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Hongo knew that the men could be dolts sometimes, and he was the first to curse at them when they got reckless or weren’t careful. It didn’t mean that he wasn’t worrying when he had to care for more than scratches after a fight. Derek had almost gotten his arm cut off. It reminded him, as the Redhair Pirate’s doctor, too much of a memory he'd rather not relive. The arm was still attached to Derek’s shoulder, though, and would be functioning again. Because he had made it so, in an operation that had taken longer and had been more arduous than Doc had wanted or anticipated. Curse the stupid marines, and curse their selfless men, always jumping in front of an attack even when they could get hurt by it. But Doc knew he would do the same. Which was probably why Shanks usually told him to stay back and out of the fight. A shit doctor would he be, if he couldn’t care for the crew because he was injured.
His head was spinning, he was thirsty and hungry, the night was dark, and Derek thankfully asleep. He left the med-bay, and blinked when he saw a figure leaning against the wall, next to the door. His heart jumped in his chest, and he sighed.
“Lime,” Doc said, and he knew his voice sounded way too fond. Eyes found him, even though it was dark in the hall.
“Is he alright?” Lime asked, worried, and his gaze traveled up and down Hongo’s body, which he could clearly see, because for once Lime Juice had refrained from wearing his trusted sunglasses. He stopped at his face, and Doc knew the exhausted lines drawn into it were taken into account. The man was such a worrywart, but Doc loved him for it.
“He is sleeping, and will be alright, safe for scars. If he doesn’t overdo it the next four to six weeks, which I’m very sure Benn will knock into his head with force, if need be,” Doc explained, and an audible breath of relief left the man in front of him.
“Good,” Lime said, and pulled Doc close. Arms wrapped around his torso, and for a moment Doc fell into the embrace, then he reminded himself they were in the middle of a hall, where anyone could run into them.
“Lime,” he protested gently, even though he wanted nothing more than to enjoy the strength of the other man’s arms. Arms that could hold and protect and cherish.
“It’s after midnight,” Lime admonished, and didn’t let go. Instead, he simply pulled Doc closer. “No one will see us.”
Closing his eyes in defeat, Doc let the words wash away the worry. He was too exhausted to argue with the man he loved. Not after five long hours fighting against time and permanent damage. He had won, like he had promised himself he would always win, because Doc knew what it meant if he didn’t. Even if everyone, including Shanks himself, had told him it wasn’t his fault, and he couldn’t have changed the outcome of his captain losing his arm. Not even if it hadn’t been lost in the stomach of a giant big old ass sea monster. But he had wanted to…
“I can hear you thinking too loudly, sweetheart,” Lime whispered into Doc’s hair, and it made Doc laugh because by the seas, Lime was right.
“You should stop that,” Doc whispered back because he was weak, and he needed the intimacy after such a long operation. A hand was placed under his chin and lifted his head gently, before soft lips claimed his, and made him forget his own name. Which, for the record, he didn’t like anyway.
If only, Doc thought, they could share this love they had for each other in the open. The crew was family, he knew that and wouldn’t ever doubt it, but he had seen what small-minded people could do to things they didn’t understand. He had seen it way too often, before he had joined Shanks and found belonging. He was afraid, and not too proud to admit it, at least to himself and his love.
“Can you take me to bed?” Doc asked quietly, exhausted, and Lime smiled at him almost reverently.
“Not before I made you eat something, darling.” When his stomach growled, Doc knew that was probably for the best.
“I hate to see them hide their love in the shadows,” Shanks said with a sad waver in his voice Benn didn’t miss. He sighed, and watched the couple retreat, probably in the search of some food, if Doc’s stomach growl was anything to go by. Shanks had an impeccable timing, having known not only that the operation had been done, but also to wait around the corner, so the two men could have privacy.
“We’re not the best example,” Benn mused, but he knew what Shanks meant. They had only managed to confess their love to each other some three months ago. Both had loved each other for way longer than that, but being captain and first mate had held them back. Until… until Shanks had lost his arm, and Benn had cursed at him. Benn had cursed, he had cried and in the end, all that was left was their love. A love they didn’t intend to hide to their crew, but also wanted to enjoy for themselves at least for a little while, before they had a whole bunch of gossiping and yapping men all over them. It would be alright, Benn knew that because it always was. He had just thought it may be better to wait until Shanks’ arm was healed because the Marines would inevitably find out about their relationship, as well, once it was out in the open. To have another target on Shanks’ back, on top of a missing arm, and having to relearn sword fighting with his non-dominant hand, was nothing Benn wanted. Seeing Doc and Lime, however, made Benn wonder if maybe they shouldn’t wait. But it was a tale as old as time, or at least Benn felt like it was. Because their two blond commanders were hiding their relationship for years now.
“We can change that,” Shanks finally said, after he noticed Benn was back with him and not still deep in thought. His ever attentive captain. So often he didn’t seem like it, but Benn knew better. He pressed a lingering kiss on Shanks’ lips, and pulled the man close.
“You know,” Benn started, and pressed his nose into Shanks’ neck. The man smelled clean, and just a little of the soap he used. Shanks hummed, and tilted his head, so Benn could bury himself even deeper into the skin. “I think you’re right.”
A laugh that wasn’t his own vibrated through Benn’s body, transported up by his arms that circled Shanks’ body. “I’m always right, first mate of mine,” Shanks said amused. Benn only hummed. Most of the time, that was true.
Light, which filtered through the bull’s eye, woke him, and he blinked blearily against the sunshine. It was too early for any sane person to stand up, but Doc was neither a sane man nor a normal person. He was a pirate and a doctor, and he had a patient he needed to take care of. Even if he would love to just sleep in for once, enjoying the strong arms around his torso, maybe walking hand to hand into the galley and not fear disgusted eyes and judging stares. A small voice inside his head whispered the crew wouldn’t be like that, and if they were, the captain would probably throw the offending person overboard. But his fears went so deep - the scar on his face a reminder every single time he looked into the mirror - he couldn’t get out of his skin. A skin too tight and almost brittle, but still his own. With practised ease he made himself lose, and stood up.
He slipped into his clothes, and pulled his hair into his usual high ponytail in mere moments. Before Doc left, however, he turned back around, and looked at the sleeping form on the bed. Lime looked almost soft like this, with blond hair fanning around his head, and one eye twitching slightly. Doc would need to get him to take some magnesium pills, again. He shook his head over himself and his habit of always needing to improve one's health the moment he saw an opening to do so. He was a doctor, he couldn’t help himself.
“I love you so much, mi amor,” Doc whispered, leaned down, and pressed a soft kiss on Lime’s lips. The man had never pressured him to reveal their relationship. After endless needling and flirting and reassuring Doc, Lime had broken down his walls brick by slow brick, and he still did every single day. One day… one day Doc would proudly take his hand, kiss him in front of the whole crew, and not care about everyone else’s opinion … well, maybe he would care about Shanks’ and Benn’s opinion, still, but… he sighed. Nevermind. The last people on earth to judge him were his laid-back captain, or his ever-understanding first mate, right? Right?
He shut off his thoughts, and stepped out of Lime’s cabin. If he started those thoughts, it would only end in a panic attack, and he had better things to do. To care for Derek, for example… and Shanks would need a check-up on his stump, too. Well, wouldn’t that be fun to convince his captain of?
“That is your idea?” Benn asked incredulously, and didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. No matter for how long he knew his captain, and how much Benn thought he had figured him out, there were always instances that taught him better. This one for example. Benn decided to snort which swiftly turned into laughter. Oh by the seas. “You want to have Doc and Lime accidentally walk into us kissing?”
“You make it sound ridiculous,” Shanks pouted, and Benn couldn’t help himself, he leaned down and kissed that pout away. Shanks’ harumphed, but the silent protest was a little lost in the way he eagerly kissed back.
“I have a feeling, the only thing that creates, is a lot of gossip and uncomfortable mutterings,” Benn admitted, and sighed. Maybe it would help to have the two see Benn and Shanks share intimacy without repercussions. Maybe it would lead to them feeling more comfortable with their relationship in the open, if they could take their captain and first mate’s relationship as an example. Maybe… perhaps. Benn had no idea. He was smart, but he couldn’t predict the future, and he knew their doctor had grown up on a very, very conservative island. Hopefully Shanks was right, and it would not shock their doctor into unease. They would find out. With a grin he added, “but, if you insist.”
“You fiend,” Shanks laughed, his eyes sparkling. He pressed a single finger in Benns chest, accusing. “You make it sound like I’m the insane one, even though you like the idea as much as I do.”
“I just like not having to hide to kiss you anymore,” Benn said, eyes sparkling, and he reached for Shanks’ white shirt, to pull him close. With intent he directed his captain to the nearest wall, and gently crowded him against it. Shanks’ breath became shallow, and his pupils dilated.
“You better not,” Shanks said, and was interrupted by Benn kissing him. He was adamant enough to keep on speaking against Benn’s lips, though. “do - this.” His moan was swallowed by Benn’s hungry lips. “in front of- gods, Benn - the crew.”
Grinning against the lips, Benn cut off the kissing just long enough to say, “Wouldn’t dream of it. This sight’s only for me.”
Benn decided, though, should Shanks’ tactic not work, he better talk with Lime and Doc at least in a week's time or so. But that was something for future Benn to consider. Now he had a captain to kiss silly.
A knock sounded from outside into the med-bay, and Doc hummed loudly. His haki told him Lime stood in front of the door, and his heart jumped, before he reigned it in.
“Come in,” he said, and the door opened to reveal said blond, grinning, and with a tray in hand.
“How’s our favourite cannoneer?”
Lime’s voice was full of jest, and it instantly made Derek smile. “Better than I thought. Also, don’t let Mark hear that,” was answered, and Derek perked up, to see the contents of the tray. “Are those dried apricots?”
“Roo said they are good for blood regeneration. But don’t ask me whether he’s right,” Lime said, and placed the tray on a nearby table, next to the sick-bed. On it were scrambled eggs, toast, some beans, a bowl with what must be granola, and the mentioned dried apricots, as well as some coffee in a pot, and an empty mug.
The answer made Doc laugh. “He is insofar right, as in that they contain quite a bit of iron, for a fruit.” He added, as an afterthought. “Maybe he just wants to spoil you.”
“Hey,” Derek complained mock-indignantly. “Don’t badmouth my apricots.” He reached for the tray, and before Doc could even say anything, hissed painfully through his teeth because of the too fast move. “Fuck!”
“Damn you, take it slow,” Doc growled, already two big steps closer to the bed. His gaze locked on the bandages, but they thankfully stayed as white and clean as they were. A sigh escaped him, and Derek looked almost apologetically.
“Sorry, Doc. I’ll take more care, I promise.”
Before Doc could say something else, Lime interjected with a laugh. “Doc’s just a big worry-wart. Don’t mind him.” Lime slung an arm around Doc, and the next moment a big hand was in his hair, ruffling it, and hopelessly destroying his ponytail. Instead of being able to slip away sideways, the arm around his torso held Doc in place. He cursed, and punched Lime with his elbow into the ribs. It had the desired effect of making Derek laugh.
“Stop, you two. Still injured, remember?” Derek got out between wheezing breaths, holding his arm to not move it too much. Another knock interrupted their banter, and the presences outside couldn’t be mistaken. They were powerful and simply there.
“I hear laughter,” a familiar voice said, and the grin was audible in the way the words were spoken. “Have you decided to move the party to the med-bay?”
“Nah,” Lime called, and the door opened to reveal Shanks and - as usual - a step behind him, Benn. With mirth dancing in his eyes, Lime shoved Doc another time for good measure. “Just telling Doc to stop worrying, or else he gets grey hair.”
“I think that’s my job,” Benn commented deadpan. Only the way the edges of his mouth quirked up showed he was joking. It had taken a while for Doc to figure out Benn’s dry humor, but by now he was well accustomed to it. He watched how Shanks turned and eyed his first mate critically. Then he shook his head rigorously.
“Nope, not allowed. Your black hair is way too beautiful.”
Everyone exploded into laughter, especially when Benn rolled his eyes quite more visibly than it should be allowed for a normal human. But he had practice with a captain as insane as Shanks. Not that anyone on the Red Force would ever want that to change. When their laughter died down, Shanks turned to Derek, and something in his expression shifted. Doc knew that now the person in front of him was his captain, the person who was responsible for their whole crew.
“How are you feeling?” Shanks asked, and Derek shrugged, which made him wince a little.
“Good. As long as I remember not to do that again.” A grin slipped over Derek’s face, and Doc could watch how Shanks raised an eyebrow.
“And now without trying to make light of the situation?” Shanks didn’t sound stern, and yet goosebumps appeared on Doc’s arm. There was something in their captain’s voice that didn’t allow a lie. Not that anyone in here had any intention to lie to Shanks. It was just - and Doc was well aware of that - that this crew was bad at admitting how worse an injury was. Being confined to the med-bay meant not being able to help with ship duties, meant for most of them feeling like a burden, even if no one of the men ever would blame them or even think of an injured comrade as a burden.
“Ah, well…,” Derek murmured, and slumped into himself. “It hurts like hell, especially if I move my arm too fast, but it is manageable. I’m sure it will be better in a few days.”
Doc furrowed his brow. “I can get you some more painkillers.”
“Yeah, I know,” Derek said, and the unsaid ‘but’ was loud. Something neither Shanks nor Benn would let stand unaddressed. This time it was Benn who spoke up.
“There is no shame in taking something against your pain.”
It made Derek huff. “But they make me so nauseous, and I was quite looking forward to eating breakfast.” His gaze slipped towards the tray longingly. Poor man.
“Why didn’t you tell me the painkillers make you nauseous?” Doc asked, trying to keep the accusation out of his voice. If Derek had been nauseous, it was his fault for not asking about it. He was his doctor after all, and he actually should have asked. It was just that he sometimes relied too much on thinking he knew his crewmembers. Hearing this reminded him there was always space for improvement. “I can change the formula, or we can try to give you some anti-sickness pills.”
Derek’s expression lit up hearing the words. “That works?” he asked, and it made Doc shake his head.
“Of course. You don’t have to choose between eating and being in pain.”
“Oh,” Derek said, and grinned. “Great.”
These men, seriously. It seemed Benn thought the same because he rolled his eyes. Shanks chuckled a little bit, and to hear his captain laugh eased quite the bit of tension in the room. “Give me the verdict, Doc?” Shanks asked, while Benn looked from Doc to the tray and back, with a question in his eyes. Doc nodded, and started to give a diagnosis.
“It was quite the deep cut, but thankfully very clean, and I could start the operation fast enough that nothing got infected, and everything will heal nicely. No strenuous work for the next four to six weeks, no training or fighting for at least eight weeks, ten would be better. He should stay in for at least today and tomorrow, then check-ups every two days for the first two weeks, once a week after that,” Doc explained, while he watched Benn fill the mug with coffee. He gave it over to Derek without a word, who took it with a thankful smile. The plate with the eggs and bread was next, placed carefully on Derek’s lap, so he could finally eat, after he hadn’t since yesterday morning, probably. Benn was a treasure like that, his devotion to the crew usually shown through careful action rather than words.
“Sounds reasonable,” Benn said, and gave Derek a warning look. “Don’t let me find you anywhere close to the cannons the next few weeks, you hear me?”
“Aye, Benn,” Derek answered, even though a small pout showed on his face. Which was both something he very likely had picked up from Shanks, and showed why Benn had to say it.
“Good,” Benn said. He turned to Doc. “Thank you!”
The sincerity in Benn’s words was mirrored in Shanks’ thankful gaze, and even after so many years as their doctor, the gratefulness of his two superiors for simply doing his job still took Doc’s breath away. He smiled, heart warm and full.
“Course,” he murmured, and looked at Shanks. At Shanks and his stump… Shanks’ mouth opened, when he realized what would probably come out of his doctor’s mouth, but Doc didn’t let him. “Nope. No chickening away, capt’n. I need to change them.”
“Do you have to?” Shanks whined, and as fast as the role of the captain had come, it was gone again. With big, round, unfairly effective, puppy dog eyes he looked at Doc, who closed his own, simply to not have the gaze be directed at him.
“Yes, I have to,” Doc said, collecting his strength and his wits… and his nerves probably too.
“But… but, Doc,” Shanks pouted, and Doc blinked very hard, because nope. He had given in last week, he wouldn’t give in now. Shanks didn’t seem to care about that, because now he turned to Benn, even though he should know Benn was immune to Shanks’ puppy dog eyes. Not that Doc had any idea how Benn did it. He wished he possessed that strength.
“Benn, help me?” Shanks asked, looking at his first mate almost pleadingly sweet. Out of the corners of his eyes Doc saw Lime smirk devilishly. Bastard, he didn’t have to deal with their captain and his antics on a regular basis because said captain hated to have his bandages changed. Even after months of treatment he was always the same. If he was so reluctant about letting his doctor care for him, Shanks should have thought better than letting a fucking sea monster eat his arm. Not that Doc would have wanted anything to happen to Luffy… he just knew Shanks had done it because of the damned tattoo, fucking morron. Doc would have found a way to remove it, had he been given a little more time. One regret he would always carry, if Shanks liked it or not.
His attention was drawn back to his superior duo, when Benn instead of telling Shanks off, like he usually did, reached for said man’s chin and lifted it up. His gaze was almost burningly intense, the way he looked into Shanks’ face, and deliberately drew him closer. “Fine,” Benn said, grinning, and placed quite the lingering kiss on Shanks’ lips. “Hope this is distracting enough.” He turned to Doc, who didn’t quite know where he should look or not look at. What the fuck…? Since, why, how? Benn only smirked. “I would get on with changing the bandages now, Doc, as long as he’s too distracted to complain.” With those words Benn chuckled, and even dared to wink at Doc, before he turned and left the room. Shanks was still in a daze, looking at nothing… which, damn that man, did help to arrange him so Doc could change the bandages in minutes. The last time it had taken him half an hour of arguing, and another half an hour actually doing the task.
Yet, even after hours had passed, the way Benn had kissed Shanks, so openly and unashamed, wouldn’t leave his mind. He wondered if there had been more behind that kiss than simple… yes simple what? That hadn’t looked, hadn’t felt like jest. Doc was sure he knew how to differentiate between jest and serious affection. But the kiss had been more… It had been how Doc wanted to kiss Lime, everyday, in front of others, always. Unashamed, openly, without fear of repercussion. But… Shanks and Benn? Their captain and first mate, together? That couldn’t be. Or could it? And if it could be, what did that mean for him and Lime?
He was going insane. Doc didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t, anymore. If he didn’t care so much, it wouldn’t be a problem, but he hadn’t even had the time to talk with Lime about it because between caring for Derek, and Lime having to do the night shift on the crow’s nest, there wasn’t much space or time to talk. He was going insane, and why, for the love of everything that was holy on the Grandline, was Doc always running into Shanks and Benn sharing intimacy? When had the two of them become more than captain and first mate? More than friends? More than… well, yes, gods, Doc knew they were partners, but since when were they these kinds of partners?
Was he the only one seeing them in the hallways, embracing, laughing, kissing, or did the rest of the crew see them, too? And if the others did, too, why was no one saying anything? Because if someone finally said something, maybe Doc could simply take Lime’s hand, and do the fucking same as his superiors. Like he so desperately wanted to. No one would blink an eye at them, if they had to focus on Shanks and Benn, right?
Doc didn’t think anyone on the Red Force minded a homosexual relationship. They were pirates after all. These were the men he called friends, called family. Shanks would throw everyone overboard who couldn’t deal with his lifestyle, and if Shanks’ lifestyle was Benn, then by all the five seas, anyone daring to say something better knew that Shanks would always pick Benn. That was not the problem!
The problem was - quite frankly - that Doc couldn’t confirm any of what his brain threw at him because no one was saying anything. If even Shanks and Benn hid their relationship, and Doc was just unlucky enough to have found out - not that he minded, he would be quite the hypocrite if he did - how should he ever dare pull his own into the open? He was very used to kissing Lime only in the shadows or under the cover of night, and if that was his fate, then so be it, Lime was worth it, but damnit, he wanted to fucking stop, and not hide anymore, and why was everything so fucking hard? Why was everything such a clusterfuck, and why could he not be brave enough to face his fears, face his past, face the voices that called him an abomination, a sinner, a monster. Why could he not fight against the mouths that spit at him, the feet that kicked him, the hands that threw stones? Why would he let others call him by his name, like it was a curse, like he was a mistake and shouldn’t have been born, like it was against nature who he loved when loving was all he ever wanted to do? He had become a doctor because he wanted to help people, because it felt right, because he had so much in himself to give, to care, to love, but he himself wasn’t allowed to love because who he loved had the wrong sex? That couldn’t be right, but no one was saying it wasn’t right, so could he even doubt? Why was thinking so hard, and breathing even harder, and -
“Doc! Doc, look at me,” someone said, and was he sure he had the right person?
“Doc?” Someone shook his shoulders, and Doc flinched, felt the blow already coming, even if nothing ever came.
“Fuck. Someone get the Boss and Benn.”
Why did they need the Boss and Benn? Surely they had better things to do than stand in a random hallway, and look at him sitting on the floor, head between his legs, and trying to breathe. Why was breathing so fucking hard? He was hyperventilating, wasn’t he? He should stop that. Hyperventilating wasn’t good for the lungs, for the body, it was not - he was a doctor, wasn’t he? He should know hyperventilating wasn’t a good thing to do.
“No need, we’re here,” a voice said, and it was calm, focused, very much everything Doc was not. Which just showed what a fucking joke he was.
“Yasopp, get Lime from the crow’s nest, please, and tell Mark, he needs to do his shift. He’ll get tomorrow off instead,” another voice ordered, and Doc knew this voice. He would follow every order that voice told him because it had never led him astray before. But it wasn’t talking to him, so he didn’t move, didn’t react, didn’t stop keeping his head between his legs, and panting.
Footsteps sounded, hurried away. Others came closer, but he didn’t pay them any mind, couldn’t pay them any mind. Maybe if he shielded his head it wouldn’t hurt as much? Having stones thrown at him, having feet kick his sides, having wounds from cuts could heal, as long as he shielded his head. His body could endure, but he needed his brain, needed to keep them off his eyes and face, and a concussion was the last thing he wanted, needed, when there was still Derek in the med-bay, and Shanks with a stump, and -
“Doc, listen to my words,” the voice ordered, and even though he had pulled his head down between his legs, and his hands over his ears, he was unable to not do what the voice told him. “I’m going to touch you. I will pull your hands away because you are pressing your fingernails into your skull. I want you to not fight me. Can you do that?”
Doc whimpered, but he nodded, and soft, so softly, fingers wrapped around his wrist. Only one wrist because the voice didn’t have two hands anymore. Which was his fault, slipped through his mind as a devilish little thought. No. No. Shanks had said. Shanks had said! No. He whimpered again.
“Whatever it is you’re thinking, it is not true. I swore to protect you, and I promise I will protect you from this, too. I’m here, Doc. Benn is next to me. Lime is on his way. You’re not alone. You’re safe. I’ll always keep you safe,” the voice said, and slowly, very slowly pulled him back to reality. When Shanks said he would keep him safe, who was Doc to think otherwise? The hand that had pulled one wrist off his head now reached for the other and did the same. Always gently, never hurting, but with a firm enough grip that Doc couldn’t find the strength inside him to fight it. Fighting Shanks was not only useless, but very silly, considering that Shanks had sworn to fight for him a long time ago.
“That’s it, I’m here. Can you lift your head?” Shanks asked, and even though Doc wanted to, the voices inside his head were still too loud, telling him the moment he would stop protecting himself, it would hurt. He shook his head between his legs, even though it felt awkward and strange.
Footsteps sounded hastily, and in a pattern that was only a breath away from running. They came closer, and …
“Oh, honey,” another voice said, and this time Doc’s head snapped up, because if Lime was here, they would- they… no. Not him. Not Lime. Not his love, his heart, the man who meant everything to him.
Warm arms wrapped around him, pulled him close, and a scent so familiar it clenched something inside of him made its way to his nostrils. Unbidden tears sprung to his eyes, and he shouldn’t, shouldn’t really let anyone see, because … he couldn’t. He cried, and the arms around his shoulders pulled him close, and when after long, long moments still no punch, no kicks, no stones came, Doc realized maybe Shanks had been right, and he really was safe.
“I’m sorry,” he got out, between choked up tears and ugly crying. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m s-”
“Hush, sweetheart. It’s not your fault,” Lime whispered into his hair. Lingering kisses were pressed onto his scalp, on his temple. It should scare him, to be visible, to be so in the open, but Doc tried to focus his panicked mind on the touch rather than what it revealed.
“Doc, can you stand?” someone - no, not someone, but Benn - asked. “We should get you out of the hallway.”
Could he stand? He really, really had no idea. He wanted to stay small, to roll into a ball, and make himself invisible, so no one would notice what lay underneath his skin. But he had grown too big, his heart was too full, and he wanted to be able to show Lime how much he loved him, every day, every moment, even in front of others. If only…
“I got you,” Lime murmured, and then gently arranged him in his grip. A moment later, hands were under his legs and shoulders, and he was hoisted up. Doc let out a startled breath, but pressed his face into Lime’s strong chest when he realized he was safe. Always safe in those arms. Soft words were murmured into his hair, of reassurance and love, before Lime asked, “Where to?”
“Our cabin,” Shanks said, and a small voice wondered, whispered, at the edge of his mind, since when was it our cabin?
It pained Shanks to see Doc in such a state of distress. He knew his doctor was prone to panic attacks, but it had been years since he had had one. Shanks hadn’t thought simply seeing him and Benn kiss would throw him into another. Heavy guilt hung around his heart, realizing it was probably his fault. What a stupid idea, to expose Doc in such a way, when Shanks knew he had grown up on a conservative island. But honestly, it felt like it was more than that.
His gaze found Benn’s as they walked towards the cabin. Benn had his own, but honestly he was mostly sleeping in Shanks’ bed these days anyway. They had talked about rearranging Shanks’ cabin to make Benn’s stuff fit, so they had another free room for their ever growing crew. Well, maybe Lime and Doc would want it, after this talk. Shanks had no intention of letting them go without being sure they understood they had the full support of their captain and first mate. Benn’s room was bigger than either of his two commanders' rooms, as well.
Benn had a frown on his face, and when Shanks’ gaze found him, his lips pressed together into a line. Shanks understood the sentiment without needing to hear it. He opened the door to his cabin, and let the others in. Doc’s face was still hidden in Lime’s chest, his body wracked with tremors.
“Sit,” Shanks said quietly, and nodded towards his bed. He watched Lime sit down, scooting backwards so he had enough space to gently balance Doc in his lap. Shanks took one chair from his desk to sit, and Benn simply decided to stand behind him.
“Sweetheart. My love. We’re in the captain’s cabin, and we’re alone except for Shanks and Benn. Can you look at me?” Lime whispered into Doc’s hair, and it felt almost too intimate to watch. Lime was gentle, caring, loving, stroking over Doc’s back with soft hands and never let go. In another situation Shanks would have told Benn to let the two be, but he knew they needed to talk.
Lime shot them a look, worry etched into his face. Benn rounded the chair and sank down, squatting, so he was at the same height Doc and Lime were. Benn’s back blocked most of Shanks’ view, but he didn’t need to see to understand Benn’s words. They were calm, clear and so, so gentle.
“Hongo,” Benn said, and the name sounded fond on Benn’s lips. A name all of them very rarely used because Doc had once asked them not to. That Benn did it now was very deliberate. “I know the voices in your mind are cruel and nasty, but they are liars. Whatever they threaten you with, remember that Shanks and I are stronger than any threat. When you joined our crew, we vowed to protect you from harm. Has Shanks ever broken his promise? Have I ever let you run into danger without a backup plan?”
A soft and choked up chuckle sounded through the room, and slowly, very slowly, did Doc turn his head towards Benn. Shanks let out a soundless breath of relief, seeing the movement.
“Only one back-up plan?” Doc said, voice still a little shaky, but it became stronger with every single word he said. “You usually have more.”
Benn lifted his hand, probably to push a strand out of Doc’s face or a stray tear. Whatever it was, after he retreated his hand, he stood back up. “As much as I need to keep everyone safe.” With those words Benn returned to Shanks, and this time he snatched himself a chair to sit, as well.
Slowly Doc unfolded from the way he had curled up against Lime. When he wanted to get off the other man’s lap, however, the arms around his torso didn’t let him. Shanks saw how Doc stared at his partner, but he was only embraced tighter. Lime huffed.
“You think I let you go after you had a panic attack? Think again, sweetheart.”
“But,” Doc murmured, and then grimaced when Lime looked at him with judging eyes.
“If hiding us is what you want to do, honey, I have to inform you, I’m very sure it’s too late for that. The capt’n send for me specifically, so I’m very certain they both know. Otherwise we wouldn’t be here.”
Doc whimpered. Shanks let out a huff, that was a little amused and a little shocked. He wasn’t quite so sure what to think of being called out so bluntly, but well, Lime was right. They did know, and they were here to talk about it. So…
“It’s still a ship,” Shanks said ruefully, and grinned lopsidedly. Next to him Benn sighed.
“Doc,” Benn said with the same gentle voice he had used earlier to pull their doctor out of his panic. “Yes, we know about your relationship with Lime, and we do not mind! We never minded.”
“Actually,” Shanks injected, because that needed to be said, and he was very sure Doc needed to hear it. “We are very happy for you.” He stopped to take a breath, and when he exhaled, something shifted. He was quite aware of it, and saw it in the way the rest around him reacted to it. He was still the captain, and it was his duty to care for his crew. “What I don’t understand is why you’re so afraid of it becoming public knowledge. I know you grew up surrounded by quite narrow-minded people, but this… this is blank fear.”
Doc bit his lip, and then looked away, ashamed. Oh no, that would not do.
“Don’t be ashamed of being afraid,” Shanks said gently. “I don’t think you are weak for it, and I gladly rip anyone’s head off who does. But I’m your captain, and if one of my men is so viscerally afraid of something, I want to know why, so I can get rid of it.” Shanks took a deep breath. “I’m here to protect you, Hongo. I will protect you from bigoted minds, too!”
All Doc did was stare at Shanks. He stared, disbelief written in every line of his face, eyes blank until they shimmered wetly. Some stray tears ran down his face, and he brushed them away with force. “Fuck,” he got out, voice shaking. “Fuck!”
“Sweetheart,” Lime said quietly, and it only seemed to further Doc’s state of mind because even more tears fell. He gripped Lime’s shirt hard.
“I wanted to. I always wanted to tell everyone, but. How can I, can we, when even you can’t?” Doc said, looking at Shanks and Benn with a mix of something between panic and fear, and maybe a little accusation. Shanks shuddered, but kept his mouth shut. Doc wasn’t done. “I don’t even know if I’m simply imagining things. Gods, I probably do. I-” He shut himself up, shuddering, and whispered. “They killed him. They ran him out of town, and he died, and I couldn’t do anything.”
Shanks threw a glance at Benn whose somber expression mirrored his. That was quite more information than Shanks had thought he would get, but quite frankly not even close to enough. He was surprised, though, when Lime spoke.
“Love, what do you mean, when even Chief and Benn can’t? Everyone knows about them.”
Which made Shanks choke on his own salvia, and he coughed violently. “Excuse me?” Benn threw him a worried glance, probably ready to thumb his back if need be. Lime chuckled, and did that bastard blush?
“Oh come on, you’re not very subtle. The whole crew knows you two have the hots for each other. We were just waiting for you to figure it out, and tell everyone. You could have managed without losing an arm, though,” Lime said, and Shanks really needed to… he had no idea what he needed to do. He closed his eyes, and simply breathed. Benn, the traitor, chuckled.
“Let me guess, Roo’s running a betting pool.”
“Oh, he absolutely does,” Lime said, grinning, and Shanks didn’t know why, but the idea that the men had placed bets on when Benn and him would come out was somehow absolutely hilarious. Not very nice - and he wasn’t even thinking about respect right now - but still, very, very hilarious.
“Am I allowed to join in?” Shanks asked, now grinning himself, because how had he ever thought they would manage to keep their relationship secret, when he had flirted with Benn on every occasion, long before they had ever shared their first kiss? Of course the crew knew. They were the biggest gossip mongers on the Grandline.
“That would defeat the point a little bit, wouldn’t it,” Lime said, which made Shanks grin madly.
“That is not a no.”
“Could you stop?!”
Doc’s voice cut through the banter, his face pale, and his breathing way too hard and fast. Oh, shit.
“Fuck, sorry, my love,” Lime said, and Doc heaved and heaved, and then pressed the bridge of his nose with his thump and pointer. Lime wanted to pull him close, but Doc shook his head.
“No,” he said, quite forcefully. He looked up at Lime with clear accusation in his expression. “How could you know about Shanks and Benn and not tell me?” The last few words had been almost a shout. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” He heaved another breath. “And if everyone knows about them, does everyone know about us, too? I could have fucking kissed you in front of the crew, already, and no one told me. How could you? How-”
There were tears pooling in Doc’s eyes, but the worse part was that Shanks realized Doc was spiraling again. The panic which had gripped him earlier was not gone, and now came back with every word, every thought Doc had. Lime seemed to realize it, too. While he looked guilty, he still held Doc close, and pressed kisses into his temple.
“Doc, love. Calm down, please. Look at me?” he said, and Doc did. “I am sorry,” Lime murmured against Doc’s temple. “I am so sorry. You felt so guilty about the capt’n losing his arm, and every time we broached the subject of telling the crew, you were pulled into a panic attack. I simply didn’t think it to be a good idea.”
Which Shanks thought was a very fair assessment, considering that Doc had had a panic attack just mere moments ago, and was close to another. He sighed.
“Doc,” he said, and his two commanders looked at him. “I never blamed you for my arm.”
Doc hiccuped and then growled. “I could have found a way.”
“There was no way.”
It wasn’t Shanks who had said it, but Benn. Something deep and quite somber was written in his face. In any other situation Shanks would have pulled him aside, and told him how it was not his fault either, but honestly, it wasn’t the time or place for it. They were here for Doc. Even if Shanks hated that so many people felt guilty about him losing his arm, when he had no shred of guilt inside him at all. He had wanted the damned tattoo off more than he had wanted to keep his arm. Saving Luffy, and encouraging the new era was a fucking bonus, too.
“But,” Doc murmured, and Benn shook his head.
“I read every book. I searched for every scratch of information. I had a thousand ideas, and I tried every way imaginable to get rid of the tattoo, Doc. Believe me, there was no other way. I would have found it.”
They were all silent for quite a while after that statement. There was so much left unspoken, but Shanks felt it in his bones, they were getting closer to the bottom of it.
“Since when are you two a couple?” Doc asked into the quiet, after what felt like an eternity and no time at all.
Shanks smiled at him, and when he reached for Benn’s hand, his first mate took it. They entangled their fingers. “Confessed about a week after the arm,” Benn said, and Shanks saw how he closed his eyes. “I thought I’d lose him, and that left me so shaken, not confessing felt impossible.”
“Oh,” Doc said quietly, and nodded slowly. “And since when do you know about Lime and me?”
Shanks shrugged at the question, and gave Benn a quick look. “Two years ago? I think,” Shanks mused. Benn simply nodded.
“By the seas, really?” Now it was Lime who stared at them, almost incredulously. “Two years? For so long? And you didn’t let anything slip, ever, even when you were drunk?”
Shanks couldn’t help himself, he laughed at the words. Yet, he sombered quickly because this was not something he would ever want to make fun of. It was just hilarious because by now his men should know he could hold his liquor quite well. “It’s not my place and never will be. I knew you two were happy with each other, and would announce it whenever you felt comfortable. Which means.” He looked at Doc because he needed to make that quite clear. “You still don’t have to. This talk is not about forcing you to reveal anything to the men. If you never want to, I am quite fine with it. Just know that Benn and I are more than okay with you two being a couple. We’re happy for you. But Doc. You are so afraid of exposure it feels unhealthy. I am your captain. I can’t fight your past, but believe me when I tell you; I am very willing to fight whoever haunts your present.”
Doc gulped, and wiped over his face with the palms of his hands. A choked laugh escaped him, and he took a deep breath.
“If anyone can fight my fucking demons and win, it’s you, Chief.” Doc shuddered, but seemed to reign himself in. Before he started to talk, however, he buried himself deeper into Lime’s chest. Shanks had the slight feeling the man knew the story. Which wasn’t surprising, really. The two of them were probably as close as he and Benn were. Lime held Doc, pulled him close, and pressed kisses on his hair. Doc started to speak. “I grew up on an island where anything other than marriage between a man and woman, to get children and stay together until you died, was not only frowned upon, but an absolute taboo. I always thought that to be utter bullshit, and still, when I realized I found boys - men - attractive, and had not looked at any of the village’s girls even once, I broke out into a cold sweat. I was fourteen back then, and old enough to understand the consequences of it ever coming out. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, but I knew I wanted to get off the island the moment I was old enough to do so. Until then I pretended. I even dated a girl… until I met Christopher. I was seventeen, we hit it off. I knew I liked him more than a friend and was utterly shocked when he told me the same. But he wanted to go public, tell everyone off, and say fuck it, before bolting and leaving the god-forsaken island. I couldn’t. I wasn’t done with school, I had no money on my hands, and no idea where to go, other than away. We fought, he told me I’m weak and scared, and the next day he called everyone in the town’s square names, told everyone he was seducing their sons, and fucking their daughters.”
Shanks’ eyebrow rose. That was neither smart nor eloquent. “Very classy,” he commented, and Doc looked at him. There was something heavy in his eyes.
“He wasn’t like that usually. He was angry, and thought he had nothing to lose, because I pushed him away.” Doc shuddered, and Shanks could feel the guilt radiating off of his doctor. Oh fuck, he had a bad feeling about where this story was going. A stray tear ran down Doc’s face. It was one too many. “Before he was even done, they had started to attack him. They kicked and hit him bloody, and when he was on the ground they threw stones at him. I… I couldn’t even stop it. I wanted to. I should have, but…” His arm reached for the scar on his forehead, and Shanks understood without words.
“You would have faced the same fate, Doc,” Benn said appeasingly. Doc’s big, tearful eyes hit him. His voice was cold.
“He died!”
Shanks shuddered at the pain in Doc’s voice. It was raw and unfiltered. Lime pressed him impossibly closer, and something bubbled inside Shanks that he forcefully needed to press down. He couldn’t attack a whole island for that. Well, he could, but he wasn’t sure if it would change anything. It surely wouldn’t help Doc.
“Not one single doctor wanted to help him. I tried my best… I” Doc’s voice wavered. He choked, sobbed. “I couldn’t save him. I had no idea what to do. I can still hear all the voices of people that were supposed to be my friends, neighbours, call my name, call me names, and tell me to leave him be, he had earned it. But his only mistake was to love me.”
Anger flared up inside of him, and Shanks knew that some of his conqueror’s haki broke out of its cell. He stood, and was in front of Doc and Lime in three big steps. Without any grace he dropped to his knees, and took Doc’s hand. His eyes were probably piercing, but Doc didn’t turn away, didn’t flinch, simply looked.
“It’s never a mistake to love. Lime surely will agree with me when I say you are worth loving.” Lime snorted, and pressed a lingering, scorching kiss on Doc’s temple. Probably only not on his lips so Doc didn’t have to look away. Shanks squeezed Doc’s hand. “Those people were neither your friends nor your family. Because people who love you will not judge you for who you are.”
Shanks could feel Benn’s presence behind him, and a moment later he was in front of Doc, next to Shanks, kneeling just like he did. His voice was earnest and stern.
“We can’t undo your past, but we can guarantee you it won’t be your future,” Benn said, and Shanks grinned maniacly, diabolically.
“If anyone ever dares to throw stones at you for who you are, believe me, it is not you who dies.”
The way Benn and Lime looked, the murderous intention radiating off of them like heat from a fire, told Shanks that there would be a line willing to protect their precious doctor and friend, should it ever come to it.
“Are you really okay with it?” Lime asked him, as they stood side by side listening to Shanks and Benn explain to the crew that they were a couple. Doc nodded, even if his heart fluttered too fast in his chest, and his nerves were on high alert. He reached for Lime’s hand and gripped it, probably too tight, but his love didn’t care.
“I am,” he said rigorously under his breath, not too loud, yet. This moment was their captain’s and first mate’s. The way the men cheered and whistled through their teeth in excitement gave a good idea of how they would react to him and Lime. At least Doc told his traitorous mind as much. It would be fine. It would be more than fine because it would allow him to finally kiss Lime out in the open, without hesitation or fear.
Shanks and Benn had promised him they would kill everyone who would scorn him for his love, and they had never broken a promise before. Lime was next to him, holding him through any panic that tried to surface, and Doc was stronger than his fears. He could do it. Lime and him had talked countless hours after their conversation with Shanks and Benn. They had talked, and held each other, and talked some more. Which in the end had led them to this point.
When the noises had died down, and some coins had switched hands - there really had been a betting pool, good gods - Shanks gave him a quick glance. The question in his eyes was very visible, and Doc knew he could shake his head, say no, and no one would blame him. Only he himself would. Doc wanted to show himself he was stronger than his old demons. Lime was worth it. He himself was worth it. Their love was definitely worth it.
He nodded.
“Speaking of budding relationships, there is someone else who wants to share something with you,” Shanks announced, and turned his gaze towards Lime and Doc. Doc gulped when the crew followed Shanks’ look, and why were they so darn quiet so suddenly?
He had prepared words. Doc had even written down what he wanted to say, so he could mumble it again and again, memorize it. The little speech should be embedded into his brain, should come out of him without hesitation. No word left his mouth. Instead he could feel the eyes on him, the heavy anticipation, the -
“Look at me, sweetheart,” Lime hummed under his breath, and Doc did. He looked at Lime, the man he loved. Looked at the familiar face, the blue - so eerily blue - eyes, the small smirk that he seemed to wear constantly, not unlike their captain, but yet so very different, and the way whenever Lime saw him, everything about him spoke of love. Suddenly Doc felt like a fool. This was how Lime looked at him since … years now. Always fond, always full of love, always in mind what was best for him. If the crew hadn’t noticed, they were idiots… and Doc didn’t peg his crewmates for idiots.
He gripped Lime, his man - his alone and no one else’s - by the lapel of his shirt, and pulled him close. Their lips met. Something that had always been there intensified tenfold when they kissed. He loved this man so very dearly. Cheers erupted around him. Someone called, “Fucking finally”, and Doc could not care. Lime had slung his arms around him, held him, and Doc was exactly where he wanted to be, with whom he wanted to be.
“I love you, mi quiero,” he murmured against the lips, and received a blinding smile in return.
Then he was pulled away from his love, hands thumped his shoulders, and arms embraced him happily. He felt dizzy, but in a good way, and when Yasopp told him he had just lost twenty thousand belly, all Doc could do was laugh happily. It felt freeing.
Somewhere further away two sets of eyes watched over him, assessing, caring, always willing to protect, even if it wasn’t needed. They were happy, as long as their crew was happy. Doc felt like he was floating, with warm hearts and happy laughter around him, and his north star a fixing light, carrying him home. He always returned to Lime, to his love, to his heart, to his home, while his captain and first mate gave him the security he needed to be as open as he pleased.