It was a longer walk than either of them had expected. An entire hour just to get within sight of Flevance and then an extra twenty minutes of speed walking to get to the city’s limits. It was a pain in the ass for sure, but at least they were finally there.

Oddly enough, there were no guards or marines waiting for them at the gate. There were people coming in and going out using the main road, as opposed to the nonexistent one they used to get there, but that was about it.

Buggy wore his hood as he walked to the gate. He did not want people to get freaked out about the state his eyes were in. It was bad enough hearing their reactions to the giant Fishman carrying around what they thought to be a body wrapped in a jacket.

Though, to be fair, that was exactly how Solomon looked carrying around the still unconscious form of Lilith. It seemed that she wasn’t going to wake up anytime soon, either.

The two men walked through the gate, ignoring the growing whispers of the citizens and making their way to where Buggy’s Observational Haki had noticed the largest of the three hospitals that Flevance had.

“Solomon, I need you to take a good look at the people around us. Do they seem sick or in any way contagious?” Buggy waited as he looked around in every direction, studying each person as they walked by.

After a few moments of silence “Everybody looks…fine to me. You think maybe your friend was wrong about the-”

“What about their skin? Look carefully. No white patches or anything?” This was crucial. Lilith had mentioned that the afflicted individuals she saw had white patches that made them fall over in anguish.

Solomon shook his head, not that Buggy could see him doing so. “No, Buggy. They’re all” He wipes the sweat from his forehead with his free hand. “doing just fine. I think it’s safe to take off all these layers we’re wearing.”

“…you’re sure?” Solomon grunted. “Okay. But don’t take anything off until we get a better grasp of the situation at the hospital. I don’t want to find out there is an infectious disease the moment I take all this shit off.”

The walk to the hospital was short, thankfully, as the heat was making Solomon lightheaded. There was also the little matter of Lilith beginning to stir from her short nap. That by itself wouldn’t be a problem, but she still had a very much broken leg that needed to be tended to by an actual doctor.

As they walked into the hospital lobby, the two men sighed in relief as the Sun no longer bore down on them. But that was only a momentary distraction; a welcome one, but a distraction nonetheless.

“How’s it look? Anyone here showing any of the symptoms.” Solomon said nothing as he looked around. He saw a man with a nasty looking cut on his forehead and a woman clutching her side sitting side by side, another woman who looked as though she hadn’t slept in a few days, a nurse walking an elderly man out, and a family who seemed to be waiting for someone.

Not one of them had white patches or marks of any kind. ‘Thank God.’ Solomon breathed out in relief. ‘I can finally take all this shit off.’ Fishmen and heavy layers on a hot day did not go together.

“Just like I said. No one.” Buggy nodded his head before walking to where he sensed the reception desk to be. As he walked he kept his head down and his movements nonthreatening. Given how he was dressed and the weather outside, he’d be surprised if people didn’t see him as weird.

“Hello, how may I help you?” The woman at the counter sounded nice and not at all disturbed, at least not noticeably, by the oddly dressed trio that had just walked in. She didn’t even find Solomon’s size to be worth more effort than simply raising her eyebrows.

“My friend and I need a doctor. She’s broken her leg and I…want to show mine to the doctor personally.” The woman assumed that whatever the issue was, it was more than likely to have something to do with his face or head.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until they,” she gestured to the people in the waiting room. “get seen first. It shouldn’t be too long. Maybe two hours? Three at most.” Which wasn’t that long at all given how busy the hospital could get on other days.

She turned to her left to reach for the necessary forms form. On them, Buggy would need to fill out his and Lilith’s medical information. “But it might even be sooner depending on…how fast…Dr…Trafalgar…”

As she sat back up, forms in hand, she found herself staring down the barrel of a gun. “Sorry. I can’t wait that long. How about you take me to him instead.” The poor woman felt as though she could hardly breathe. “Right. Now.”

Slowly, she got up from her desk and walked towards the door. She tried her best not to make any sudden movements in fear of startling Buggy and causing the gun to accidentally go off. Not that Buggy would make such a rookie mistake.

Any time he held a gun, it was held without hesitation and without uncertainty. Though, nine times out of ten he would only use it to threaten and possibly maim. Rarely to kill. Aside from other pirates, at least.

Buggy turned to Solomon, who had watched on indifferently, and waved him over. Surprisingly, no one had even noticed the poor woman’s dilemma. Only the ever-watchful Solomon.

Though, it wasn’t as if those people were her only chance at living through this ordeal. She’d make it out alive. Slightly traumatized, maybe, but still very much alive.

-

Trafalgar D. Jal stood over the sink, cleaning the last of his dirty medical instruments and placing them neatly back on the tool tray. Smiling as he finished washing and drying the smallest scalpel in his collection, he turned towards the tray to place it with the others.

As he sets it down, he notices the receptionist, a young woman who had only recently gotten a job at the hospital, standing by the door. He smiled and gave her a questioning look.

The woman opened her mouth several times to say something, but the words seemed to just die off before she could get them out. Jal, thinking that she might just be shy around her new boss, broke the silence.

“What can I do for you, Rosie?” He waved her in.

Hesitantly, the receptionist now known as Rosie stepped into the room. As she started to move, she realized that once she was through the door, there would be a moment, a split second, when the gun was no longer aimed at her head.

Knowing that it was probably the only opportunity se would have to get away from the hooded gunman, she broke into a run the second her foot took that first step.

Aided by a level of agility that she would never be able to achieve without the copious amounts of adrenaline currently coursing through her, Rosie turned on her heel the moment she could and slammed the open door shut.

She locked it, to her dismay it was one of those flimsy knob locks that could easily be broken by hand, and then ran to hide behind Jal, who seemed to be confused and mildly concerned at her actions.

Had there been any windows, she would have likely jumped out in an attempt to escape from the man with the gun. But the hospital made sure to leave all examination rooms windowless as there had been one too many cases in the past where patients, mostly women, were spied on during examinations that required them to take off their clothes.

It was also the reason that the trees around the hospital were void of any branches and only planted in the front and back of the building.

“Wh-? Rosie, what’s going on?” He looked at the locked door and then at the trembling woman who was clutching his coat. “Why’d you lock the door?” Her only response was to tighten her hold and clench her eyes shut.

He frowned and as about to try and calm her down but was interrupted by the sound of the door knob shaking. His heart sank slightly, Rosie’s troubling behavior and the conveniently timed sound of someone trying to get in to the room without even knocking planted small seeds of paranoia in his mind.

‘Is someone after her? Why? Do they want to hurt her? Are they going to hurt me?’ His heart began to beat slightly faster. ‘Oh shit…Are they going hurt me?’ Faster and faster, stimulated by every thought and every concern flashing through his head.

‘What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?’ He looked around the room for something to defend themselves with. His eyes darted to the cabinets, closed, then to the containers on the counter filled with miscellaneous objects, all useless, and finally to the tray of instruments beside the sink.

‘Perfect.’ He could at least try to fight them if he got his hands on one of them.

His heart began pounding in his chest as the person on the other side of the door began to forcibly turn the knob all the way in one direction. The sound of metal twisting and wood snapping told him that whoever it was were close to getting in.

Rosie, now sobbing inconsolably into the fabric of Jal’s lab coat, tightens her grip further. ‘Okay…definitely not helping, Rosie.’

He moved as fast as he could with the terrified woman still holding on to him.

And just as he manages to grab hold of the largest of his surgical knives, the sound of the door being broken and then violently kicked in precedes the sound of Rosie screaming bloody murder and the metallic clang of the surgical knife dropping to the floor.

-

Rouge sat on the windowsill, reading one of the old books she’d found in her small hideaway. The title was mostly worn out, but she could still make out the words ‘R_i__ow _i_t’ It was an enjoyable respite from the situation she found herself in.

Though she had the feeling that even if what she was reading was captivating, the dark truths that lie in wait in the back of her mind would have managed to seep into her foremost thoughts anyways.

She wouldn’t lie to herself. Things were bad. Worse than she’d originally thought they would be. Hindsight had shown her just how foolish she was being in the months leading to Roger’s execution.

Too upset to do more than mourn for her husband, though she and Roger had never officially married, and lash out at others, Rouge had allowed her enemies to close in. And when the time came for her senses to finally return to her, it was far too late to run.

At least, it was until Shanks had appeared before her for the first time since their short meeting on the Oro Jackson. After all, he and Buggy saw her as Nakama. And you always do your damnedest to save your Nakama.

Whether they want you to or not. And up until she’d finally come to see reason, she did not.

But by then it was too late to leave. Too late to make the right decision for both her and her baby. Too late to have any chance of escaping her fate…

‘Our fate.’ She thought miserably. The tears were there but didn’t dare risk the journey down the sides of her face.

And so, aside from, and despite, the newly dubbed ‘Red-Haired’ Shanks and his small crew of two by her side, there was little she could do at this point that wouldn’t lead to eventual death.

Unfortunately, the other islanders were nothing to her. Sure, she’d grown up here, but Baterilla was a busy enough island that eventually the people she did know as a child became strangers she would hardly recognize.

Which meant the necessities were even harder to come by than they could have been. With so many factors working against her, she was surprised the stress of it all hadn’t yet forced her to give birth.

And as if that wasn’t enough, the encounter she’d had with the red-nosed boy several months earlier played back in her mind more often than she felt was fair.

Rarely did she regret anything as much as she did the conversation with Buggy. More specifically, the way she refused to even consider running away with him to safety. Rouge realized now that it was foolish to think that she could take on the full might of the Marines by herself.

Now in her right mind, she could understand perfectly the frustration and the disappointment Buggy had felt towards her that day. She’d felt the same way each time she passed by the bathroom mirror and caught a glimpse of her reflection.

Rouge closed the book and stared blankly out the window, watching as the birds in the trees glided around from branch to branch. She watched in particular interest, two birds fighting, she assumed they were fighting, over the same nest building material.

Not even the usually comforting thought that she was going to be a mother had given her any peace of mind as of late.

The simple truth was, Buggy had given her a way out and she outright refused to take it; going so far as to angrily try and hurt him and thus taking the first real step towards sealing her own fate.

Spending too long running from the truth and not enough time preparing herself to face it, Rouge would soon come learn that there was a price to be paid for her negligence.

A price that, to her, would be far worse than the miserable death she imagined at the hands of the Marines.