room, the others going after him, you push Wheezies phone into her chest as you walk out.

“I didn’t know that you didn’t tell them!” She comes after you. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head but you couldn’t find it in yourself to reassure her with a smile, you settled for just telling her it didn’t matter. “They were gonna find out one way or another.”

Surprisingly, they were still waiting for you in the Twinkie the sliding door left open for you. No one would speak to you, which was fine- you found it better that way. Pope gave John B directions, the tree was past Freedman’s church, a long road surrounded by trees and wetland.

“Shit,” John B cursed. “Tide’s coming in.”

The path turned muddy, there were tracks already imprinted in the dirt that Pope had pointed out. JJ who was in the passenger seat asked John B if they should risk it, “It’s a little dicey.”

“Well, clearly they made it,” Kie stated.

“In a two-wheel drive?” JJ clicked his tongue. “I don’t know about that.”

“Why are y’all acting like you’re not gonna do it anyways?” You dared to quip. “Like when have you ever done the safe thing?”

John B turned his head to give you a quick once over and JJ gave him a downward smile and they both shrugged, you didn’t take this as a sign of being on good terms, simply giving them the fuel they needed to do what they needed to do with no hesitation.

You, Pope, Kie, and Sarah held onto whatever you could as JJ talked John B through the speed he needed to get through the land without getting stuck. At a distance that was deemed safe enough to park, the Twinkie was stopped and the group piled out to where the Angel Oak tree was.

JJ began to ramble about gators, you weren’t entirely sure if it was to diffuse the tension that hung around the group now but it was working. You walked behind the rest of them, Sarah and John B a little ahead of you talking- bickering- more like, amongst themselves until she let a tree branch smack him in the face.

You snickered to yourself which earned you a sharp glare from your brother.

“John B-”

“Not now, Y/n.”

You sighed and came up behind Sarah and Kie who were hidden behind the cover of tall bushes. You heard Limberey’s dreamy voice go on about the significance of the garment, one touch and she will be healed. By the sound of the sarcasm dripping from Renfield’s voice, he doubted it.

There was a crane that dug through the roots of the tree, handled by a hired construction worker. He hit something hard that was covered by soil, and Limberey ordered him to stop. Rafe and Renfield dug with their hands and lifted a casket.

The pogues impatiently stood by as they opened it with a crowbar, the woman’s face fell in disappointment, “We must have missed something.”

She grabs ahold of her crutches and shouts out her new plans to go back to the island room and how it wasn’t over.

The coast was clear once they packed everything up, Rafe got into his range rover, and the construction worker hauled the crane on the back of his truck that was rigged up with something to hold it, Limberey right behind them.

Pope came out of hiding, and ran straight for the casket, “Cecilia Tanny, Denmark’s wife.”

It was empty, only dusty bones left.

“He wasn’t talking about the cross, he buried her at the foot of the angel.”

“The true treasure,” Kie breathed out.

How tragic, your heart clenched at truly devastating it all was- romantic even for all the wrong reasons. “Denmark was hung for burying his wife and they defiled her grave,” Pope reached in, searching for something in her ashen bones- a necklace with her name.

Sarah found something herself, a ring, “This must be from Denmark, her wedding ring.” She and John B shared a look.

“We can’t leave her like this.”

“We won’t,” John B reassured Pope.

You worked together to reseal the top of the wooden casket with nails from a toolbox in the Twinkie, the boys lifted and gently placed her in her resting place, and you all pushed the dirt back over it. Placing fresh flowers from around the area, on top of the spot.

“I just don’t get it,” Pope announces, “He hides his gold so no one finds it for 170 years and then he sends a message to his son, Robert, to come here to his mother’s grave- but the message never gets to him. Denmark wanted him to find the cross, I know we’re in the right spot, it just feels like-”

“Like we missed something?” JJ was looking up at the tree. “Guys, come here.”

Kie climbs up on the roof of the van and then onto the thick tree branch with JJ. “That looks like the painting from the island room.”

“It’s worth a shot right?” JJ reaches into the tree hollow, “There’s something in here.”

He begins to scream as if something inside was tugging him, he struggled to pull his arm out, and the four of you that were still on the ground instantly go to help him. You call his name and start climbing the van to reach him but his shouts were stopped by his laughter.

“Asshole,” You hop down from halfway up the Twinkie.

“I got all of you,” He chortles. “Wait, but seriously there’s something in here.”

He pulls out something metallic and thick, tossing it down to Pope before jumping from the tree to the ground and taking it from him. “Give it to the captain,” He observes before elongating it, “It’s a spyglass.”

“There’s something on the end,” You point out. “An inscription right there.”

“You’ve come this far, do not falter, the cross is on the Freedman’s altar,” Pope reads. “Freedman’s altar… the cross is at the church!”

~~~

Your luck appeared to have run out, the tide had risen and the path that was already made muddy from the water became worse. The road was gone, and John B hit the brakes before warning everyone to brace themselves, he and JJ debated if the Twinkie would make it or not; it did not.

About halfway there, John B hydroplanes and the Twinkie is stuck in the mud. Pope suggests you all walk from where you're at but John B refused to leave the Twinkie when the tide was still coming in.

“I can take my dad’s truck,” Kie begrudgingly suggests.

“Are you sure?” Pope asks.

“How much worse can it get, you know?”

“We’re gonna need something to pull her out with, there’s the winch at the Chateau,” JJ mentions. “That’s like two miles.”

“If you’re gonna do it, just go-” John B declares.

“Can- Can I go with?” You waver when you ask. JJ searches your eyes and glances at Kie as if he’s asking her permission, you almost roll your eyes at the action. She shrugs and encourages you with a tilt of her head.

You’d much rather deal with the asshole who was already giving you shit and your best friend who you could already hear in your head reprimanding you than face your brother, his ex, and the person who had been wronged time and time again by the person you had a secret affair with.

The three of you trekked through muddy waters until you reached the part of the road that had been untouched by the tide, and walked into town with half-soaked pants. The mission to Kie’s house went quickly, she snuck into her parent's house to steal the keys to the truck while you and JJ crouched outside the picket fence.

“You alright?”

You considered the question JJ asked you, it took you by surprise to say the least, you thought he was still upset- he probably still was but he cared. It increased the pace of your heart, you nodded, you didn’t think you were at the level yet with him to actually talk like everything was all good.

Kie tossed the keys at JJ the moment she came back, you rushed to get into her dad’s truck as JJ turned the car on and you were off to your next stop.

“This’ll only take a sec, it’s in the surf shack,” JJ told you both, running out the door- tripping, and falling onto the ground. You winced, he picked himself up and continued running.

“Why’d you do it?” Kie interrogated you the moment it was just the two of you. “Why him? That’s seriously so messed up Y/n, he’s a fucking psychopath.”

You understood the anger, you could take the judgment from Sarah and John B, and the puppy dog glances full of hurt by Pope who couldn’t believe you would betray his friendship. You could even handle the shit JJ gave you for fucking the guy he cannot stand and would probably kill if ever given the chance, but Kie?

“I know, Kiara, I know he is- it just happened.”

“Like what the hell was going through your head, honestly?” Her tone was full of condescension, “That’s just another thing he could hold over you. Did you seriously think we wouldn’t find out? Or that you could keep this from us forever? I’m your best friend!”

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up!” You blurted out without being able to stop yourself. “I know, I know, I know! He’s a psychopath, he sent John B to jail, he fucked the group up too many times to count- he’s a shitty fucking person but he loved me!”

You didn’t want to believe the words that you had shouted at her, but you said it, it was out.

“He was there, and he is obviously toxic as hell but I saw something in him that I thought…” This was going to be embarrassing to admit. “I thought I could help him be better, he acted like he could be like he would- but I guess I was just desperate to think so because of all the bullshit he fed me when we were alone.”

Kie held a bewildered expression, but she openly listened.

“It happened once, it was sort of a long time coming with what we had going on but we weren’t in a relationship- I genuinely meant to help him be better. Clearly, I failed, and everything went to shit but there’s your explanation Kiara. I don’t need one more person- much less you, telling me that I’m fucked up for doing what I did when I’ve already had this conversation with myself too many times to count.”

She frowned and nodded, “I’m sorry.”

You felt like a small weight had been lifted, one down- four more to go. With perfect timing, JJ was walking back but with a taller older figure behind him. Luke. Since when was he out of jail?

Kie walked out of the truck, “No, Immediately no.”

“Just get in the truck, Y/n get in the front passenger,” He instructed as he put the tools needed in the trunk.

Without a word, you walked out of the back cabin and went into the passenger seat as Luke slid into your old seat. He winked at you with a smile, you shivered with disgust, Kie argued with JJ.

“Guys!” You yelled for their attention. “The Twinkie is sinking, what the hell are we doing?”

~~~

JJ made Kie stop at a corner store near the marina where he was to drop his dad off, you and Kie sent each other expressions of distaste as Luke sat in the back, he was just as ADHD as JJ. He tapped on the back of your seats, making as much noise as possible for attention that you and Kie were not giving him.

“You’re a terrible father, you know that?” Kie spoke.

“Preach it to me,” He leaned back into his seat, finally stopping his incessant noise.

“You don’t deserve him,” You chimed. “Not an inch of how amazing he is.”

“He’s a thief is what he is.”

Ire burned through you, you had millions of words to describe how you wanted Luke Maybank to rot in hell.

“And what are you?” Kie retorted. “You’re just a wasted local salt who never did shit but get messed up and hustle people, not exactly impressive.”

“You sound just like your mama,” He told Kie. “She was just like that in high school, always thought she was better than everybody else. Kook princess- and looky here, you're just like her slumming it with the bad boys, and the princess of pogues here pretending she won’t grow up to be trash just like her daddy.”

Kie snapped and elbowed Luke in his nose, knocking him back, “Don’t talk about my family.”

Pride surged in you, you wanted to laugh, you’ve been wanting to do that for years, and although it was Kie who got the satisfaction, watching it happen felt just as good. JJ came not a minute after, handing him a 6-pack of beer, and getting in the back with him.

~~~

JJ practically dragged Luke out of the truck, you called his dad's attention, and you and Kie had your middle fingers up. He went to react but JJ turned him around telling him to go. You and Kie giggled, calming down after a minute.

“You think he’ll be okay?” You worried over JJ dropping his dad off.

“He’ll pretend to be, for sure.”

“I’m gonna go check on him in a minute,” You told her with a frown, she gave you a half smile.

After a couple of minutes, you walked along the dock over to where he stood, watching the boat his dad drifted off in.

He saw you and immediately engulfed you in a hug, you didn’t have time to process before wrapping your arms around his middle. You whispered into your hair, “I’m sorry baby, I’m so sorry.”

You felt droplets fall onto your shoulder, your arm went underneath his aviator jacket and traced the line of his spine with light tickles. Who knows what his dad’s final words were to him, how hurt he must feel.

“JJ,” You took a small step back from his arms, cradling his face in your hands. “It’s okay, you're gonna be okay, we’re okay.”

He shook his head and pulled you back in, clutching you tighter, “I didn’t mean to snap on you. I was just scared I’d lose you to that kook."

He squeezed you after a minute, "You know you’re my girl right?”

You just let him hold you, and tell you sweet nothings if that’s what made him feel better, nodding along as he kissed your temple. He seemed to hold himself up as you walked back with his arm around your shoulders.

~~~

“Oh look, the three tortoises are back!” You heard Pope comment through the open window of the truck. “Where the hell were you guys?”

You observed the three you left behind, John B lay in a weird position on his right- grimacing.

“Luke was at the Chateau,” JJ reached into the pickup bed grabbing what was needed.

“Great, while you guys were there having family time, John B got bit by a gator!”

“What?” You went over to him and ran your eyes over his body to see where he got bit. You saw blood smeared on the side of the Twinkie.

“What the hell happened?” Kie exclaimed. Immediately getting shouted at by Sarah, John B, and Pope. “I don’t why I’m being yelled at, I put my ass on the line.”

“You’re being yelled at because it was 20 minutes!”

“We got here as fast as we could!” You defended Kie.

Pope sent you a furious look, “Let’s not start on what you’ve been up to while everybody’s been put through hell!”

Words were said, voices were raised, and everyone was agitated. The five of you verbally fought amongst yourselves until JJ called out at the top of his voice for you all to stop.

“Seriously guys, I can’t take it anymore, alright- everyone just cut it out for a second.” He chuckles, leaning against a tree to steady himself, “Look, I just helped my dad leave this island for good like he’s not ever coming back. He’s straight up like the Spanish- just ‘Bon Voyage’”

Not the right language, you and Kie gave each other puzzled looks but everyone stayed silent nonetheless.

“All we got and I know for a fact all I got is you guys, okay? You’re it” He stared directly at you as he said it. “I’ve come too close to losing you, all of you. So, this blaming each other is some kook-ass bullshit, we don’t do that, we’re Pogues. Sorry, that was a lot right now… I didn’t mean to.” His hands were on his hips and he avoided everyone’s gaze after his speech.

The group looked as though to be in agreement, giving JJ a round of applause.

“That was the best freaking speech I’ve ever heard,” John B praised. “Also, you should think about getting a Rosetta Stone because your Spanish and French are flip-flopped.” JJ flipped him off.

Sarah raised her hand, “We should bon voyage out of here.”

JJ and John B attached the Twinkie to the back of Kie’s dad's truck, hauling it out of the water in no time and the pogues were off to the church.

~~~

Birds fluttered away from the door the boys had forced open. The church had been abandoned, long long ago, vines had grown through the cracks in the floorboards and around the windows.

Pope insisted the cross was here, and JJ joked about there being a secret button around the piano.

“How about we find obvious clues?” John B advises, but there wasn’t much to look for.

“It’s not an escape room,” Kie rolled her eyes.

Pope was on the verge of a break when John B doubted the cross was in the church. “No, no. There’s no way he would set us up on a freaking goose chase that would lead us to a church that has nothing in it.”

“Yes, I get it, I don’t know what to tell you, man.”

“The clues led us here, the cross is in this church,” Pope slumped down a pew. He fiddled with the spyglass and looked through it, pointing it at the ceiling. With a conspiratorial gaze at the wooden beams supporting the roof, Pope climbed on the walls through the termite-eaten holes.

You, JJ, Kie, Sarah, and John B warned him about the dangers of climbing, but he wasn’t listening. He ignored all of you and knocked on all the beams to hear if one of them was hollow.

You noticed a bee hive above his head, “Pope, just move slow- there’s a hive.”

Sarah left and came back with a crowbar to help Pope who was tearing up the wood on one of the beams that turned out to be hollow with his hands. With the metal in his hand, he tore all the pieces til it revealed the golden cross.

Cheers went all around, Sarah and Kie brought you into a group hug, and John B and JJ had their arms around each other. Pope accidentally dropped the crowbar from excitement, the glory of victory of short-lived as bees swarmed Pope. He slipped, holding himself on the supporting beam, the group worked in unison to move the pews and find anything that could break Pope’s fall.

Just as he landed, the cross came down after him.

~~~

Chapter 19

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