As Buggy waited for the good doctor to finish removing the final pieces of wood from his eyes, he sighed heavily. Holding them both at gunpoint was not the first step he’d wanted to take in finishing his business in Flevance.

He only planned on resorting to violence if absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, his plans didn’t take into consideration that the people of Flevance might not have the same sense of urgency as he did.

Thus, when met with the first sign of delay he chose the first option he could think of to get things moving along. It bothered him to have to waste all this time getting his eyes and Lilith’s leg fixed.

Personally, he blamed the people of Flevance. ‘What idiot decided that blinding everyone within ten miles of the fucking place was a good idea!?’ Though he did prefer being blind to having a heatstroke.

As hot as it was in Flevance, it would be more so had the town’s infrastructure been designed with a darker palette in mind. Since everyone knows, darker colors absorb more heat than lighter colors do.

Putting aside the town’s bothersome efficiency, Buggy focused on the matter at hand. “So…Dr. Trafalgar, was it?” The man nodded. “I’m looking for someone. A doctor I want to hire. Do you think you can help me out?”

“Considering that you have a literal gun to my head, I think I don’t have a choice. Who’re you looking for? What do they look like? What field of medicine are they in?” Is it anybody I know?

“I’m just looking for a doctor who can deliver a baby.” Jal let out a small breath of relief. No one in his family and none of his close friends were Obstetricians. But still, he felt sorry for the poor bastards he was about to name.

It was nothing personal. Simply survival.

“Oh, and I don’t want just any doctor. I need them to be the best in their field.” Jal raised an eyebrow. ‘That…certainly narrows down the list.’ He eyed Buggy for a moment, trying to get a measure of the man behind the gun.

He didn’t seem particularly violent. Ignoring the gun still in his hand and the fact that he’d threatened both him and his receptionist, of course.

Moving his gaze over to the hulking Fishman that sat in the corner of the room, who was looking relieved to have finally shed his outer layers, Jal decided that attempting to escape probably wasn’t the best idea.

His eyes then looked towards the floor where Rosie was, still unconscious and beginning to drool. Great. ‘At least one of us is having a nice time.’ He revisited the urge to sigh. Who knew how unstable Buggy could possibly be.

And with Jal’s shitty luck, a sigh would be the thing that would set him off.

“Well…there’s no way to tell who’s the ‘best’ in their field since the more experienced doctors I know have around the same level of skill.” As soon as the words left his mouth, the idea that maybe it would have been better if he’d given Buggy actual names crossed his mind.

Judging from the patient look on Buggy’s face, that was a definite ‘yes’.

With that he hastily followed up with, “But, there are two who I personally think outdo the others. Unfortunately, only one of them is on the island right now. And I’m almost certain he’s not going to want to help you because…he’s an ex-marine…and…”

Jal watched helplessly as the man’s expression seemed to grow darker with every word spoken. “…you’re a…pirate…and all…and…marines usually hate…pirates…more than…anything…”

‘Oh, dammit! Why do I always have to say the unnecessary things!? Why can’t I just make things easier on myself just this once. Ohh~ I’m going to end up getting myself killed because I couldn’t just say the necessary parts. F~uck my life…’

What Jal didn’t know was that Buggy cared less about how he said it than he did about what he’d said.

A doctor who both hates pirates and was once in the Marines wasn’t going to just help them out of the kindness of his heart. Especially if the doctor in question knew they were going to play a key role in saving both the lover and the child of the Pirate King of all people.

But he couldn’t afford to take anyone less skilled than the very best Flevance had to offer; and he could only take that one person in an effort to keep loose lips from quite literally sinking his ship because information traveled faster than one usually expected.

Buggy wouldn’t risk any more than one person, especially with who this person is, coming to Baterilla with them. Period.

Unfortunately, it looked as though it would have to be this Dr. Tolk person. And worse, he was more than likely going to go running to his friends the moment they let him go. Which begged the question,

What was Buggy going to do with him when that time came? The answer: Kill the doctor, of course. But that in and of itself creates a multitude of internal moral conflicts he’d rather not deal with at the moment.

‘Only one fucked up situation at a time, thank you very much.’

“Such fucking bullshit…” It angered him that the one time he truly needed things to go smoothly, the Universe decided to give him the runaround.

Rouge didn’t have time for Buggy to go find another doctor. There was no time to find someone else. They needed to leave as soon as possible. No, they needed to have already left the island. Much of their time having been wasted walking to Flevance and getting medical treatment.

Which means that Buggy was now going to do something that he was sure he’d come to regret.

Solomon raised an eyebrow at the less than enthusiastic response to Jal’s candidate list that consisted of what was basically the only person currently in Flevance who could help them. Jal, meanwhile, tried to soothe the irate Buggy with some good news.

Good news that would hopefully calm down the increasingly agitated man still very much pointing a gun at him.

“In any case, I think I’ve managed to get all the bits of wood and dirt out of your…eyes…and the sockets as well. And I’ve done my best to clean the area to prevent infection.” Buggy may have been immune to cuts, but he could still get seriously sick on occasion.

Bacterial infections included, this was more than likely one of those possible occasions.

It was sickening to Jal when Buggy explained to him how his Chop-Chop Fruit powers worked and then proceeded to take out both of his eyes with no issue whatsoever. Not to mention how shocked he’d been when the man took off his hood for the first time.

Not even Solomon managed to escape the disturbing sight of Buggy with no eyes in his head.

All Jal had to do was to cut them into small pieces, he made sure to numb the hell out of them just in case, and then wash them out with saline. It was a relatively simple task, and he was finished before too long.

“Good.” Silently, Buggy put his eyes back together and checked with his Observational to see if his eyes were clean of any foreign substances. They were. Not a hint of wood or dirt remained. And he could see again! “Great job doctor.”

He jumped up from his spot next to Lilith soon the table. She was resting much more comfortably now that her leg had been set by an actual doctor. He even wrapped it in a professional looking splint to keep it from moving around too much.

Though he had the feeling that her peaceful sleep had more to do with whatever medicine Jal had given her. It was a rather nasty break, after all.

Buggy placed a hand on Jal’s shoulder and flashed a friendly smile. “So…how about you take us to Dr. Tolk. You wouldn’t mind helping out a couple of friends, would you?”

As Jal awkwardly nodded his head, Solomon stood up and moved to grab Lilith. “Okay then! Lead the way. There’s no time to lose.” With that, Buggy put away the gun and gestured to the door.

Seeing that the doctor hadn’t moved, he sighed. “Well, come on. Let’s go.” But Jal merely furrowed his brows.

“Are you going to kill us?” Jal needed to know. He didn’t want to die not knowing that he was going to die. “If I bring you to Dr. Tolk, are you going to kill us? Are you going to kill him?” Momentarily ignoring the fact that he was still very much not in a position to demand answers, Jal pressed for an answer.

“Whether or not you come out of this alive, Dr. Trafalgar, is entirely up to you. Either you do as I’ve asked and take us to Dr. Tolk, or you don’t and face the consequences. It’s as simple as that.” Buggy then left without another word.

‘So that means…I really don’t have any other choice.’ Jal made to follow Buggy, only to find a large gray hand grab a hold of his shoulder and holding him in place. “You better bring her with us, doc.” He gestured at the girl. “We don’t need her running around town telling everyone about the two men who held her at gunpoint.”

Looking down at Rosie, Jal sighed. Looks like he was going to be the one to carry her. “Alright, Rosie. Let’s hope you weigh as little as it looks like you do.’ Wrapping an arm around her side and throwing one of her around his neck, he picked her up in a princess carry.

“Won’t it look suspicious if we walk out in broad daylight with an unconscious woman in my arms? Besides, it doesn’t take much to put two and two together that you and your friend aren’t exactly locals.”

The Fishman scoffed. “You’re acting as though we’ll be taking a nice walk through the park. You move fast and you don’t stop for anyone or anything. All you need to worry about is showing us the way.”

Walking out of the room, Solomon made sure to keep Jal within his line of sight. He didn’t trust that the doctor wouldn’t try and get someone on the street to help him.

Humans were tricky like that, in his opinion.

-

Dr. Arnon Tolk started his day like he did any other. Hungover.

From the moment he’d been forced into an early retirement, Arnon had done almost nothing but sit around the house and drink. And when he wasn’t drinking, he was treating patients and making money to buy more alcohol. It solved none of his problems but did make them go away if only for a little while.

Drinking helped him to forget why he was there in the first place. Though, it always felt like there wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to move past it. Only enough to dull the pain.

A betrayal by one’s student, a protégé who had been like the son he’d never had, was not something that was easily forgotten. Much to his dismay.

Usually, he woke up to the muffled sound of birds chirping, a headache the size of an island, and a horrible taste in his mouth. But this time, there was no crippling headache. The chirping birds seemed to be easier to hear. And the horrible taste in his mouth was replaced by something that tasted like…mint?

He opened his eyes ever so gently only to clench them shut as the sunlight poured in from an open window, a reflex from all those times he’d made that mistake after a night of drinking. ‘Ah!! Sonuvabitch! That-’ Seeking additional protection from the Sun’s light, he also pulled his blanket over his head and buried his face into his pillow.

‘…hurts?’ The light didn’t actually hurt as much as he instinctually anticipated it to. It was much more like a very mild and inconvenient kind of pressure rather than the sharp pain he’d spend the next five minutes agonizing over.

Nonetheless, he would carry on like nothing was different. Or rather, he would have liked to.

It took less than a second to realize that there was a much cooler side of the pillow his face could be on at that moment before he quickly flipped it. “Ahh. Much better.” He mumbled contently. Nothing beat the feeling of one’s face against a cool, soft pillow.

Putting pillow preferences aside, however, Arnon could’ve sworn that the windows that hadn’t been so much as looked at in well over a month, maybe even longer since he hated how high the temperatures in Flevance got around this time of year, were closed when he passed out the night before.

He sighed quietly to himself. He wasn’t as hungover as he often was when he woke up. Thus, his brain was free to make some semi-coherent observations.

Namely, if he didn’t open his window and was also suddenly missing the dreaded aftermath of an entire day dedicated to drinking then that meant…absolutely nothing to him. He was still very much confused and equally unwilling to face whoever it was that was waiting for him once he left the comfortable safety of his bed.

But one thing was certain. He wasn’t alone. The sound of heavy footsteps on the creaky wood above his bed proved that. And It didn’t matter how unwilling he was, as he would have to face them sooner or later. He’d rather it be ‘never’ but settled for ‘sooner’.

Slowly, he dug his hand into a slit in his mattress. After some searching he managed to grab the pistol he kept hidden. With luck, he wouldn’t need it for anything more than a reason for whoever it was, given that they weren’t who he prayed they weren’t, to back off.

As his finger lay comfortably on the trigger and his thumb cocked it right as a foot landed on a particularly squeaky floorboard, the footsteps stopped dead in their tracks.

It was unnerving to be sure, but also surprising since the sound of the ‘click’ should have been stifled by the mattress, the distance between the two floors, the door that he assumed was closed, and the fact that he’d done it right as one of those heavy steps landed.

He didn’t hear anything from up above for several minutes after that. Not a footstep or a floorboard or anything other than the sound of his now audibly beating heart.

Eventually, he tired of waiting and listening for something to happen. If they would not come to him then he would go to them. He’d also spent that time allowing his eyes to readjust to the light. It still bothered him, but not as much as it did when he first opened them.

In one fluid movement, Arnon threw off the blanket and the sheet, pushed himself out of bed and began to make his way towards the stairs.

No sooner had he placed his foot on the first step did a voice speak out to him from behind. “Good afternoon, Dr. Tolk. I trust you slept well.” He allowed the doctor to press the barrel of his gun against the center of his forehead.

Buggy had to consciously, and with sizable effort, stop himself from disarming and physically restraining the man.

Arnon eyed the stranger, taking note of his unique facial features first and foremost. ‘Other than the large nose, which looks like a birth defect of some kind, and the blue hair, he looks sort of…plain.’

‘If he had a regular sized nose that wasn’t red, and his hair was a normal color, maybe black or brown, I probably wouldn’t be able to pick him out of a large enough crowd…Maybe if he wore what he was wearing right now?’

But before he could continue that train of thought, he forced his attention back to the man standing before him. ‘He looks a little too calm for someone with a gun against his head.’

“Who are you? Why have you broken into my home? I’ll tell you right now, I don’t own anything that’s worth more than a couple of Berries. And if that’s not enough to get rid of you…maybe a bullet to the brain will.”

Buggy held up his hands placatingly.

“My name is Buggy. I’m looking for a doctor. A…baby delivering…doctor.”

Arnon furrowed his brows. “You mean an obstetrician?” Buggy pointedly ignored the sudden urge to go and throw himself off a cliff out of embarrassment and instead settled for gritting his teeth and simply nodding his head.

“Yes. Which is why I’ve come here to your lovely tr-” He almost said trash heap. He almost called the man’s house a fucking trash heap. Not technically a lie, considering it’s nothing short of the absolute truth, but not something you’d say to your future employee.

Especially one who was going to play a key part in keeping both Rouge and her baby safe.

But Buggy couldn’t help it. Who wouldn’t be repulsed by how this man lived? Trash. Everywhere! The smell alone was more than enough to almost send him back to the ship if only to never smell anything so foul ever again.

He’d made Jal place Rosie down under a tree about half a mile away from the house in question. Solomon was there with Lilith to keep an eye on her.

He may not have trusted Rosie not to go running and telling everyone who would listen about what had happened to her and Jal, but he’d be damned if he’d let anyone nonessential to his initial dealings with Dr. Tolk stay anywhere near the place.

He could only imagine the number of filthy germs and sicknesses lie in wait within the confines of Arnon’s “…home…”

The doctor raised an eyebrow. Arnon wasn’t sure what he’d expected the man to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. ‘A job? He broke into my house to offer me a job?’

After a few moments of silence, Arnon spoke. “Say I don’t believe you. What if I say no to your job offer? What if I were to just shoot you dead right now for breaking into my home and scaring me half to death?”

Buggy smiled. “Dr. Tolk, you misunderstand me. I have come here looking for an obstetrician. Not to ask if one will accompany me but to simply bring him back with me. Whether or not you wish to come willingly is of no importance to me.”

The gun was suddenly ripped away from Arnon’s hand by an unknown force. ‘Shit!’ Buggy carried on as if nothing happened. “So…let’s get you showered, dressed, and ready to go. We leave as soon as the Sun goes down.”

This was turning out to be an especially miserable day.

Had Arnon been a younger man, he might’ve tried to find a way to get away from the large nosed man. But he wasn’t a younger man anymore. He was an older man now with back problems, knee pain, and the tendency to fall asleep far more easily than he was comfortable with.

So, rather than try and immediately get out of it, he decided it was better for him to play along. Do his part until he finished whatever he was needed for and then try and escape with a better understanding of the situation.

Arnon may have only been a doctor when he was in the marines, but they trained him no differently than any other soldier.

As he walked past Buggy to get to the bathroom, his eyes widened. He hadn’t noticed it before, but the man smelled…familiar. Not in the way an animal recognizes the scent of another animal, but in the way where the combination of gunpower and brine reminded him of the marines he used to treat and the pirates they used to fight.

Closing the bathroom door, he wondered if the man who was now making his own way back up the stairs was someone in the marines looking to get their hands on him or just a pirate who was in need of a doctor.

And if he was honest with himself, he hoped to God that it was the latter.