Chapter Text
Percy awoke with a soft groan, rolling onto her side to try and shield herself from the sun streaming through the trees.
Wait, sun?
It took her a moment to remember what, exactly, had happened. And then, reality hit her like a truck, and she bolted upright, her eyes getting wider and wider as she took in the literal jungle surrounding her.
“So it wasn’t a dream?” she murmured, a bit at a loss.
She remembered the fear and the fall and the prayer she made—
“COME BACK HERE!!!”
She shuddered violently, shaking her head to rid herself of the echo, before focusing on her surroundings once more. Being alive could only mean that everything was real, because she most definitely shouldn’t have survived that fall.
And if she’d survived the fall, if a random deity out there really took pity and answered her prayer in full, then…
I’m in the world of One Piece, she thought, a bit numbingly. I have to be, right? Though, I suppose I should find out where and when…
As if on cue, her stomach rumbled, but she pushed down the familiar, painful twists of hunger and started walking. As she quickly breached the edge of the jungle, the breath was almost knocked out of her lungs.
It’s… so beautiful…
The sun shone brightly, making the sea below sparkle like diamonds, and the fresh breeze brought tears to her eyes. She unconsciously rubbed her wrists, still sore and wounded, and a wobbly smile graced her lips as a few tears rolled down her cheeks.
She was going to make the most of this second chance.
It took a little over a week for Percy to get used to her brand-new freedom. She’d found her way to a small village and had started renting a room in the singular inn located there, paying for it by helping out at the bar or doing odd jobs around. She didn’t have a lot of strength or stamina, but the innkeeper was quite happy to simply have another set of helping hands around to help clean the rooms or wash the dishes. The older woman also never questioned where she came from, only saying “we get a lot of strays around these parts” and leaving it at that.
It all felt like a dream, honestly – until Percy stumbled upon the docks, where a singular, all-too-familiar flag was flapping in the wind.
The Whitebeard Pirates are still going strong, she then realized. I need to find out how far along we are in the story.
After some asking around, Percy discovered that it had been 19 years since Gold Roger’s execution – meaning the original story hadn’t started yet. And so, with hope weighing heavily in her heart, Percy soon found her way in the mayor’s office.
“No.”
“Sir, I’m begging you—”
“We are under the protection of the Whitebeard Pirates. We trust them to keep us safe and, in return, they trust us not to abuse that privilege,” snapped the mayor. “They’re not mere errand boys we can simply call upon when we see fit! They entrusted us with a mean to contact them only for utmost emergencies!”
“But it is an emergency!” she pleaded, desperate.
“Girl—”
“Please!!! I know it’s difficult to understand and- and I know you have no reason to believe me, but Whitebeard and his crew are in danger!!!”
That was the wrong thing to say to a man who had the utmost faith in the Whitebeard Pirates’ strength – which wasn’t misplaced, of course, but still. Percy ended up kicked out despite her pleadings and, resigned, she started making her way back to the inn. As she passed by the docks, though, her eyes caught the flag hanging high, and her heart dropped a bit as a horrible idea crossed her mind.
If she burnt down that flag…
No, she stopped herself, quickly walking away. I’ll try something else first.
Percy ended up breaking into the Mayor’s office – which wasn’t exactly difficult, seeing as there was no protection whatsoever. Percy did feel bad about it, since it was clear that everyone in this village trusted each other implicitly and she was basically ruining that all on her own, but it was necessary.
Her heart beating fast, she pulled out the white snail with Whitebeard’s flag painted on the shell and, after one more moment of hesitation, she started a call. It took a few seconds, before someone finally picked up.
“Mayor Olsen? What’s up-yoi?”
“Marco the Phoenix,” she greeted, a bit breathless.
Oh thank goodness I got someone with a distinct speech pattern!
“… you’re not Mayor Olsen. Who’re you-yoi?”
“My- my name is Percy. And I’m contacting you because I have very important information I need to deliver directly to your Captain. You need to come, quickly!”
There was a sigh. “Look, kid, this snail isn’t for games. We’re busy pirates—”
“No, please, this is truly urgent—”
“I’m going to take this as a prank and not pursue it further, but don’t call again unless there’s really an emergency—”
“Damn it, if you care for your brothers’ lives, then you better come!” she snapped.
Without thinking, she hung up. She could feel a cold sweat running down her back, before shaking her head and carefully putting the snail back. Thankfully, it didn’t start ringing back, but…
I hope he takes me seriously, she thought, her guts churning.
As it turned out, Marco the Phoenix didn’t take threats to his brothers’ safety lightly – and he did, in fact, take her seriously. So seriously, in fact, that a mere two days later, the Moby Dick itself along with half the fleet showed up.
I’m dead, she thought, feeling a bit lightheaded as she watched them drop anchor, the Moby Dick dwarfing the entire village even though it was a bit far off from the shore. But hey, at least it’s for a good cause, right?
She slowly made her way down to the docks, where the entire village was quickly gathering to cheerfully greet their protectors. As she got closer, she could now see Mayor Olsen sweating heavily and discussing animatedly with the one and only Whitebeard, who’d seemingly seen fit to come himself.
He’s so fricking tall…!
“I understand the situation,” finally said Whitebeard, his voice immediately quieting down the entire crowd, which he then turned to face with narrowed eyes. “Tell me: where is the one who made the call? Where is this Percy?”
Murmurs immediately washed over the crowd – it’s not like Percy could go unnoticed in such a small village, after all, so they pretty much all knew who she was and, most importantly, where she was staying. Most were already pointing in direction of the inn as well, obviously eager to be of some help.
Well, I’ll spare them the trouble, I guess…
“I- I’m here!”
She tried not to flinch as all eyes immediately fell upon her, and the whispers grew louder. She could see the mayor about to pop a vein, obviously very angry. Whitebeard quirked a brow upon seeing her, obviously expecting something… more, while the few men accompanying him, including Marco the Phoenix, all eyed her suspiciously.
“Come here, lass.”
The crowd almost immediately parted and, bracing herself, Percy gathered all of her courage and quickly crossed the distance separating them. She only stopped once she reached him, standing a mere meter away and having to crane her neck all the way back in order to look him in the eyes properly. He was terrifying and could probably snap her neck with a single, backhanded smack, but she also knew him to be a good man. He’d at least hear what she had to say before passing judgement – though whether he believed her would be an entirely other matter.
“You’re the one who made that call?”
“I am,” she confirmed, sounding a lot braver than she really felt.
“And do you stand by what you said?”
She straightened her shoulders. “I do.”
“Eh.” After staring her down for a few seconds, he glanced to the mayor. “Mayor Olsen, may we borrow your office?”
“Of course, of course! Right this way!”
Letting out a small breath of relief, Percy tried her best to ignore the hostile glares from Whitebeard’s men as she followed their Captain and the mayor up to the public hall, where the mayor’s office was located. Quite frankly, it was a tight fit, but Whitebeard somehow managed to pass the door. As the mayor left, only Whitebeard, Marco and she were left in the room, and she gulped as she realized that it was crunch time.
“You went to great lengths to get me here,” mused Whitebeard. “Going even as far as to threaten my sons’ lives, I hear.”
“I- I didn’t threaten them!” she instantly refuted. “It was a warning!”
Marco scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Sure didn’t sound like it.”
“Do I look like I could hurt anyone? Honestly, I’d be more at risk of breaking my own wrist if I tried punching anyone,” she huffed, forcing her nerves down.
“Then why are we here, lass?” cut Whitebeard before Marco could reply. “We came all this way, so we might as well hear it. But know that if you wasted my time and threatened my sons’ lives for naught, I won’t be happy.”
“N- noted, sir.”
“Then?”
She took a deep breath, then decided to get right to it. “There’s a traitor in your midst.”
“You’re lying,” immediately snapped Marco.
“I’m not! Look, this is difficult to explain, but I- I kind of know the future, okay? And sometime this year, your cook, Thatch, is going to find a very powerful Devil Fruit! But one guy from the 2nd Division, Marshall D. Teach, will kill him for it!”
The mayor’s desk split open, and Percy slapped her hands over her ears, immediately recoiling and stumbling away. Her back hit the wall, and she slid down to the floor, trembling as she braced herself for the incoming pain.
After a few seconds of tensed silence, however… nothing happened.
“Oi. We’re not gonna hurt you, kid-yoi.”
She inhaled sharply, barely daring to look back toward them. Though they still looked angry, her intense reaction to Whitebeard breaking the desk had unexpectedly mollified them, if nothing else.
“… I’m not lying,” she finally bit out, forcing herself to calm down. “I know- I know you trust your crew implicitly, both of you. But Teach- Teach is a monster. And Thatch is going to die if you don’t do anything to stop him, and then- then Ace will go after him for vengeance and get captured and there’ll be a war to stop his execution and then- then Whitebeard will die trying to save him and Ace will die saving his little brother and—!”
Holy shit I can’t believe I blurted all that out what the hell am I doing…!
“Hey, hey! Kid, come on, snap out of it—hey! Percy!”
It took a few minutes for Percy to snap out of the panic attack which, quite frankly, had been a long time coming. Marco was unexpectedly helpful and, with a glass of cold water held in trembling hands, Percy eventually found the strength again to look Whitebeard in the eyes.
“I’ve seen terrible things,” she insisted, her throat tight. “And I know- I know you have no reason to believe me. But if you don’t, many people will get hurt, or worse. If- if there’s anything I can do so that you’ll at least give my words the benefit of the doubt, then—”
“I’ve heard enough.”
Her heart dropped, and her breathing immediately picked up. “No, please, sir—!”
“I don’t believe you. But, I don’t disbelieve you, either. Your eyes are too earnest for that,” he admitted, his expression softening just the slightest bit. “You obviously believe your own words, whether they’re true or not.”
“T- then…”
“Where are you from, lass?”
“I—what?” she blinked, a bit taken aback by the sudden turn of the conversation.
“Mayor Olsen explained that you’ve only arrived about two weeks ago. He said that you suddenly came out of the jungle, severely injured and malnourished, but that you only started causing a stir when you insisted he call us, before doing it yourself.”
“I…”
She didn’t want to lie. She’d read enough books to know that this type of lies always came back to bite characters in the ass. But at the same time, her story was even more ludicrous than the truth she was trying to share with them.
“… You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you,” she finally settled for saying. “But when my predictions come to pass, hopefully, you’ll be a bit more inclined to.”
“Hm. Fair enough. Marco, inform the nurses to prepare an extra bed in their quarters – Percy will be our guest until this mess has been sorted out.”
Percy’s eyes widened. “I- I’m coming with you?”
Whitebeard quirked a brow. “Like you said, lass, I don’t exactly trust you. At the very least, I can’t leave a clearly unstable person in a village under my protection.”
“That’s… fair, I suppose.”
“Good, then that’s settled. Go get your things and we’ll be going, then.”
She winced a bit as she rose to her feet. “A- actually, I don’t… have anything. I’ve only borrowed some stuff from the innkeeper, but I don’t have anything.”
Whitebeard and Marco exchanged a look, but didn’t say any more on the subject, and Percy let out a small sigh as she realized she wouldn’t be dying today, after all.