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Chapter Text

Part 1. Mihawk

Chapter 1. The worst day of his life.

Mihawk was used to Shanks going to sea with his crew for a more or less long voyage. When they were young Mihawk didn't care about Shanks's schedule. They weren't friends, just acquaintances, the sons of two best friends. Then they started dating and before they knew it, they were married and had adopted three sons. Yet, Shanks continued to leave with his crew on the sea because Mihawk understood what it meant to have a dream - he almost died for his. Except over time, Shanks had become reluctant to leave for a long period, becoming guilty of letting Mihawk take care of the three terrors: Ace, Sabo et Luffy.

This was supposed to be Shanks' last trip before he gave up his old lifestyle, his childhood dream. Shanks had said he was ready to give up sailing since Mihawk had given up his title of the best swordsman in the world to take care of their family. According to Shanks, he had found another dream that required all his time: his family.

Mihawk was so used to Shanks being gone for long periods that he didn't mind when the Red Force didn't dock on the scheduled day. Shanks was as unpredictable as a storm, easily distracted and had the annoying habit of arriving late. So for Mihawk it was normal, he didn't worry, even if the boys had trouble understanding why their father wasn't there yet. The boys missed Shanks terribly, especially Luffy. Mihawk also missed his husband terribly, the hole in his chest growing bigger and bigger each day.

That morning was as normal as possible with Shanks not being there: Mihawk got the boys ready, took them to school, and left for work. He was a lawyer in a large company working for the government: Jinbei, his boss, liked to keep his company autonomous but would not hesitate to steal a check or two from the state. So, as usual, Mihawk was bothered by Doflamingo and Crocodile when he arrived at the office. He could swear that these two had only been hired to make his job more difficult. Then, Mihawk worked alone in his office from nine to eleven a.m. drafting and correcting contracts, answering emails, and preparing for his next meetings with important clients. His job wasn't as exciting as being in the spotlight as a world champion, but being a Shichibukai representative allowed him to earn a lot of money while remaining close to his family.

Also, Mihawk was in constant competition with his colleagues, but it was a game most of the time so he didn't feel obligated to be the best. Although being able to make fun of Dolfy after stealing a contract from him was always nice.

Speaking of family, at precisely 12:15 a.m., Boa Hancock knocked on his door because they always spent lunchtime together. As usual, Boa complained about her new secretary – it was her sixth this month and the month was just beginning – and wanted to see pictures of her "babies"- the trio infernal. Boa almost threatened him to take pictures so Mihawk obeyed, not because his younger sister was bullying him, but to avoid unnecessary arguments.

Mihawk was just showing off Luffy's latest pictorial work - a family drawing where Chopper looked like a mashed potato - when he was jostled by Teach Marshall.

"You could at least apologize!" said Boa, putting a hand on his hip and looking towards the miscreant.

Marshall muttered an insult through his broken nose before fleeing to the bathroom.

The brother and sister looked at each other in confusion. Sure Marshall was not the most liked by their colleague. In fact, Mihawk was pretty sure that Marshall was the most hated as the number of people who wanted to punch him was quite high. Doflamingo was at the top of the list; Mihawk had once caught him scribbling on an old napkin a plan for 'how to kill Marshall quietly without being charged' -he had helped his old friend to perfect his plan. So, neither Mihawk nor Boa were sad that someone had put Marshall in his place, they were mostly surprised to have missed the historic event.

Yet, when they entered the spacious and luxurious break room on their office floor, they were surprised that their colleges were not congratulating the man who had hit Marshall. Instead, a heavy and thick silence reigned in the large space while all eyes were fixed on the flat screen at the back of the wall. Mihawk felt a weight settle on his stomach as several of his colleagues turned to look at him, their gazes filled with shock and pity.

Why were they're looking at him like that? Mihawk didn't know, but he could feel something was wrong in his bones.

"What is happening ?" asked Boa as they approached Crocodile and Doflamingo.

Since they were young, Mihawk and Boa had a well-established way of operating: the younger sister made the conversation while the older brother stayed in the background and judged everyone. They were more than ten years apart, yet Mihawk and Boa got along well -now at least, it wasn't always the case. It had to be said that judging others was one of their favorite activities.

"Dolfy hit Marshall to prevent birdie from committing murder today," Crocodile said absently, putting out his cigar in an ashtray; he too felt sorry for Mihawk for a reason that was still unknown to him. Which wasn't normal because Croc was never sorry for anything, especially not for Mihawk, who he knew could defend himself alone.

Why did everyone seem sorry for him? What did they know more than him?

And then someone asked for the volume to be raised and Mihawk heard a reporter talking about a tropical cyclone, a ship that had sunk an hour ago in the middle of the Pacific, and a crew still missing. Slowly, Mihawk turned his head towards the TV screen, the weight on his stomach growing heavier and almost tangile as if he was going to throw up. The screen was split between the young journalist with long blond hair who was talking about the tragic accident and on the other, there were photos of the ship.

The reporter did not have to say the name of the ship because Mihawk already knew it. A longship whose metal looked like wood, a company logo in the shape of a pirate's head - nothing more than a joke - and a prow in the shape of a dragon. The storm had cut the ship in two, the steel was either bent or submerged beneath the waters, and the dragon had burned and metaphorically lost its wings.

"I’m going to call it the Red Force! Firstly because, well, red is my favorite color! And Force… because this boat will be even stronger than any storm… Dahahaha."

In fact, the lawyer remembered exactly the first moment he saw the Red Force. It was twenty years ago, his exuberant owner even made him wear a sleeping mask to keep the surprise until the end. To say Mihawk had been surprised would be an understatement, but the ship had been so Shanks - red, taking a lot of space, and solid - that he couldn't help but smile in sympathy. The Red Force was Shanks' commercial boat, his first baby made with his first love: the sea. Mihawk had always found it monumental with the dragon-shaped bow, yet he had trusted the Red Force to bring his husband back safe and sound.

Today, all that remained of the magnificent boat was torn white sails and pieces of driftwood.

Mihawk felt physically ill, although he could no longer hear the reporter speaking, an incessant buzzing sound preventing him from thinking or listening. He loosened his tie although the action was futile, he couldn't breathe even after opening his shirrt. Mihawk felt himself floating as he left the break room under the pitying gazes of his colleagues and entered an elevator.

He couldn't believe it, it couldn't be possible.

This was Shanks' last voyage before he divorced the sea and stayed home to raise the hellish trio with Mihawk. Yet the images of the remains of the Red Force were etched in his memory forever. How could anyone have survived? Mihawk let out a shaky breath, praying that Shanks was okay and that he had jumped into one of the lifeboats with his crew.

Mihawk didn't feel any better after exiting the building and breathing in the fresh air. It did nothing to calm his nerves. Hell, he felt even worse when he realized that a Navy car had just parked in front of the Shichibukai headquarters. It couldn't be as easy as a coincidence, could it? The Navy officer who got out of the car was surprised to see Mihawk a few meters away from him. However, Mihawk didn't know if it was because of his presence itself or if he looked as disheveled as he felt. He barely remembered running his trembling fingers through his gelled hair on the elevator ride down, yet he could feel strands of black hair on his forehead.

The officer had white hair even though he was younger than Mihawk, a cigar was already in his mouth, and a scar crossed his face.

"Hello, Mr. Silvers, my name is Smoker. I have been asked to advise you that the Red Force had been caught in a hurricane this morning and was found an hour ago by Navy ships. The crew is being transported to a hospital as I speak to you. According to the latest reports, they escaped into rescue canals and will all make it out alive. Nevertheless… "

The officer paused as if he knew his next words would change Mihawk's life forever: "The ship's Captain, Shanks Gold-Silvers, is missing."

Chapter Text

Chapter 2. A son will always need his father.

How do you continue to move forward without the person who swore to be by your side forever?

The same question echoed in Mihawk's head every moment.

How can they continue without Shanks?

Mihawk didn't have the answer to that question as he was stuck in a horrible in-between.

Shanks wasn't exactly dead, but he wasn't there either. Instead the redhead had been missing for two days. And not knowing slowly killed Mihawk. He didn't know if his husband had drowned in the sea he loved so much or if he was stranded on a desert island, struggling to return to his family and friends. Above all, Mihawk didn't know what to say to his boys. If he were to prepare them for the possibility that their second father would never return or rather preserve the hope that Shanks might come back.

At least Mihawk didn't have to break the news to them himself. Smoker's assistant, Tashigi, took care of it with gentle and reassuring words. However, despite her efforts, the three boys all had tears on their cheeks as they desperately clung to Mihawk. He held them against him with perhaps even more force.

They would know more once Smoker and Tashigi interrogated Shanks's crew who were still stuck in a hospital somewhere in the Pacific. Mihawk was unable to say the name of the hospital or what country it was in.

In fact, Mihawk barely remembered the drive home, helping Ace, Sabo, and Luffy get into their pajamas and eat. Or try to eat. The boys had refused to sleep and wanted to wait for Shanks to return, confident that this situation would be resolved in a few hours. Mihawk had swallowed hard, he was alone against three stubborn and sad children, and ended up bribing them by letting them sleep in his bed. Mihawk had read books before adopting the infernal trio and knew that blackmail was wrong, yet he hadn't come up with any other ideas.

Mihawk had always thought he was independent whether physically or mentally, he didn't need anyone to tell him who to be or what to do. He owed most of his bad temper to his father who raised him alone after his wife and Mihawk's mother abandoned them. Since then, he had sworn to no longer depend on anyone, yet Shanks had managed to pierce his shell, entering the swordsman's heart without being invited, and staying there forever. Mihawk had asked Shanks's hand, wasn't that the first sign that he was already dependent on the redhead? Except Shanks had spoken of eternal love and Mihawk had wanted to believe it. They'd gotten married, bought a house together, adopted kids, and even had the dog and the damn white picket fence.

Why had everything gone wrong in one day?

Mihawk did not consider himself a saint and knew that Shanks had his own faults, but they did not deserve the gods to take revenge on their love. They'd had their share of fighting, but they'd never killed anyone, and Mihawk considered planning someone's murder in his head in a million ways to be more evidence of restraint than mental deficiency.

He wanted to hate Shanks. He wanted to hate him with all his heart for putting him through this new ordeal. Why couldn't their love be simple for once? Why did Shanks have to be this reckless fool? Now Mihawk blamed himself for not stopping Shanks from leaving, but he knew deep down that would have been selfish, the redhead needed to live freely and travel at sea, just like swordsmanship was rooted in Mihawk DNA. In the end, he couldn't find it in himself to hate Shanks, Mihawk was too worried for that.

That night, Mihawk did not sleep because his mind was imprisoned by these questions to which he did not have the answers.

The children did not go to school the next day and they stayed with Mihawk at home for two days where they hid from the world. The little family tried to heal the wound of their loss together with Chopper -the dog- as a bandage.

Mihawk forced the infernal trio to return to school on the third day. Ace, Sabo, and Luffy needed to continue living, moving forward, and healing thanks to their friends. If Mihawk definitely couldn't take a ship and go in search of his lost love, then he would make sure the children had a roof over their heads, food on the table, and continued to go to school.

And, while waiting for Shanks to return, Mihawk would love them twice as much.

Ace and Sabo accepted the news with resigned calm as if they expected to have to return to school one day or another. Mihawk would never be as lax as Shanks even during this time of crisis. Only Luffy flatly refused to return to school, saying that he wanted to be there when Shanks will be back and that he couldn't leave. At first, Mihawk tried to reason with his youngest son until he ran out of patience and ended up telling Luffy that he had no choice anyway. Well, Shanks had always been better than him at reasoning and bargaining with the trio. The redhead had a hidden talent for talking to Luffy, a talent that Mihawk obviously didn't have.

"I hate you !" Luffy's cry echoed throughout the house, "I wish it was you who died!"

Luffy left to cry in his room before Mihawk had time to understand what the kid had just said. His heart broke a little and he lost what little appetite he had. A heavy silence reigned in the room as Sabo and Ace stared at him in surprise, both not knowing what to do or say. They were expecting their dad to break but Mihawk stayed as stoic as ever, maybe even more.

"He didn't mean it..." Sabo began, looking to Ace for support.

"…We’re going to go talk to him, he has no right to say that, it’s mean. "

Mihawk blinked and found himself alone in the dining room. He pressed his hand to his forehead tiredly wondering why he was doing everything wrong? He felt like there was a gap between him and Luffy, and that gap could never be bridged, even if they suffered the same pain. Except the last thing Mihawk wanted was for boys to hate him. He didn't want to be the bad father, even if it was complicated to be the good one compared to Shanks the prankster, and yet, he would become one if he had to. Mihawk hesitated to go comfort Luffy but chose to let the kid breathe knowing that Sabo and Ace would do a better job than him.

So Mihawk got up and cleaned the table, half-eaten plates, his own more than those of the boys. Cleaning the dishes, drying them, and putting them away allowed him to clear his mind and not think about where Shanks might be. However, Mihawk failed miserably. His stomach tightened with worry, but above all he refused to think that Shanks might already be dead.

No longer having an excuse to return to his empty bed, Mihawk grabbed a book from his endless pile and settled in to read. The book was more of an artifice to make him feel better since, iIn an hour, he had barely read ten pages. His mind was so busy somewhere elsewhere, towards the Pacific Ocean and a broken ship; to Shanks and the children. So when the door to his room opened, Mihawk jumped in surprise. Luffy hesitantly entered the room, his little stuffed monkey clutched to his chest with trembling hands. His chubby cheeks still bore the traces of his tears and his eyes were red. He closed the door gently so as not to wake his brothers and climbed into bed when Mihawk placed his book on the bedside table.

Not knowing how to act around the unpredictable boy, the hurtful words still ingrained in his memory, Mihawk let Luffy cling to him. He was surprised by the sudden tears that fell down the usually cheerful kid's cheeks. It wasn't that Shanks and Mihawk had favorites, but according to those around them, Luffy was the spitting image of the redhead while Sabo was more like the swordsman, and Ace, well, the two adults usually had to deal with him together. So, not knowing what to say, Mihawk simply hugged his son, hoping that would be enough.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Luffy stuttered between sobs, "I'm scared, don't leave me. I don't want you to disappear too."

Surprised, Mihawk tightened his arms around the boy, "It's okay, Luffy. I'm not going anywhere."

That night when Luffy had fallen asleep in Shanks' place after ten minutes of crying, and Ace and Sabo had ended up joining them, Mihawk vowed to do everything to be better for the boys.

Above all, he swore to himself that nothing would ever separate this family again.

The next morning, Luffy agreed to go to school if he could wear the straw hat that hung on his parents's bedroom door, it was ridiculous, but the hat belonged to Shanks and Mihawk agreed: he would let the straw hat be Luffy's shield.

For his part, Mihawk forced himself to return to work too and tried to ignore the prying eyes of his colleagues. The only people he tolerated were Boa, Dolfy, and Crocodile as they were the only ones who didn't treat him differently. But working didn't help much because, as much as Mihawk wanted to focus on the contract of an octogenarian billionaire who didn't know what to do with her money, he was obsessed with his phone. He had been waiting for Smoker's call for three days and was monitoring the news but still nothing.

It was as if the Red Force had disappeared into a sea of more important information.

Around 2 p.m., the lawyer stopped pretending and left his office. He couldn't concentrate, let alone work, anyway. Instead of returning to an empty house, Mihawk headed towards the dingy gymnasium that had been his teenage home. He felt barely better dressed in his sports clothes and blowing off steam against a punching bag. Hitting something was ideal for releasing the feelings that had been building up inside of Mihawk over the past few days -there were a lot of them.

"Bob seems to have particularly bothered you," said a mocking voice behind Mihawk, "he does that to a lot of people. Most imagine him as their boss or their ex, while I imagine him very well as a tax collector. So please don't screw it up. Bob has a dear place in my heart."

Despite the underlying request to reduce the intensity of his punches, Mihawk continued to hit the punching bag with all his might, sweat dampened his forehead and his arms began to shake from the effort, "why are you so stubborn to name them?"

"I like to know who I'm punching, and you named him Bob," Rayleigh replied with a chuckle. "I still don’t know where you got that name from."

"That was the name of the social worker who wanted to take me when she thought you were beating me: Bobbie Marchaux."

"Oh, yes it’s true…"

Rayleigh sat on a bench next to the punching bags, his blue eyes glinting with worry as he looked towards his son. Mihawk was visibly tired, his black hair fell in thick waves across his forehead, and deep dark circles were sinking into his skin.

"You've got any news about Shanks?"

This was not the first time that Rayleigh asked Mihawk this question ; his dad was not the only one to ask him this question as everyone seemed worried about Shanks. It was nice, Mihawk guessed, but he was so tired of answering that he didn't know anything. Rayleigh was the only one to whom Mihawk developed the answer : "Smoker still hasn't called me, he probably has to go back and forth to talk to Benn Beckman and the others," Mihawk said, shrugging his tense shoulders.

"Did you talk to them?"

"Beck called me last night, I didn't pick up," he answered honestly, because if there was one person Mihawk could always rely on was that old crook; a former world champion who took advantage of his retirement to train young people on a voluntary basis. "I don’t want to hear their excuse."

"It's not their fault Shanks disappeared," Ray said worriedly, noticing the new tension in his son's shoulders. For a second, he imagined Mihawk as a stretched wire.

All it would take is additional pressure for the wire to break.

"I know."

"So what are you so concerned about?"

Mihawk stopped hitting Bob to give his father an incredulous look, "Besides my husband may be dead somewhere in the Pacific, the boys could be traumatized for life, and I'm losing all grip on my life ? Nothing at all, I'm fine. Remind me to take out the trash tonight. "

He unloaded all his anger on Bob in a powerful blow, the punching bag came loose from its steel hook and rolled against the tatami until Rayleigh stopped its course with his foot.

"Excuse me, I expressed myself incorrectly. What bothers you besides all this? Come on, sit down and tell me everything. "

Mihawk hesitated before sitting next to the old man and explaining to him what happened the day before with Luffy, "did it hurt you this much every time I told you the same thing?"

"No matter how many times you wished I wasn't your father, I knew you didn't mean it," Ray replied with a small, wistful smile on his lips.

"I thought so…sometimes. Especially after Hinata would rush by, give me a gift and leave."

"It’s normal for children to hate their parents at one time or another. Especially during difficult times. Hinata had abandoned us for this millionaire surfer and I pushed you too hard in your training, you were right to hate me. But still, I almost don't regret it," Ray paused when his gaze rested on Mihawk's right wrist who had taken off his boxing glove to drink; the scars were practically invisible now but Rayleigh could still see them -he could never forgot that day. "You became a strong and responsible man who gave up his goal for his family, you adopted children who had no one and you allowed yourself to be loved and loved someone. You don't need me, yet when everything is going wrong, you are coming back to me."

"I only benefit from the free subscription as the son of the owner."

Ray ignored the sarcastic remark and added, "It doesn't matter how many times you said you hated me because, at the end of the day, you're here. You come to me when you need it and not Hinata, because I never tried to earn your love with gifts. I was physically there for you every time, that’s the most important thing. That's how I know Luffy will never hate you. Don't let Ace, Luffy, and Sabo drift away even if it means being the bad father. It's by abandoning them that you will become a really shitty father."

Mihawk looked towards Rayleigh, his golden eyes filled with tears, but he hid them with a sarcastic remark, "I'll hit you if you try to hug me."

"And I won’t tell you everything will be okay, but at least let me help you."

Mihawk's phone vibrated just then with a text: Smoker wanted to speak to him at Central Police Station.

"Well, lucky you, you can start now. "

Chapter Text

Chapter 3. The situation can always get worse.

Mihawk would never admit it to Rayleigh or himself, but at that moment, sitting in a stainless steel chair in an interrogation room, he was grateful that his father was there with him. Rayleigh had not always been a good father, he was carefree, liked to drink, a little too much, and did not know how to have stable and healthy relationships - Boa was clear proof of this - until he met Shakky.

When Mihawk was young, his father pushed him way beyond his limits by having him participate in all kinds of competitions -from juniors to the Olympic games. At first, Mihawk had been grateful, he wanted to break his limits by being the number 1 in his specialty. The goal was to prove to his mother that she was wrong to abandon him. Then, Ray had reconnected with his old friend Roger and was spending more and more time with Shanks and Buggy, which made Mihawk push himself even harder. The teenager felt like he had to prove to his father that he was there too, that he was his son, not them.

It took Shanks' intervention for Mihawk to realize that pushing himself so much was wrong - as if the mutilation marks on the swordsman's wrists weren't proof enough. Gradually, Mihawk stopped training as much and spent more time with Shanks to be imbued with his good temper and bad humor. They were already together when Roger died of cancer and Rouge from a car accident two months later and it was up to Mihawk to help Shanks. They had always been there for each other, to fill their faults and perfect their qualities. Yet the world seemed determined to end their relationship.

In three days, Smoker had collected a lot of information. The testimonies of Beck, Lucky, Yasopp, and the others -Limejuice, Hongo, Gab, or Bong punch- confirmed that the hurricane was not the only one to blame for the accident. There had been an engine failure an hour before the storm began which clipped the Red Force's wings.

"Shanks takes care of this boat like it's his first child, an engine failure is impossible," said Rayleigh in amazement, and for good reason, he and Roger had taught Shanks how to sail and take care of a boat. In nine years as Captain, Shanks had never experienced such a major malfunction on a ship under his supervision.

"We are waiting for the Red Force to be repatriated to one of our warehouses to begin scientific analysis. For now, I’m not ruling out either an accident or sabotage," Smoker said, looking straight into Mihawk’s eyes.

Feeling threatened, Mihawk raised an eyebrow while crossing his arms over his chest, "you think I sabotaged the Red Force?"

"I am not excluding any possibility."

"It's a shame!" railed Rayleigh, defending his son. "Mihawk wouldn't get anything out of Shanks' death."

Smoker remained unfazed as he asked, "Do you know how much Mr. Gold's death insurance is?" »

"Twenty-two million and a few cents. Before you stoop to asking: I know it because I've been managing Shanks' accounts since we got married. Therefore, I know that the beneficiaries of this insurance are Ace, Luffy, and Sabo. I will inherit almost nothing if Shanks dies. The house belongs to me as much as it does to him and the business would go to Benn Beckman."

"Unfortunately, at this stage of the investigation, you remain on the list of suspects for homicide, Mr. Silvers."

"Homicide? But no one died in the accident," Rayleigh argued, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Mihawk felt the knot in his stomach tighten as he saw the solemn expression on the officer's face, "What aren't you telling us?"

"Late last night, a fisherman found an arm on a remote island. My scientific team took care of it immediately, but despite the stage of decomposition, they are certain it is indeed your husband's. For obvious reasons, I won't show you a photo, but I need you to identify it."

The chair Ray was sitting in creaked as he settled back uncomfortably, "then how?"

"The experts recovered this too," Smoker admitted, after giving Mihawk enough time to digest the news. His husband's left arm might be all that would ever be found. Mihawk forced his face to remain stoic as his heart slowly drowned in salt water - perhaps like Shanks's…- and he grabbed the yellow letter the officer was handing him.

He opened it with shaking fingers and was surprised by the small thing that landed in his palm : a golden ring.

The ring itself was nothing special: just a golden wedding ring, but Shanks had insisted on having the inside of both rings engraved and keeping it a surprise until they could exchange them. They had all the time in the world to have them engraved since they had already gotten married at the town hall without having rings.

His face closed when he read the inscription that he had made engraved on the ring: You are my new dream. It was nothing special yet the phrase held meaning for them, a promise that Mihawk would stop self-harming by focusing on a new dream.

In agreeing to Shanks' idea of having their rings engraved, Mihawk had been convinced that something childish or silly would be written on his ring, but he had been wrong since in his was written: You are my lighthouse.

"This is Shanks' wedding ring," he said softly as if a part of his soul was leaving his throat with each word to dissolve into the air. He handed the ring back to Smoker, but the officer gestured for him to keep it and Mihawk slipped it onto his right ring finger.

"We searched the entire island for the remains of the body, but found nothing. Now there's a good chance that this arm is all that's left of your husband, Mr. Silvers."

Mihawk looked at the ring on his finger doing his best to keep his mask from cracking as his heart shattered in his chest. Was it true? Was Shanks... Mihawk couldn't finish his sentence as everything in him didn't want to believe it. His instincts told him that Shanks was alive. But what if his head was being influenced by his dying heart? Logically, Mihawk knew his husband's death was the logical outcome, but he refused to consider it.

"So that’s all, you close the investigation?" asked Rayleigh barely hiding his anger, he loved Shanks like a son after all.

"My employers would like to close the case as quickly as possible," Smoker said honestly before leaning back in his chair, his fingers playing with a cigar, "but as I told you, I am convinced that the engine was sabotaged which changes the investigation from disappearance to homicide. If I can't find your husband, I'll at least find his murderer."

Mihawk wanted to say that Shanks wasn't dead, but Smoker stood up and shook Rayleigh's hand before leaving.

"Come on, kid, I’ll take you home."

As the days passed, Mihawk bravely tried to keep his cold and indifference mask intact. It was the one he used to protect himself during endless interviews when he was still a swordsman in the spotlight. He still used it now during those boring meetings with his exuberant colleagues. The only times Mihawk lowered his mask was in the presence of boys because they were the only ones who truly shared his pain.

Yet his blood still boiled in his veins when he heard someone mention Shanks' death. This was for example the case this afternoon. Mihawk was trying to be a model host to his guests by serving them drinks while Rayleigh was debriefing the conversation with Smoker to Buggy and Benn. The old man looked pretty shaken with bandages covering half his face and his arm broken.

Mihawk remained silent throughout the conversation, even as his three guests began to weigh the pros and cons of reporting Shanks' death to the administration. Obviously, the conversation weighed more towards the pros since declaring Shanks dead would allow the little family to move on, to receive the inheritance, and to cancel Shanks' subscriptions to stupid magazines.

Mihawk absentmindedly played with the ring around his neck, he wore Shanks' wedding ring like a necklace since it was a little too big for his fingers. He sighed tiredly when he felt all eyes converge on him. Rayleigh, Buggy, and Benn could continue to speculate about what to do next as much as they wanted because, ultimately, the decision would be up to Mihawk.

"What is the point of a marriage?" he asked, stopping playing with the ring, "what is the point of swearing to be faithful all our lives and to love each other in happiness as well as in trials if at the moment of facing the worst test of our marriage I abandon Shanks? If I declare him dead all because it would be easier for the three of you."

"You need to think about the children!" said Buggy virulently with a big wave of his hand. "It's been two weeks and his arm has been found, my dear brother is dead and will not return. I only think about the well-being of my nephews. The inheritance would allow them to have comfortable lives."

Mihawk let out some of his anger as he stood up and said with resolve, "My children do not need to attend a funeral ceremony or see an empty coffin being buried. Ace, Sabo, and Luffy need to maintain hope that their father will return. This is the only way for them to continue going to school and playing with their friends. I need to believe that my husband is stronger than a hurricane and will find a way to come back to us."

"But…"

"Enough, Buggy! Mihawk made his choice and we will respect it," Rayleigh said in a firm voice that left no room for a counterargument.

Mihawk's golden eyes turned to Beck daring him to contradict him, but the older man just shrugged, "I can keep the shipping company running and make the changes Shanks wanted. It's not like he takes care of administration anyway. Let me take care of the business until this idiot comes back."

"Thank you," said the swordsman, meaning it; he would have been willing to keep the business afloat if necessary, but it would be better taken care of by the co-owner.

Rayleigh changed the subject to ask Buggy about his circus business and Mihawk took the opportunity to leave the living room. He needed to refill his glass with wine to calm his nerves. This conversation had shaken him more than he wanted to admit. Shanks' disappearance had become all too real as he saw Beck sitting on his couch, his arm in a cast, and his eyes haunted by traumatic memories.

Except that, on the way, Mihawk was intercepted by someone jumping on him for a hug. He looked down to see Sabo smiling even though tears were streaming down his cheeks. The kid must have heard everything about their conversation.

"Thank you, Dad," Sabo mumbled into Mihawk's chest before raising his head, his eyes still filled with tears, but they were a glint of hope in them "thank you for not abandoning us."

If he could, Mihawk hugged Sabo tighter, refusing to let go, "I'll hold the fort," he promised as he felt the boy sobbing against him, "I'll hold it together until Shanks returns."

"I miss him so much… Do you think he’ll come back?" The b-boys in my class... t-they say... that dad is dead. And that he'll never come back… I-I don't want to be abandoned again," Sabo whispered as his sobs got worse.

Sabo's fear of abandonment was understandable given the circumstances in which Mhawk and Shanks had adopted the boy. They had first met him at the nursery school since he was in the same class as Ace. Immediately, the two adults took a liking to the shy but polite little boy. It was a completely different story for Sabo's parents, two snobs who treated their sons as an object only good for bringing them prestige. Of course, Mihawk had felt that Rayleigh was using him to bring home medals, but his father had never called him a "return on investment" in front of a crowd of parents. Except Outlook III and Didit were prominent members of the society and Mihawk and Shanks couldn't do anything legally.

Until an opportunity presented itself and Mihawk seized it, forgetting to ask his partner's opinion. He still remembered returning home one afternoon to a distraught Shanks who had a hard time taking care of Ace - now four - and a baby alone. At the time, they were doing Garp, a soon-to-retire police officer and former friend/nemesis of Shanks' father, a favor by babysitting his grandson for free from time to time.

"Why are you smiling? Did I do something wrong?" had asked Shanks, who immediately suspected something when he saw the good mood his husband was in. "You always smile before yelling at me, it's pretty terrifying. At least wait until Luffy falls asleep first because he's been crying all afternoon and Ace threatened to suffocate him..."

"I'm the one who did something wrong," Mihawk had confessed before putting his briefcase on the table and opening it.

"That would be a first, you are always impeccable, my angel."

"I'll spare you the technical details, but do you remember that Outlook and Didit requested the services of my agency and that Croc is their lawyer?" Shanks nodded once as he continued to rock Luffy in his arms and Mihawk added, "Well, Croc warned me that the government gave Outlook the choice to keep either his company or his son and… "

"...he chose his heritage," Shanks had easily guessed as a smile began to appear on his face.

"Yes, Sabo was going to be placed in a foster home tonight, but I talked to the director to let us keep him while the case is resolved. She's going to drop him off here later this evening."

"Seriously? You’re awesome, my love! Now, I won't have to kidnap Sabo!"

"Stop cutting me, I'm not finished," Mihawk had said sternly, motioning for Shanks to sit back down. "I was able to speak to Outlook while Croc was in the 'toilet' and told him the offer that his lawyer had inadvertently left out. It borders on illegality, but Outlook will avoid a year in court and prison for a long time if he lets us keep Sabo."

"W-what?"

Mihawk didn't hesitate for a second before handing Shanks the papers that he, Outlook and Didit had already signed, "sign this and Sabo will legally be our son."

Mihawk smiled as he remembered Shanks' huge smile and the stars that had shone in his eyes before putting his signature next to that of the swordsman. They were just 26 and 22 years old, had had custody of Ace for barely a year, and were taking care of a baby every other night, yet, despite the difficulties, he and Shanks had never regretted a single moment their decision. They had known the second they met Sabo that the child deserved a better family, theirs.

One day, Mihawk would explain to Sabo the details of his adoption and how his real parents hadn't abandoned him so easily. For now, he just dropped one knee to the ground and forced Sabo to look at him, "don't listen to them, they're idiots. I don't know anyone more stubborn on this earth than Shanks. He will come back; he promised it to me."

Mihawk's hand left Sabo's shoulder and moved to his own neck where he retrieved the necklace. In the space of a second, he had swapped the wedding rings from the one on his finger to the one on the necklace, "Shanks swore he'd chase me through hell as long as I wore this. I guess if you're the one wearing it, then he's bound to come back to you."

Mihawk felt no guilt for exchanging his wedding ring for Shanks's because, right now, the most important thing was Sabo's huge smile when the necklace and Mihawk's ring were around his neck. Then, after Sabo had left, Mihawk looked at his left ring finger and the gold ring that glittered there and decided that a lighthouse would be as effective as a new dream.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4. Slowly drowning

His footsteps echoed horribly on the wooden floor, the silence was oppressive, the tranquility false, and the solitude strange.

Mihawk continued to advance, step by step, cautiously, expecting to be attacked at any moment. But he was alone, completely alone, on the ship that was too large and unfamiliar, in a cramped corridor that smelled... strangely, like sea water, but ten times worse.

The ghost ship staggered, probably under the weight of a wave, but this did not bother Mihawk who continued to move forward.

The further he advanced, the less his footsteps echoed in the empty space, the toes of his boots meeting softer and softer ground. Mihawk looked around and the wooden walls began to crumble. The beautiful raw oak wood was turning a sickly green, holes appearing here and there, larger or smaller depending on the hunger of the moths. The smell grew thicker too, so much so that Mihawk finally recognized it for what it was: humidity.

As he got closer to the only door in the hallway, Mihawk's right foot stepped into a muddy puddle. This was half caused by the spreading humidity and half by the drops of water leaking from under the door, promising a storm outside. However, Mihawk, who hated walking around in wet clothes, placed his hand on the golden handle and opened the door.

The storm outside raged, enough to blind Mihawk, but not enough to convince him to stay in the corridor that was rotting from the inside. So, Mihawk tirelessly continued to advance despite the pouring rain which did not fail to wet his shirt and his pleated pants.

He didn't know where exactly he was walking until he came face to face with a man. Strangely, the rain did not seem to reach him since a halo protected him from the icy drops. So, the man was perfectly dry, from his shirt wildly open on a strong and thick chest, to his loose jeans, and his sandals. The man looked perfectly healthy with his divinely tanned skin under the stormy sky, both arms at his sides and his vibrant red hair. The painting was perfect, well, almost, because the man wasn't smiling. His face was cold and closed, unreadable, even to Mihawk.

However, he would recognize the person even if he was blind, no one else had this particular eye color: gray turning to red.

And then, just as Mihawk was about to speak, to rush forward, to make his relief known, a loud crack echoed throughout the boat. So much so that Mihawk felt it deep in his heart. At first, he thought that thunder was finally rumbling, but there had been no warning flash. For good reason, the cracking did not come from above his head, but from under his feet.

Mihawk's golden eyes widened as he saw the long welt that ran the length of the bridge, right between the person and him.

There was another terrible crack and eye contact suddenly broke. Not because the man had just fallen, no, he was still standing as straight and still as before. The only difference was that the part of the bridge the redhead was standing on suddenly sank.

Mihawk blinked and the lower deck of the ship - the Red Force - continued to sag towards the sea. The salty water rose until it reached the man's ankles, still imperturbable.

Mihawk desperately reached forward, his fingers brushing against the man's shirt, but he wasn't close enough. As Mihawk's heart beat too hard in his chest, almost exploding, and his hand closed, this far too familiar stranger smiled. As if it was a joke, a game, and his life was not in danger. Then, the sea won the battle and completely swallowed up the second part of the bridge.

"SHAAAAAANKS!" Mihawk screamed, tearing his lungs apart. He ran towards the torn edge of the bridge and leaned dangerously to look out into the immensity of the sea, but saw nothing, the redhead had disappeared.

Not yet. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet.

Please, I just found him, Mihawk begged to no one in particular since he was alone again.

Before he knew it, Mihawk dove into the deadly and wild sea.

He sank and swam to the bottom, further and further from the surface, flapping his feet and hands, and searching frantically around him for a white shirt, tanned skin, red hair... Any sign that he wasn't alone there either.

All too quickly, his breath began to fail, his lungs began to burn, and his limbs felt incredibly heavy from his wet clothes.

However, Mihawk did not give up and his efforts were rewarded when he saw a red flash in the black water. Well, almost rewarded. Because as much as Mihawk persisted and tried to swim and fight against the sea which seemed to hate him, he continued to move away from Shanks. Shanks who looked so peaceful, like he was sleeping, like he was already dead. The redhead didn't try to struggle against the waves to reach Mihawk, instead, he let himself be transported further away from his husband.

Again, Mihawk stretched his hand forward and their fingers brushed.

Once again, nature prevented their reunion and Mihawk and Shanks were separated again.

Too far this time.

And as much as Mihawk wanted to continue fighting even if he was the only one, he could no longer ignore the fire in his lungs, the breath he was missing, and his eyelids growing heavy.

He looked back up at Shanks' peaceful face, his closed eyes, his small smile, and closed his own, refusing to live without his better half.

***

Mihawk sat up abruptly in his bed, panting loudly despite his breath being caught in his throat. He felt like he was drowning or already dead, trapped under the pressure of the water. He opened his eyes, searching desperately for Shanks, certain he could still save him despite drowning, but he was still surrounded by darkness.

He jumped in fear when something brushed against his fingers, worried that he would have to face a sea monster now. Except his new enemy was soft and… hairy? Surprised, Mihawk stretched his slender, trembling fingers forward, and the tension left his body when a bark answered him: Chopper.

With his right hand, Mihawk had difficulty finding and turning on the switch. He blinked after his success since the sudden brightness had dazzled him. At least the warm light of the lamp chased away the darkness and Mihawk noticed that he was no longer in danger underwater, but safe in the room he shared with...

His heart was beating way too fast as Mihawk looked around the room again, from the magenta walls, to the imposing walk-in closet, and the reading chair, but the main item wasn't there, like every other night for two month.

Finally, Mihawk calmed down and leaned his back against the bedpost, he even let Chopper lick his fingers. Two months ago, he would have allegedly refused and argued with Chopper. But a lot of things had changed in two months, including Mihawk's animosity towards the young golden retriever. Now, it wasn't like Mihawk had hated Chopper, he had just never wanted a pet, knowing only too well who would have to take care of it in the end. And he had been right since many times the boys and Shanks had forgotten to feed or walk Chopper. Finally, the little creature ended up growing on Mihawk who agreed to keep the puppy permanently.

Except that, until Shanks' disappearance, Mihawk had always refused to let Chopper climb into the beds for reasons of hygiene - and because he didn't want to be watched doing things with his husband. Here he was now, sleeping with Chopper at the foot of the bed since the boys were at summer camp, and letting him lick his fingers. Chopper had sensed his owner's distress and tried to soothe him.

"I'm fine," Mihawk whispered even though it was a lie. Considering that he was talking to a dog without speech, Mihawk decided that he had the right to lie. It wasn't like Chopper was going to notice, "it's still the same nightmare."

He shared a knowing look with Chopper and whispered, "One day I'll catch him."

The dog barked as if he understood.

Against his will, Mihawk smiled, glad to not be totally alone in this too-big house. It reminded him of the ghost ship, the Red Force, which was rotting from the inside, to the point of self-destruction. Seeing the images on television of his husband's beloved longship, Mihawk had been sure he would have nightmares and he was right. He had to admit that he frequently looked at the press photos of the rubble of the Red Force in an unhealthy and masochistic way. As a result, Mihawk had no trouble imagining the decomposing longship since the photographs were engraved in his memory.

He shivered as flashes of a destroyed ship went through his mind. The broken dragon-shaped bow, the torn sails, the bridge split into two distinct pieces - one which had sunk more than the other -, and the coconut trees disappeared forever... Above all, Mihawk imagined only too well the scene, Shanks ordering his crew to leave without him as he recklessly tried to save his ship, only to fail and never return.

Yes, in two months, Mihawk had had plenty of time to ask Beck the sordid details of Shanks' final moments.

Feeling oppressed in his own room, Mihawk left his bed on trembling legs, not yet fully recovered from his fake drowning. Chopper easily followed him from the bedroom to the kitchen where Mihawk drank a glass of wine in one go before pouring himself a second glass. Chopper scratched at the door leading outside and Mihawk sighed before grabbing his drink, the night was cool, perhaps enough to calm his trembling nerves.

A knife caught his attention before he reached the door. The hilt was extended towards him, the shining blade calling to him. Like a sailor caught in the clutches of a mermaid, Mihawk reached out to grab the knife. He had made a promise to Shanks, but the redhead had broken his. So why not ? Mihawk knew a cut would be enough to ease his nerves. The sting of the cut, the blood slowly draining, and the reminder of the injury at every movement had always allowed Mihawk to relax after a hard day. Except it would never be just a cut. There would be a second, then a third, until his wrists were a constellation of more or less recent scars.

Then, the cuts will get deeper and deeper because it would never be enough, the dopamine always end up disappearing, leaving him unsatisfied.

Back then, when he was still that overconfident young man, Mihawk had been convinced that he had the situation under control. He was not a slave to his impulses, he could control himself, and he did not need cuts to keep moving forward. They were giving him pleasure, that was all. Except Shanks hadn't agreed with him. The youngest had dreaded the day when Mihawk would lose control, where a day would be just a little too hard, and the cut would no longer be vertical but horizontal. To ease the redhead's mind, Mihawk ended up promising to never do it again and he kept that promise, even on particularly hard days, because he always knew Shanks would be there. To a call, a block away, or, later, waiting for him at home.

Except Shanks was gone and Mihawk felt his absence day after day, each one getting harder than the last.

So, yes, grabbing the knife and going back to his old ways was more than tempting. The weight of the knife in his hand, the sting, the blood, the control. But Mihawk thought of the boys at the last second and instead of using the knife, he put it in the knife holder with the others. He was their last father figure, he had to be responsible for them.

Chopper barked impatiently and Mihawk turned his attention back to the dog waiting for him. He opened the door, let Chopper let off steam in the garden, and have fun with a tennis ball that the Golden Retriever brought him from time to time, and sat down on the terrace.

It was Shanks who built it with Beck, Yasopp, and Lucky almost ten years ago. He said the summers were going to be hot, perfect weather for a barbecue, but Mihawk had refused to serve grilled food in the house, it would stink. So the terrace had been a compromise. Mihawk had wanted to pay a professional, but Shanks said he could do it alone and according to the elder's tastes. He had finally given in to his husband's puppy eyes and they had chosen everything together; from materials, colors, and style. Obviously, they had argued quite a few times, mainly because of the length of the work. It was their first major project after moving in, but at no time had their relationship been in danger.

Mihawk should have known that the Shanks-Beck-Yasopp-Lucky quartet wouldn't do anything good. Certainly, apart, they were talented. Beck could have been an architect in another life, Yasopp always knew someone to get materials at a discount, and Lucky had a talent for working with wood. For his part, Shanks always brought good humor and knew how to coordinate his men to perfection. The only problem was that Shanks was also a troublemaker who always had something to say, especially jokes, and his friends were a very good audience. Many times, Mihawk had to scold them to stop laughing and get back to work.

He had never been able to stop looking out the window when the quartet was working. First, because they worked in the summer and Shanks took off his shirt very easily; at first because he was hot and then, because he noticed the golden gaze on him. And who could blame Mihawk for watching as his husband's muscles were easily displayed and enhanced by the sweat pooling on them and his new tan. And then sometimes Ace would help his big brother who he still had trouble calling 'father' with a toy hammer and it was the most adorable sight Mihawk had ever seen.

The result was… stunning. Honestly, Mihawk had expected to have a rickety deck that would collapse at the first bad weather. Except the deck was still holding up even after a decade and it had never failed once, only needing a few coats of coating every three or four years. So it was still the same after all these years: the solid parquet flooring in long strips that covered the entire length of the exterior wall of the house; the guardrails that Shanks had built by weaving ropes into a clever pattern for each of them; the beams where Beck had carved the bow of the Red Force and a majestic hawk; the double-thickness glass roof which protected from the sun that Yassop had collected from one of his cousins; and the staircase which opened onto the garden, the work of Lucky.

Mihawk had obviously taken care of the decoration by adding a long table, the unfortunate barbecue in one corner, and a comfortable sofa in the other. Since Sabo and Luffy had joined them, toys were lying around everywhere.

However, it was not on the sofa that Mihawk settled down. He preferred to sit on the first step of the stairs, his back against a post, and his gaze lost towards their garden. It too was in the image of their family: a vegetable garden faced a large swimming pool and a playground - a slide, two swings and a house - were at the bottom of the garden.

Looking at the life they had built here, Mihawk wondered, not for the first time, why he and Shanks had wanted to move. This house had been theirs since they adopted Ace, and sure, it had gotten smaller as the boys had grown, but it was still their home. Mihawk didn't want to move anymore now that Shanks was gone. He had to guard the lighthouse...

Before he knew it, Mihawk dialed a familiar number, a number he had dialed a thousand times over the last two months, and pressed his phone to his ear. The withdrawal was worse than yesterday, less than tomorrow, and Mihawk swore that all those idiots who said that time healed all wounds were just that: idiots. His wound wasn't healing, it was getting worse and if he couldn't hurt himself, then only one thing could ease the pain.

"Hey. Are you okay...?" Shanks asked happily through the phone, he paused to give Mihawk time to speak, but the old man knew better and didn't answer. "Fine, I'm fine too...."

There was another pause, shorter this time, and Mihawk's hand shook, his grip on his phone loosening as his husband's amused laugh rang in his ear.

"Oh sorry, you're on my voicemail! I'll call you back when I have time or if I don't forget, unless it's you, Hawky," Shanks' voice became strangely more tender, less mocking."Then everything you may have heard is wrong, it wasn't me... Probably. I'll see you soon, baby."

"Liar," Mihawk whispered, sniffling to chase away the tears. He pressed the end call button, knowing that Shanks would never answer since his phone was lost somewhere at sea. He put the device in his pocket, knowing that calling again would do more harm than good.

Instead, Mihawk looked up at the stars, his head against the post, his heart nothing more than an empty hole, and he begged, "Please, Shanks, come home."

***

Mihawk was reasonably tired a few hours later as he waited with other parents in the town square. He stood a little further away from the group of parents who were impatiently waiting for their children to return. Mihawk didn't want to answer their question "No, my husband is still missing", "yes, everything is fine", "yes, the children are brave" - while the sight of the happy couples made him nauseous. Husbands were laughing with each other, wives were sharing pautins, and most couples were holding hands.

Usually it would have been Shanks who picked up the kids. He was an extrovert who loved talking to literally everyone. Mihawk imagined his husband only too well among the crowd, laughing with the other men, checking in on the women, and recounting the boys' latest exploits with pride.

Except the habit had been destroyed by a storm and Mihawk found himself alone, waiting for his sons away from the crowd. He had put on his Ray-Bans to hide the shadows under his eyes, wanting to avoid prying questions at all costs. At least she made him look mysterious enough that no one dared to talk to him. The other speakers only knew him as "Shanks' Husband" anyway.

So, Mihawk was surprised when someone dared to approach him.

"Hey, Hawkeyes. Glad to see you here!"

Is it so surprising that I came for my sons? Mihawk wondered sarcastically, rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses. His head had been killing him since a migraine had set in at sunrise and Mihawk really didn't want to talk to a clown, literally.

Still, Buggy was his brother-in-law and Mihawk had to at least be courteous to him, "What do you want?"

"Nothing," the man with long blue hair replied nervously, "I was around and I was missing my nephews. I'm surprised you let them go to camp."

Mihawk shrugged, "Shanks put them on the list and the kids like to sleep in plastic tents among wild animals."

"It’s good for them to get away from home a little."

Mihawk thought back to the arguments he had with Ace and Sabo because the two boys had flatly refused to leave. In a private conversation, Rayleigh had managed to get them to admit that they didn't want to leave their father alone. The old crook had managed to convince the boys to go to summer camp by promising that Mihawk wouldn't be alone for a month. And then, when it was time for them to leave, it was Luffy who refused to leave, clinging desperately to Mihawk. The father had wondered when the youngest of his sons would understand what the trip meant another separation even if it had a deadline and Mihawk was only a call away. He still managed to get Luffy on the bus thanks to Sabo and Ace.

Certainly, Rayleigh and Beckman had harassed him on an almost daily basis, even resorting to vile tricks by dispatching Shakky or Makino. When it wasn't his father or his husband's best friend, then it was Croc, Dolfy and Boa who were bothering him - even Jinbe had gotten involved, which had become quite annoying. However, when night fell, Mihawk had been left alone with Chopper and his nightmares.

However, Mihawk wouldn't admit these details to Buggy and he shrugged again, "I guess."

Buggy didn't need to know that Mihawk had just spent the worst month of his life worrying about his sons' safety. The logical part of his brain knew that this wasn't the boys' first summer camp and that he could trust the school to bring them back. However, Mihawk had just lost his husband during a supposedly harmless trip and he couldn't help but worry. that and the house had been frighteningly empty and silent for the last month without Shanks to keep him company.

But the month was over, the boys were minutes away and the house was once again getting extremely loud with arguments and fights.

"Are the boys okay?" Buggy asked hesitantly as he faced Mihawk's terseness. The swordsman had always scared him since their first meeting a long time ago. Until now, they had only agreed for Shanks' well-being. Except the redhead was no longer there and neither of them knew how to interact with the other.

"They are doing their best to keep moving forward."

There was a short silence as Buggy waited for Mihawk to elaborate, but the elder had finished speaking. He coughed, gathered his courage, and asked, "Wouldn't it be better if you gave them the chance to move on?"

"Move on?" Mihawk repeated in a cold voice as his headache worsened, "from their father?"

Buggy scoffed at an explanation, but the older boy beat him to it, "choose your next words with great care or it will be your funeral that the boys will attend."

"I, well…," Mihawk crossed his arms across his chest menacingly and Buggy had no choice but to admit, "I have debts to repay a-and it would be easier if I could touch Shanks' inheritance. He would agree if he was here..."

Mihawk felt a vein throbbing in his forehead, his headache worsened, and he closed his hands into tight fists, "except Shanks isn't here."

"Hawkeyes…"

"No, I don't know what bad deal you've gotten yourself into, Buggy, but that's not my problem. In fact, put my children in danger and it will be me your biggest problem. So you better never mention Shanks' legacy again."

Buggy's fear turned to anger and his face turned comically red, "I'm your family, Hawkeyes! You could..."

"No," Mihawk cut in when he saw the school bus arrive, "go away, Buggy. I don't want them to see you when you're only interested in their father's legacy."

Mihawk's anger disappeared as quickly as it had appeared when he saw Ace, Sabo, and Luffy jump out of the bus. Their faces filled with worry for a second before they spotted Mihawk and they ran towards him, their smiles dazzling. He felt more alive than ever when they jumped on him, nearly knocking him over, but Mihawk held on and tightened his arms around them.

As the infernal trio argued over who should explain one of their multiple adventures to him first, Mihawk smiled in recognition and put Buggy from his mind.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5. I'm fine, not really.

Mihawk knew it was never a good sign when Rayleigh looked at him worriedly.

The last time since this nightmare had started was when he and Shanks announced that they were married and were going to officially adopt Ace. Rayleigh had reason to worry since Shanks had turned 21 a day before and was busy remodeling his father's business with his best friend. He had judged that they were not ready to handle a four-year-old child, but they had anticipated this reaction and had not let it deter them.

In less than a year, they had adopted two other terrors.

The time before that was when Mihawk was almost 21 and he admitted to his father about self-harm. Admitting that he had a problem -that he wasn't that perfect- hadn't been easy, the warm hand in his had helped greatly. He had expected judgment, for Ray to be disappointed that his son wasn't as multitasking as he thought, and to be compared to the perfect Boa. So, Mihawk had not anticipated Rayleigh's worry, his sadness at having been oblivious to his son's pain, and the tight hug from which he had struggled to escape; Unsure if he really wanted to escape.

The first time, Mihawk was 12 years old, the age of Ace and Sabo today, and Rayleigh explained to him that his mother had left during the night, without saying goodbye, and that she was not coming back: there would be no shared custody like other parents who divorced.

Mihawk blinked, disoriented and groggy. He looked around, expecting to have fallen asleep on the living room couch again, but the room wasn't quite the same. Smaller, a large desk dominated the room, and shelves bent under the weight of files. Once again, he could have been at home, asleep on the couch in his office, but it wasn't set up the same way. Either way, the couch beneath him was too poorly made to be something he would have picked out and bought. Which meant Mihawk had fallen asleep at work.

However, his father's blue eyes filled with concern told him that it couldn't be that simple. Especially since Mihawk didn't remember lying on his couch.

Mihawk tried to get up but failed miserably in the face of a particularly powerful dizziness. It was only then that Mihawk registered the migraine that hammered his brain and the fatigue that weighed down his limbs. What had happened to restful sleep? Mihawk felt even worse than before his nap.

Big hands helped him sit up properly before a bottle of water was roughly shoved into his hands with a gruff 'drink up, you'll feel better'. Mihawk should feel insulted that the cork had already been removed, but he took advantage of the easy access to drink 3/4 of the bottle in one gulp.

"We'll have to go over the basics," Rayleigh muttered in disbelief at his son's behavior. He settled back into the office chair before saying, "congratulations, you passed out at your job. I hope your carefree behavior earns you a little bonus at the end of the year."

Mihawk growled at the sarcastic remark but didn't respond, too busy finishing drinking the water like the thirsty man he apparently was. At least his headache went down a notch, allowing him to think about his current situation.

He had passed out, which would make sense since he didn't remember falling asleep or having such a headache a few hours ago.

The timeline of the rest of the day fell into place easily: he'd had a meeting early in the afternoon with the rest of his colleagues and had already felt bad before, but the feeling had gotten worse gradually until he had to get up to make his presentation to his colleagues. A slight dizziness had destabilized him when he stood up but he had shaken it off. Or at least that's what he thought because the dizziness had returned in full force when the light from the projector blinded him. Mihawk had recognized the signs of fainting but ignored them: his vision had blurred until he could no longer see his power point and a buzzing noise had replaced his colleagues' questions. Mihawk had taken a step forward to show something, but he had tripped and... and... and, well, he was unable to tell the rest.

He had obviously been caught by the nearest Shichibukai and carried to his office. At least he didn't wake up in the hospital, but the whole floor must have witnessed the scene... awesome.

He looked toward his father before understanding and he sighed: "I knew Boa would play spy for you."

"She's worried about you-"

"-no point," Mihawk countered before Rayleigh could finish, earning him a bad look.

"And me too," Rayleigh finished.

"I am..."

This time, it was the old man who beat him to it: "Don’t you dare say you’re fine."

"...well, I'm still alive, no need to worry."

"I wouldn't call what you're doing 'living'," Rayleigh countered, his frown deepening by the second, "you're barely surviving and only for the boys."

At the mention of the trio, Mihawk automatically went defensive, crossing his arms over his chest and responding in a harsh voice, "They're fine. Their grades are on par with last year. Ace beat up with another kid who insulted Sabo two weeks ago. Luffy got a notice for talking too much, again. And Sabo entered a word competition."

Taking care of the boys during the summer holidays had been easy since Mihawk had his holidays in July - supposed to be the same period as Shanks's - and the boys had been at summer camp in August.

Except that since September and the return to school, Mihawk did his best to do the work of two so that the boys' daily lives remained unchanged. He didn't want Ace, Sabo, and Luffy to have to sacrifice their hobbies because Shanks wasn't there anymore. Thus, Mihawk managed alone the homework and evening meals, taking them to school, their extra-curricular activities, and their friends while continuing his work and giving himself new constraints.

Mihawk was doing his best, which most of the time was not enough - in his opinion. Mihawk knew he was putting pressure on himself but he wanted the fort to be perfect when Shanks returned. And then, he used to manage the three boys, from school to their hobbies, and his work when Shanks went on a trip. This situation was nothing new, but instead of being a sprint as usual - a big effort with a long break behind it - it was an endurance race. If Mihawk had become the best swordsman in the world it was because he hated running. So, he did his best to manage the tasks over a long period of time: do the shopping in the drive-thru, favor pre-prepared meals more often, and give the boys more autonomy. He had even bought Ace and Sabo two phones before their birthdays to be easier to reach in case of problems.

"That's great," Rayleigh replied with a smile because he loved hearing from his grandchildren -especially now they could send him messages on their own-, but his smile quickly faded, "but I'm not questioning your education. When have you done anything for yourself lately?"

Mihawk dug into his memories before shrugging when none came to mind. He remembered reading excessively in August, finally finishing his pile of books to read now that Shanks was no longer there to bother him, except that he hadn't read a page since the beginning of September.

Moreover, his only human interactions were here, at work, except that Mihawk avoided them as much as possible by locking himself in his office or favoring teleworking. If he could write his files at home, then he would choose this option and let his secretary take care of conversations with clients. He couldn't remember the last times he had a drink with his work colleagues or went shopping with Boa. In recent months, Mihawk had been forced to withdraw into his family and most of the time it was his choice since he could no longer stand the sight of happy couples or having to force a smile.

"Mihawk...," Rayleigh sighed disapprovingly.

"It's not that bad," he tried to downplay, "I've never been interested in social interactions anyway."

"Except it's not just that, is it? You haven't come to the gym in two months. Shanks's boys say you fell asleep at the last barbecue and barely ate. You worried the crew enough for Beck to call me. I talked to your colleagues when you were asleep and they say you're weird with them too. The one in pink has already planned a whole crazy plan just for you to threaten to cut him in two. So what's going on, kid? I know losing Shanks is hard, harder for you than anyone else. But from there to not sleeping, not training, and shit, when did you eat the last time?"

Mihawk felt his cheeks burn that horrid pink color as he admitted, "Last night, a little."

Predictably, Rayleigh cursed and looked at him with even more worry than before. Mihawk expected to be scolded, but instead Rayleigh retrieved a package from the desk and handed it to him. The package was long, not thick, and wrapped in cellophane: a sandwich. Mihawk recognized his usual and began to eat under the inquisitive gaze of his father. He wanted to say he wasn't a little kid, the plaque with his name on the desk should be enough to prove it, but responsible adults didn't pass out in the middle of a meeting, so he ate silently.

The sandwich was half gone when Rayleigh finally lectured Mihawk, and it was worse than he had expected. He wanted his father to yell at him, but that was when Ray was angry. There, the old man was just disappointed and worried: "I know that you will not make Shanks' death official until you have irrefutable proof of his death. You trust your instinct because it never gave you up and that's honorable. I'm so fucking proud to have raised a force of nature like you, son. You take every blow nature throws at you without complaining and you get back up every time because that's who you are. So asking for help is a weakness for you, especially now that the only person you relied on is gone. The boys told me you were holding the fort and I'm not sure what that means, but you have to let us help you. Relieving you isn't a weakness and Shansk won't blame you."

"That's not it," Mihawk began, placing the last of his sandwich on the coffee table in front of him, "I can handle it, but..." he sighed before admitting, "Shanks and I promised to find a bigger house so that the boys each have a room. Shanks' disappearance made them forget this promise, but since their return from summer camp, they have not stopped arguing about changing the organization of the rooms. Ace and Sabo both want a room alone and Luffy, well, he follows them... And since I don't want to move without Shanks, well, I started converting the basement into a studio..."

Mihawk was roughly cut off by Rayleigh's amused and genuine laugh, "no offense, kid, but you're terrible at manual labor."

"... The work may not be progressing as quickly as I had expected," Mihawk admitted as even his ears burned with shame.

"I taught you how to use a sword not a hammer, Shanks is the handyman... and lucky for you, he has friends who are just as good at DIY. Why didn't you ask them? Beck and the others would have come to help you."

Mihawk shrugged his shoulders, he didn't exactly have the answer to that question even though he had seen Shanks' friends as recently as last Sunday. Yet something had stopped him from saying that he had started work on the house. It was certainly not to avoid their mockery since they were laughing as much as they were drinking - and they were already drinking as much as they were breathing. Fortunately, Mihawk was old enough to defend himself verbally. So maybe Rayleigh was right and Mihawk had feared they would deny him their help. They were Shanks' friends, not his, so they owed him nothing. Besides, Mihawk already felt like he was asking for the moon as they made Shanks' business prosper -especially to avoid being unemployed, but they did it willingly. He did not want to ask them to do work for him because he was unable to know what materials were needed.

It was Shanks who always knew what and how to repair something, whether it was fixing a drawer or building a deck from scratch. Because Rayleigh had taught Mihawk how to be a champion and win shiny medals while Roger and Rouge had taught Shanks how to be self-sufficient : how to cook, how to tinker, and how to repair a car. And since they had moved in, Mihawk had never needed to do any tinker work since Shanks had been the perfect handyman. Mihawk would say he wanted to change something and Shanks readily obliged by ordering his husband to look good and sit down.

"I promised the boys I'd hold the fort until Shanks came back. I guess I wanted to do it alone."

"The fort...," Rayleigh repeated, thinking, "it's not just the house and the kids... Shanks... we both know he wouldn't care if the house burned down while he was gone. He would set it on fire himself if he found out you didn't take care of yourself because of four walls and a roof. The most important thing to him has always been you and the boys. Shanks will be angrier if you’re half dead when he gets home than if you moved."

Deep down, Mihawk knew all of this, but it was hard to hear. He had to take care of himself, even if he didn't want to, and not just for the boys, but for Shanks. It was hard, so hard. However, he should have made an effort, he knew, but instead, he added another burden to himself by modifying the house. So, in addition to the hole in his heart, one had to believe that the pain of the loss had also contorted his mind, preventing him from thinking correctly.

Why was it so hard to be the one left? Ever since Shanks' disappearance, Mihawk had felt like a shadow of his former self. His thoughts were preoccupied with Shanks' memories and of multiple "what ifs" - what if I had held him back? What if Smoker had found Shanks? What if Shanks was dead? Added to this was the mental strain of being the sole parent of three hyperactive terrors and being a lawyer in a major government corporation. Sometimes Mihawk didn't even want to leave his bed and stay sleeping with Chopper until the real world ended since his was lost somewhere at sea. But he kept getting up and moving forward for the boys if not for him.

When Mihawk got up to go to his desk, he was grateful for the sandwich and the bottle of water. He felt better than when he woke up and before that. The headache was still there like a constant reminder that he should take better care of himself, but Mihawk ignored it to grab one of the frames next to his computer. In the photo, Shanks had an arm around Mihawk's shoulders while he held his diploma in his other hand. It was practically the first time Shanks had smiled again since his parents died. The smile was certainly different as a shadow covered Shanks' face, but his eyes sparkled with joy and amusement at finally finishing his studies and having "the second most beautiful man on earth" by his side.

"It's not just the renovations or the house," Mihawk admitted after looking at his happy reflection, "I didn't realize...," he swallowed hard, "I didn't realize how important Shanks was to the running of our family. Usually, he's gone for two or three weeks at most, which isn't long enough for me to realize it. He's forgetful and likes to appear like a happy goof, but I could always count on him. We shared the boys' hobbies, the parent-teacher conferences, and even the chores of the home. He prepared dinner and lunch while I helped the boys with their homework, I cleaned the house and he supervised the baths, or I gardened and he tinkered. It was a 50-50 ratio but now I have to manage everything alone...It's been four months now and the machine is already rusting and breaking. "

"...son," Rayleigh began, ready to repeat his offer to help, but was cut off by Mihawk who had not finished unpacking what he had been holding back for so long.

"And if only that's all it was... I can't think of anything other than Shanks despite all my other responsibilities. I force myself to eat most of the time but I have no appetite anymore. If I haven't forgotten to eat, then I don't finish any meals because I always have something else to do even here at work. And I-I'm unable to sleep. I haven't had a full night in four months, either I'm thinking too much, or different versions of Shanks are waking me up."

"You miss him, it’s normal that you think about him."

"But it's never a good dream where he holds me in his arms and promises to come back," without realizing it, Mihawk began to play with Shanks' wedding ring and continued, "no, every times, I fail him. I can't catch him, I can't save him, or bring him back to me. He's so close every time, but I can't... I can't... a-and he... he falls every time..., so out of reach..."

Mihawk jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder, the frame fell from his hands, but Rayleigh caught it and put it back on the desk, "it wasn't your fault, son. This accident is terrible for you and your family, but it doesn't have to break you. You can get through this."

"How?" he asked, desperate.

"Let me help you, okay? I'll call Doctor Trafalgar this afternoon and explain your case to him. He'll prescribe some sleeping pills for you. But over time, you come back to train at the gym with me while Beck and Makino take care of the boys."

"I can't ask them that...," Mihawk began, still unsure of asking for help and receiving it so easily.

"You don't ask them, they offer. Beck and Makino like taking care of boys and they know how to handle them for all the times Shanks left them at their front door. The terrors will be fine," Rayleigh promised, squeezing gently on Mihawk's shoulder, "and, anyway, they're already there."

"What?"

Just then, someone knocked on the door. It was just to keep up appearances in front of Rayleigh as Croc and Dolfy entered without invitation, "we're kidnapping you for the rest of the evening."

Mihawk didn't have time to refuse or point out that he still had work to do as Dolfy had already grabbed his wrist to 'kidnap' him to Rayleigh's mocking laughter.

He was grateful that his friends had chosen a bar rather than an extravagant nightclub that Crocodile and Doflamingo knew every secret of. Instead, they had opted for a cozy and friendly place due to its size, not big enough to be stuffy, not small enough to go unnoticed. This choice was probably induced by the presence of Boa waiting for them at a table.

His fainting earlier fortunately went unmentioned, although Mihawk was forced to drink a glass of water before one of wine was slipped into his hand and Croc ordered more food than necessary. It was strange that his colleagues were caring for him, but it was implied enough that Mihawk didn't feel offended.

So, he took on the challenge of beating Dolfy in a game of darts, which he won easily. As the bad player he was, Dolfy challenged him to a game of billiards and the group commandeered a table. Very quickly, competition prevailed over friendship since the one who lost first paid a round. Once again, Mihawk didn't pay much. They really thought they would beat him while he had a stick in his hand?

Mihawk rolled up his sleeves to win the game in the best conditions and felt the gaze of all his colleagues divert to his wrists. They weren't exactly subtle as their eyes moved from wrist to wrist to examine his scars. They were about fifteen years old and were nothing more than white lines, practically invisible to those who did not know. But they knew, Boa as his half-sister had seen them at their worst, while Mihawk had told his two friends about it. Yet, this was the first time they'd worried about whether or not he'd do it again since Shanks disappeared, probably because they'd forgotten until he passed out and Rayleigh asked them to discreetly check.

Too bad for them, they will have nothing to tell the old crook.

To draw his comrades' attention away from his wrists and warn them not to do it again, Mihawk raised an eyebrow at Dolfy and mockingly said, "Don't even think about breaking my wrists to win."

"Not even one?" Dolfy replied with a loud laugh.

In the fourth game, Dolfy cheated by distracting Croc with his hand and tongue, and Mihawk and Boa made the wise decision to leave. They didn't want to witness what might happen next. The brother just had time to finish his drink before being dragged towards the dance floor by the sister.

They moved together on the small, crowded dance floor. Their bodies rubbed together to the rhythm of the fast music. Boa danced without caring about the looks she got, and Mihawk glared at anyone who wanted to look a little too closely. Fortunately or not, most of the drunk souls thought he was the overprotective boyfriend rather than the big brother and they kept their distance.

Despite his guard duty, dancing helped Mihawk relax and shake off the energy he had been holding inside for weeks. Mihawk was not made for inaction and to remain confined between four walls, he needed to spread his wings. Usually, Mihawk preferred to hit something, dancing would have to do the trick he supposed.

Mihawk jumped and was about to commit murder when a hand grabbed his hip and a closed chest pressed against his back. By paying too much attention to Boa's suitors, he had not paid attention to his own, wrongly thinking that his alliance would serve as a protective shield. But Mihawk felt the cold steel of a hook against his other hip and recognized the smell of expensive cigars.

"How are you?" A deep voice asked in his ear.

Mihawk smiled before turning around to face Crocodile, "I'll be fine if we don't get caught. Blondie won't be jealous?"

"He is flirting with the bartender instead of ordering drinks," his friend replied indifferently, although his gray eyes were fixed on the bar.

"I see you're using me again to make him jealous," Mihawk mocked before wrapping his arms around Croc's thick neck. He tried to feel something like a surge of excitement but nothing came even though he was slightly drunk. Mihawk didn't know if there was something broken inside him or if any feelings he had once had for the older man had vanished forever. But again, Mihawk was too drunk to think twice about it. He'd been in this position, and much worse, with Croc too many times for him to worry, "I feel like we're back to college when we shared an apartment and you did everything to enrage Dolfy."

"I never heard you complain back then, especially when we weren't pretending."

"I was young," Mihawk replied with a smirk when he thought back to his years studying at Shin Sekai and how he got to know his roommate, "and stupid," he added because he loved annoying Crocodile.

"You started it," Croc reminded, growling slightly.

Mihawk chuckled at his younger self's behavior. He was sixteen years old and shared a small apartment with a man four years older than him. Crocodile who was already quite handsome with his bad boy vibe – it wasn’t just a vibe- and defined muscles. Obviously, Mihawk had tried his luck and, even more obviously, Croc had responded favorably. They hadn't dated, not exactly. At the time, Mihawk only came home for rare weekends or school holidays since his schedule was divided between high school and his competitions, so Croc was just a way to break the routine and the solitude. They shared late-night meals, watched movies together, and were each other's means of decompression. Otherwise, they had never had a date outside their small apartment, Croc had never come to applaud him at a competition - although the older one knew how to congratulate - and Mihawk had never dissuaded him from stopping his shady activities.

"And it was you who ended our relationship," Mihawk replied without the slightest trace of reproach. Their "breakup" was in the past and Mihawk had long since moved on.

"I was trying to be a gentleman instead of taking advantage of a young idiot," Crocodile scoffed before worry flashed in his eyes, "are you feeling nostalgic tonight?"

"No."

The older man raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, "so you missed me?"

"In your dreams maybe, but I've found myself thinking lately about Shanks, our past, and what I could have done differently," Mihawk hesitated before looking up to meet Croc's worried gaze, "I wondered what would have happened to us if you had never met Dolfy. Do you think I would have still gone out with Shanks anyway?"

"I would have destroyed you, little bird," Crocodile replied without the slightest hesitation. "Our relationship was nice because we were young and free to do what we wanted. It wouldn't have lasted. You would have wanted more and I would have resisted, so much so that we would have fought."

"I was stronger than you."

"Physically, that's a certainty. But there are other ways to hurt someone and I knew all your weaknesses. At least we never had to come to that and we both…," Croc looked towards Dolfy who was still flirting with the bartender and corrected himself at the last second, "you found someone better while I'm stuck with this thing."

Mihawk laughed, "birds of a feather flock together, don't they?"

"See? A cheeky little shit..."

Suddenly, a large shadow loomed over them and Mihawk couldn't help but smile when he noticed Dolfy behind them. Their friend must have seen them dancing together and got jealous, "I know someone who's going to be in trouble," Mihawk sang before walking away from Crocodile and the dance floor to return to their table.

At least Dolfy had dropped off their new tour there before rushing onto the dance floor to grumble at Croc. Mihawk leaned against the table as he drank his drink alone. His gaze remained fixed on the dance floor where Boa was dancing with a stranger and where Croc was trying to appease Dolfy. At least that was an amusing sight.

Suddenly, Mihawk felt bad and he knew that he had drunk more than he should to forget his responsibilities and Shanks' absence. So he ordered a glass of water from the bar, but his vision was still blurry and his walking hesitant, and Mihawk decided that some fresh air would do him the world of good - it couldn't be worse.

His two friends and his sister being busy, Mihawk left without warning them.

Sure, the fresh air helped calm his alcohol-soaked nerves slightly and his skin cooled slightly, but Mihawk still felt strangely ill. So much so that he left the crowded sidewalk for the small alley next to the bar. He needed five minutes and then he would be better, Mihawk was sure of that. However, the five minutes passed too quickly and Mihawk wasn't much better, even worse. So much so that he wondered if something had been slipped into his glass.

With this idea in mind, Mihawk forced himself to leave the wall against which he was leaning to reach the bar and warn his companions. He staggered and a dizziness almost made him fall, but Mihawk refused to faint twice in the same day and he forced his legs to cooperate.

He almost left the alley when two large shadows blocked his path. Mihawk blinked, but the shadows were not a figment of his imagination. They were men, tall and muscular, intimidating, but Mihawk was still the best swordsman in the world and he didn't intend to cower in fear in front of anyone.

"Get out," he ordered in an imperial voice.

Except that instead of trembling in fear, they laughed, as if Mihawk was not a threat. In this state, he wouldn't even scare a kitten and they knew. They knew because they...

"Look what we have here," sneered the taller of the two.

"Looks like he's lost, we should help him, right?"

Mihawk felt the air charged with electricity as the danger in the form of these two men approached and forced him to move away into the darkness where no one would see or hear them.

"Hey, I have a joke," said the second one, but who was closest to Mihawk, "how do you beat a swordsman?"

The first pretended to hesitate before answering, "I don't know."

"With a fist," replied the smaller one who, without warning, punched Mihawk in the face.

Later Mihawk would be ashamed of his ridiculous reaction time and useless reflexes. For now, he was just grateful that he had managed to steady himself against the wall so as not to fall. The joker tried to hit him again, except Mihawk was prepared this time and he managed to dodge the blow. Not only that, but he returned the punch he received. Except he wasn't just anyone like those two, he was Mihawk 'Hawkeyes' Silvers-Gold, and one day, a long time ago, his name had meant something, and no matter what his two attackers thought, it was still worth something.

So the smaller one fell to the ground, his nose bleeding and a bruise already forming on his cheek.

The taller one got angry and Mihawk was punched in the stomach this time. He tried to struggle but failed. No matter how strong he was, Mihawk was still alone and there were two of them. Above all, he had been drugged and they were perfectly healthy. So the fight was unequal from the start because they wanted it to be.

All too soon, Mihawk found himself pushed against the dirty wall of the alley and one of his attackers - he didn't know which one at this point - towering over him. Before he could do anything to free himself, the second attacker moved closer into Mihawk's private space and asked his partner, "Do you know how to silence a swordsman?"

"I know," replied the other with a smirk that promised nothing good.

For good reason, the attacker moved his face - he had green eyes, a large nose, and two hairs on his chin - forward enough for his intention to kiss Mihawk to be clear. Except there was only one person who had that right and, drugged or not, Mihawk didn't plan on being a victim or cheating on his husband. Then he headbutted his opponent hard enough to see stars. The crunch was satisfying despite the retaliation that followed and Mihawk certainly didn't regret it - his ribs didn't agree.

Before they could get even more revenge or one of them try to kiss him again - or worse - three new shadows appeared at the edge of the alley. Mihawk smiled through his split lip as his attackers slowly let go of him and gulped in fear when they came face to face with a blond-haired psychopath.

"Can I play with your friends, Hawky?" Dolfy asked, licking his lower lip.

Mihawk, who stood against the wall with his arm cradling his injured ribs, looked towards his attackers who were practically shaking in fear but felt no empathy towards them, "they're not my friends. Have fun."

Dolfy laughed before taking a step forward towards the two men who were no longer so tall as they were forced back further into the alley.

Until the blond's next actions were hidden by the darkness.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6. Making the magic of Christmas flourish

Two days later, Mihawk knocked on the door of a familiar apartment.

He waited a full five minutes before the owner opened the door for him. He had long, disheveled blue hair, only wore boxers, and yawned for a long time even though it was already midday. He couldn't help but roll his eyes at this immature behavior. No 29 year old adult should sleep until noon on a Monday except for rare exceptions, a party was not one of them.

Buggy visibly tensed upon discovering who was at his front door. He shouldn't have expected Mihawk to ever knock on his door willingly - that is, without Shanks around. Unless it was his appearance that terrified the youngest. It had to be said that Mihawk looked quite shaken despite the three-piece suit he was wearing. His lip was split, his nose was red, and a bruise was taking time to fade from his cheek.

His injuries had been an ordeal to explain to Ace and Sabo - Luffy easily believed that his father had walked through a door - but they ended up believing him when he lied about having participated in a - more or less legal - fight organized by Rayleigh. Mihawk would rather the boys think he was 'cool' for defying the law than know the truth. Only a restricted circle knew that Mihawk had ingested GHB and had almost been raped by two idiots. Most were his family, the last one was a nuisance.

"Close the door," he ordered, pushing Buggy out of the way and back into the apartment. Every time he entered this apartment, Mihawk felt like multiple paint bombs had exploded and, once again, the analogy struck him. Shanks would proudly say that his brother was an artist whenever Mihawk criticized the place, but his husband was no longer there to give him a subtle nudge for him to stop frowning in disgust. Except

Mihawk couldn't stop his fingers from trembling to collect detergent and clean the dirty room.

Buggy coughed as he noticed the golden eyes judging his newest painting, "what can I do for you, dear brother-in-law?"

"I wanted to know how much it would take for you to leave me alone?"

"Wh-what?" Buggy stammered, his cheeks as red as his nose as the accusation seemed to wake him up completely.

"You know what I mean," Mihawk replied, throwing the photo he had received this morning at his office onto the coffee table. The photograph was of poor quality since it had been taken at night, but Mihawk was clearly pinned against a wall, with a man threatening to kiss him.

At least Buggy tried to look innocent as his eyes widened in surprise bu seeing the photo. Except that Mihawk didn't give him time to find an answer. He wasn't here to know why, he just wanted to get rid of this problem.

"I-I…what…"

"Now, I don't want to hear your excuses," Mihawk cut in coldly, turning his dull gaze on Buggy who froze in fear, "and I think I know why you would hire two gorillas to attack me. You wanted your share of Shanks' insurance, but I refused it to you for which you took revenge. So, how much?"

Buggy looked back at the photo as if he finally understood what was happening, and he stuttered, "h-how much, what?"

"How much are your debts?" Mihawk replied, rolling his eyes in annoyance. He was not even surprised by the exorbitant sum -250,000 berries- and wrote double the amount on the check. He handed it to Buggy, but didn't let it go because he had a message to send, "you better use that money wisely."

"Yes, Hawkeyes."

"Since you're an idiot, I'm going to explain to you what you're going to do: repay your debts, pay the circus administrators, and get very, very far away. I don't want to see you anymore, nor hear from you until the holidays. You'll come and eat at our house at Christmas and New Year and I'd be a great host because you're Shanks' brother and the boys like you."

Buggy nodded and he pulled on the check to collect it, but Mihawk wasn't finished:

"Try to bully me for money again and I swear to God I'll hit you so hard you'll beg me to stop."

Mihawk smiled as Buggy swallowed and finally, he let go of the check which the younger cradled against his chest. He shook his head as he found his brother-in-law's behavior pathetic. Really, when he had chosen to marry Shanks, Mihawk had forgotten that Buggy was part of the starter pack since he had always considered Rouge his mother, Roger was his weird uncle, and Ace was now literally his son.

"Take care of yourself," he said mockingly before leaving Buggy to gush alone over the little half a million berries he had just obtained.

Days passed without Mihawk receiving any more photographs, a sign that his message had gotten through. He allowed himself to breathe - really breathe - when Buggy posted photos of himself far from East Blue on Instagram. His brother-in-law may have been an idiot, but he had a strong sense of survival and had made the right decision by following the lawyer's advice.

With the problem resolved, Mihawk returned to his daily life without worrying about being followed. He resumed his role as a lonely father raising three over-energetic boys. However, his daily life was made easier when he began to unload the multiple burdens he had been carrying since Shanks' disappearance.

So, the following Sunday during the meal organized at Lucky's - the barbecues had been replaced by seasonal family dishes - Mihawk spoke of his secret project of transforming part of the cellar into a studio for Ace's birthday. Predictably, Shanks' best friends burst out laughing and, like Rayleigh before them, more or less gently reminded him that he was bad at tinkering.

"Forget I asked," he said nonchalantly, playing with the wine glass in his hand to hide that their refusal had upset him, "I can always pay a contractor."

Mihawk was taken aback when all three stopped laughing to look at him with a seriousness that was rare among them.

"Don't insult us, Hawkeyes," Yasopp replied angrily.

"We would shame our Captain if we abandoned you now," Lucky continued to support his friend even though his mouth was still full of meat.

Beck chuckled softly at his two companions being so defensive and he pulled his feet off the table to get Hawkeyes' attention and said accusingly, "You knew damn well what you were getting yourself into by marrying Shanks."

Mihawk raised an eyebrow at that, "meaning?"

"He's our favorite idiot, our brother, and you married him so you're stuck with us. We're here for whatever you need."

Mihawk sipped his drink to hide his smile. His last altercation with Buggy had made him forget that Shanks' best friends were also part of the starter pack. He knew, however, that these four were inseparable for reasons he was completely unaware of. Lucky, Beck and Yasopp had many flaws that Mihawk barely tolerated - smoking for example - but he respected and admired their loyalty. Loyalty that he, without knowing how or why, also benefited from. Mihawk knew that the "you married Shanks" was just an excuse, Buggy was their Captain's brother yet they weren't so inclined to lend him money, but it was an intention that he appreciated.

"So," Beck began, crossing his arms over his chest, "what should we do?"

Mihawk finished his drink before following Rayleigh's advice and letting himself be helped.

He explained the situation in detail: the boys who were driving him crazy fighting day and night to sleep alone, his idea for a birthday present for Ace, and the many complications he had encountered so far. Maybe turning the basement into a bedroom wasn't as simple as he'd thought. Except the trio were renovation professionals and, before he knew it, his glass was refilled and Beck had already drawn Ace's new room on a white sheet.

Beck, Yasopp, and Lucky were more than excited about the project, delighted to be able to offer a beautiful gift to their nephew. So much so, that Yasopp had already sent a message to Limejuice to create a mural with flames. They went even further by imagining the rooms of the other two boys since Sabo was going to move into Ace's current room and Luffy was going to keep his.

They had barely finished imagining Luffy's when the youngest ran into the kitchen, "daaaaad!," he shouted laughing as Yasopp's son chased him. Except his shoes were muddy and he slipped on the ground, barely catching himself with one hand on Mihawk's thigh, "Dad!"

"Yes?" he asked, looking away from the trails of mud that Luffy had left behind to look into his son's excited eyes; he should not forget to clean up before leaving.

"We built a castle with Uncle Lucky’s cardboard boxes, do you want to see?"

Mihawk wanted to refuse for the sake of his newly patent leather shoes, but he knew that usually, Luffy would have asked Shanks to follow him and he already knew what his husband's response would have been. So, Mihawk decided that his son was worth the sacrifice and he let the energetic boy guide him towards the garden.

"You know they're going to attack us, right?" asked Yasopp behind him; Usopp had convinced him to come too, except that the two boys hadn't waited for them to return to their castle.

"Obviously, but I plan to use you as a shield to save myself."

Yasopp laughed, "you really are a cruel man, Hawkeyes."

Hawkeyes' smile was genuine as he opened the door leading to the garden, the castle and the 'surprise' attack that awaited them.

***

In the snap of a finger, autumn had given way to winter. Mihawk still had a hard time believing it, but all he had to do was look at the leafless trees, the colorful parkas hanging on the coat rack, and the thermostat indicating temperatures near 0° Celsius, to realize that he was waiting for Shanks to return since seven months now. He felt like the days were passing agonizingly slowly, each hour an ordeal to endure without the redhead's texts - like he couldn't wait until he got home to talk to Mihawk - but he hadn't noticed the months passing with no way back.

His daily life had improved significantly now that Mihawk allowed his family to help him. He no longer had to bend over backward to satisfy his sons' needs since Makino picked up the boys from school in his place and kept them at the bar with her for an hour. It was a win-win situation for everyone since Mihawk could use the alone time to clean the house, the boys enjoyed helping Makino and spending time with Shakky - the bar owner -, and Makino hoped Beck would wake up one day.

"Perhaps he will decide to have his own children after seeing me with the trio," she had shared with a knowing wink the only day Mihawk had thanked her. Makino was a lovely and helpful woman, and he only hoped the best for her.

Above all, the surprise was finished when the calendar indicated Christmas Day. Mihawk had to change plans since Shanks' comrades were more effective than expected. Beck, Yasopp, and Lucky had easily recovered from the disaster he had started in the cellar and in two months, had been able to renovate the other two rooms so that they reflected the worlds of Luffy and Sabo. So, Ace's birthday surprise became the three boys' Christmas presents. Either way, there was no way the boys wouldn't know what was going on since they had been camped out in the living room for the past three weeks - much to Mihawk's delight, of course.

So, on Christmas Day, Mihawk barely managed to force Ace, Sabo and Luffy to wait for their guests to arrive before discovering their new rooms. They had been harassing him daily for the past three weeks and Mihawk had now officially gone mad. The day before, he had given in so that they opened their other Christmas presents in order to gain an hour of peace while they raved about their respective skateboards, encyclopedias, and board games.

He even had to sleep with them in the living room to make sure no one would sneak upstairs. Hiis back would thank him later for sleeping on a mattress on the floor, but his head didn't care because it was so filled with an unforgettable memory - only marred by Shanks' absence.

So, once Rayleigh and Shakky, Buggy - who had arrived five minutes before noon so as not to arouse Mihawk's anger -, Beck and Makino, Yasopp, Bankina and Usopp, and Lucky had all arrived and the last gifts had been distributed and opened, Mihawk decided to stop the torture. He and his sidekicks took the boys to the doors of their new rooms: Luffy on one side - plus Usopp - and Sabo and Ace on the other.

The two elders were already sulking even though they hadn't yet opened their doors, "why does Luffy have the room alone?"

"We're older than him! We need more intimacy," Ace added, crossing his arms over his chest, "and I don't want to share my room."

"Me neither," Sabo confirmed, imitating his brother.

"It’s because I’m dad’s favorite!" said Luffy, whose smile could not express his pride more explicitly at having won their bet.

"You’re not!" contradicted Sabo and Ace at the same time before bickering together over who was Mihawk's favorite.

Knowing that their bickering could last until the end of the week, Mihawk clapped his hands to get their attention, "my favorite is Chopper so you better go into your rooms and be a little more grateful if you don’t want to sleep in his kennel outside."

The boys quickly excused themselves knowing it was best not to challenge Mihawk if they didn't actually want to sleep outside and opened the door to their rooms.

Luffy literally jumped for joy when he discovered his room painted a pretty forest green and his new bunk bed with a hiding place underneath rather than his old bed. It wasn't long before he was exploring every corner of his space with Usopp.

Sabo's joy was more muted but clearly visible on his face as he entered his room, which looked more like a library with the shelves Lucky made to hold all the books the boy had stored in boxes so far.

Only Ace was disappointed by the surprise, "there's only one bed," the pre-teen remarked, pointing to the double bed wedged between two shelves.

"Did we forget a room?" Mihawk asked, frowning at Beck.

The oldest shrugged his shoulders, "did you need a third?"

"Dad," Ace complained harshly, stomping his foot on the ground.

"Alright, follow me."

The father, son, and Beck left the first-floor corridor to return to the ground floor, but Mihawk did not stop and guided them to the front of the cellar door. This space was generally forbidden to the boys since they had nothing to do there, so Ace legitimately hesitated at the top of the landing.

"If it’s a joke, it’s not funny."

"Come on, where has your sense of adventure gone?" Mihawk asked with a smirk before motioning for Ace to go down first.

"I left it in Sabo's room," the twelve-year-old muttered before heading down the stairs.

Once at the bottom, they encountered a small corridor of barely a square meter which served as an airlock. The door on the right led to the storage room that Beck and the others had set up to store everything Mihawk wanted to keep in a much smaller space, while the one on the left was for Ace.

"I hope you're not afraid of spiders," Beck warned, sharing a knowing look with Mihawk who ended up opening the door and revealing their surprise to Ace.

For a second, the boy stood frozen at the entrance to his new room as he analyzed each item one by one. If Luffy's room was a mini-forest, Sabo's a library, then Ace's was on fire. Limejuice had done an amazing job of spray-painting flames on the back wall. In fact, Shanks' entire team had outdone themselves, even though they had blown the budget turning the air vent into a window to bring the room up to standard.

"That's what you wanted?" Mihawk asked as Ace remained strangely silent. However, he already knew the answer since he had each piece of decoration not the way he wanted, but the way a pre-teen with a pyromaniac tendency would like. For example, Mihawk hated the industrial cabinet that looked like a school locker and the old leather armchair but he bought them anyway. Because once again, his son's smile was well worth a little decorative sacrifice.

"Hell, yeah," Ace replied with a rare, wide smile.

Ever since Shanks disappeared, Ace's smile, a real, genuine, happy smile, was a rare sight. Without realizing it, Ace had gradually closed in on himself. He still played with Luffy and Sabo and still bickered, but he isolated himself from his other classmates. Teaching him not to hit them at the slightest mention of Shanks had been an ordeal. Besides, Ace pretty much always had headphones in his ears lately and Mihawk didn't know if that was the behavior of a normal pre-teen or if he should be worried. Especially when Ace asked to stop aikido for skateboarding and Mihawk had accepted since his son had fulfilled the specifications they had established with Shanks: he knew how to defend himself and he was still practicing a sport.

So Mihawk cherished this moment, the one where Ace marveled at having a new room suited to his tastes and where he and Beck received a quick thank you hug.

"It's been a long time since he's been this carefree," Beck remarked as he too was mesmerized by the sight of Ace becoming a normal child - practically a teenager - again.

Mihawk nodded before asking, "Can you leave us? I'd like to talk to him."

"You got it, boss," replied the eldest, who far from being hurt by the request, closed the door to give the father and son some privacy.

Mihawk gave Ace plenty of time to explore his room as he settled into the double bed. In the meantime, he looked for a way to start the conversation without being weird or too direct, but couldn't find one. He didn't know how to ask Ace how he was coping with Shanks' disappearance because the teen didn't talk about it. Mihawk knew exactly what Luffy thought about it since the boy expressed his feelings loud and clear, it was harder to ask him to channel himself, and Sabo had bought books on 'how to deal with the loss of a close relative' with his pocket money.

But Ace? The kid had never exploded like his brothers, of whom he had become strangely protective. Sometimes, Mihawk felt like Ace was trying to fill Shanks' vacancy by going beyond his role as big brother and first born. He was grateful for the help the kid gave him every day, but he felt guilty for forcing Ace to grow up so quickly. He was only twelve, soon to be thirteen, and deserved to enjoy his youth.

Mihawk was surprised when Ace sat down in his leather chair and asked him in all seriousness: "We're going to have the conversation, aren't we?"

"The conversation?" Mihawk repeated without being sure he understood.

"Yes, the one where you tell me that it's not the storks that bring the babies to the parents like Dad said."

Hearing this, Mihawk almost choked as he swallowed, "what? No. What did dad say to you?"

"That the storks were bringing babies from a magic factory, but it wasn't very clear so we inquired with Sabo… Well, we know now."

"I knew it was a bad idea to let Shanks explain it to you," Mihawk muttered, placing his hand on his forehead, "he was terrible at science."

"Seriously?" Ace asked curiously.

"Yes, he preferred drawing in his notebooks rather than following his classes, so he retained half and invented the other. For example, he was certain that a tree would grow in his stomach after eating the seed of an Apple."

"How old was he?"

Mihawk hesitated as he searched in his memory, "something like fourteen years old. He was convinced he would become the world's first tree man."

"Luffy could have done the same," Ace remarked with a laugh, although there was a hint of nostalgia in his voice, "they looked a lot alike."

"Looked?" Mihawk repeated, surprised to hear Ace use the past tense to talk about Shanks. It was the first time he heard resignation in the voice of one of his sons.

Ace shrugged, but didn't answer, preferring to play with his thumbs.

"Don't hold back, Ace. I won't argue with you."

"I...I don't want to hurt you," Ace replied softly, so much so that Mihawk almost didn't hear him.

He didn't know what his son was trying to protect him from, but it couldn't be good. He was the father, he was supposed to protect them, not the other way around.

Mihawk put aside his apprehension to focus solely on his first son, "Not knowing what you think will hurt me more. Talk to me, Ace. It's not good to bottle everything up like you do."

"That's what you do," Ace accused angrily. "You keep everything to yourself by excluding us. Sabo and I are grown up, we see and hear things, more than you think. We're a family, you're supposed to be able to count on us too."

"I've never hidden anything from you," Mihawk replied, raising an eyebrow. He had always been as honest as possible with the boys since the beginning of this horrible nightmare. He even told them that the police had found their father's arm by showing the ring.

"That’s wrong, you only tell us what you want."

"Some parts are better kept secret, Ace."

"No," the boy said firmly, standing up to be in front of his father, "you're just deluding us by saying that Dad will come back! He won't. The police found his arm because it is all that's left of him! Except instead of recognizing it you told Luffy and Sabo that he was going to come back! It's not true, he's dead. I know it, Sabo knows it, Beck knows it, everyone knows it, even Buggy, but you refuse to see it!"

"Ace…"

"Say it! Say you lied and that Dad is dead and he's not coming back!"

For the first time in front of his children, Mihawk hesitated. He opened his mouth ready to lie or say what Ace wanted to hear, but he couldn't. Because Ace was right in a way. Mihawk was a liar and he knew it. He was a logical and reasoned man so he knew that Shanks had a better chance of feeding the fish at the bottom of the ocean rather than being alive and searching for them. It had been seven months without any news except for the finding of an arm. So obviously, Mihawk knew, but saying it, even in his head, was impossible.

"Sabo did the probabilities," Ace continued in a shaky voice, "and he said that the percentage chance of Dad being alive is low, almost non-existent."

Faced with Mihawk's silence, the pre-teen added, "Dad's dead."

"No one knows that," Mihawk corrected coldly before placing his hand on Ace's trembling shoulder, "but you're right, it's more likely that Shanks is... dead than alive. But you can't say that in front of Luffy. He's too emotionally fragile to go through this pain. And Sabo, even if he believes he knows, he doesn't know the pain of losing someone close to him. Honestly, I don't know neither. Of all of us, you're the only one who knows the pain of losing parents and no one can begin to understand what you feel."

"I can't….I can't…," Ace stuttered as his brown eyes blurred with tears and his bottom lip trembled as if he was trying to physically stop himself from crying, "...I-I can't lose anyone else. First, Roger and Rouge, and you promised. You promised."

"I know, I'm sorry. This should never have happened."

"It-it was an accident," Ace sniffed away the tears, but they wouldn't go away, and no matter how much he downplayed his pain, it was clearly visible on his face.

Mihawk shook his head before telling one of the truths he had hidden until now, "someone sabotaged the engine of the Red Force, that's why Shanks is no longer with us."

"Did someone kill Dad?" murmured the boy whose eyes were bulging with surprise, the tears finally flowed.

"Yes, but Smoker doesn't know anything else."

Ace shook his head as if refusing to believe that his kind and caring father could have been murdered and a sob left his throat, then another. Mihawk raised his arms in a silent offer of comfort and, against all odds, Ace accepted the hug and clung to him desperately.

"Excuse me, son. I was so focused on my own pain that I didn't see yours."

"Shuddup, dad, you're the best," Ace mumbled through sobs and tears.

Mihawk smiled before playing with Ace's black hair to comfort him and like a kitten, the boy leaned into his touch.

They only separated when they heard a loud 'boom' coming from above followed by a 'daaaaaad' shouted by Luffy. Mihawk stood up resignedly knowing that something was either broken or burned, or both. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ace cleaning the traces of his tears with his t-shirt, "if you tell anyone…"

"I didn't see anything at all," Mihawk replied before leaving the silent room for the chaos of the ground floor.

Admittedly, it had been a strange Christmas as the chair to Mihawk's right had remained empty throughout the meal. The weight of Shanks' absence had weighed on them all at one point or another during the evening. You could see it in the way eyes converged on the empty chair and smiles disappeared for a split second. Shanks should have been there laughing with them, opening bottle after bottle, before slipping off into the living room to play with the boys, which inevitably resulted in Mihawk yelling at the redhead for forgetting to open the bottles.

Thus, Mihawk had done the best he could in the worst possible scenario by being the best host for their families whom he had insisted on inviting like all the previous years to find a semblance of normality. They had eaten and drank, there had been bursts of laughter and arguments -from both children and adults-, and somewhere between ordering Ray and Beck to fight outside and forbidding the children to feed Chopper under the table, Mihawk managed to forget his husband's absence.

The loneliness hit him hard when all the guests had gone home and the boys were asleep in their new rooms. The house was quiet, too quiet, and there was no annoying redhead to summarize the whole day in minute detail instead of sleeping. Or to ask the 'grinch' for one last gift. No, Mihawk closed the door to his empty room and didn't argue with Chopper when he jumped into bed first.

He undressed before settling into bed and, knowing that the pain would keep him from sleeping, Mihawk opened the drawer of his bedside table to retrieve the sleeping pills that Dr. Trafalgar had prescribed. Mihawk downed two - one too many - before turning on his side to face the Golden Retriever who had stolen his husband's place and he fell asleep easily, hoping he could keep this secret from his prying boys.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7. A complicated new year.

During their first winter as a couple, Shanks had arbitrarily decided they should go on vacation away from the capital where they were both studying. The redhead's university had organized a ski trip to Drum country and the first year had decided to enroll them. So, during the entire plane ride, the four-day stay, and even when talking to Rayleigh or Boa, Mihawk continued to say that he had been kidnapped. Instead of calling the police, his family had just laughed and Shanks… well, the redhead would kiss his cheek every time; all the more reason to complain, right?

Mihawk had expected eventful evenings and having to deal with a drunk Shanks, if the youngest wasn't too busy snubbing him for his fraternity friends. But instead, the new couple only stayed with the rest of the college group just for the plane ride. Indeed, Shanks had convinced Roger and Rayleigh to rent them a small two-person cabin using the excuse that Mihawk wouldn't like to stay with the others - which was largely true.

Of the trip to the land of Drum, Mihawk remembered four perfect days away from the stress of the capital and his responsibilities as a Law student and a world-renowned swordsman. For four days he was forbidden to open his revision notes. Anyway, Shanks had smuggled them out of his bag when they arrived and hid them somewhere; he had obviously forgotten where he had put them… But Mihawk didn't have the heart to argue with his boyfriend, not after he had been so attentive towards him.

They had eaten dishes consisting of cheese: fondue, raclette, tartiflette until Mihawk felt like he was exploding or had developed a lactose intolerance. But every dish came with a glass of wine and Mihawk couldn't find a reason to complain, even when he had faced Shanks' bad manners. The youngest and melted cheese did not go well together while the redhead had fun stretching the Comté thread as much as possible; laughing when he managed to get some on his face.

"Look, Hawky!"

Come to think of it, it was probably an elaborate tactic to get Mihawk to lean forward and remove the cheese threads with his fingers to eat it.

They had spent most of their days on the ski slopes, snowboards on their feet, where they would throw more and more ridiculous challenges to the other - Mihawk winning all of them most of the time.

For their nights, well… it would be better to keep that a secret.

Out of those four days, there was only one photograph that Shanks had posted on Facebook. In it, Mihawk was clearly visible, busy reading a book on the couch while the light of the fireplace reflected on his face. Below the photo, the only sentence written was: "the new year is off to a great start 😁 Happy New Year, Hawky❤️"

This photograph was now in the hands of Hawkeyes in the form of a Polaroid and Shanks' cute message had been replaced by a shorter, more terse "-happy new year."

A knock on the door took him by surprise and Mihawk jumped, the photo slipping from his fingers and onto the floor. He blinked and turned his head towards the door frame to see Beckman there. The old man's brow was furrowed with something resembling worry.

"Didn’t you hear me?"

"No, you said?"

Beck hesitated before entering the room since Mihawk hadn't dismissed him, "it's nice what you did for the brat."

Mihawk nodded absently as his gaze remained fixed on the polaroid that was on the floor. He knew he should thank Beck and Makino for their help in planning this surprise birthday party, yet his attention remained focused on that damn photo. Not for what it was, a vestige of his past, but for what it represented: someone was playing with him.

Except that by not responding to Beckman, he aroused the curiosity of the intuitive man who picked up the Polaroid and looked at it. Mihawk didn't try to forbid Beck from entering his private space since Shanks' second-in-command had helped him too many times to be insulted like that. Instead, he sat back in his chair and let Beck come to the same conclusion as him.

"Where did this photo come from?"

"From Shanks' Facebook, it's from 11 years ago," Mihawk replied tiredly as he closed his eyes. He would like nothing less than to sleep here and now, but he couldn't. Ace's friends might have gone home, the downstairs still needed to be cleaned and inspected for possible damage. He wouldn't dare let Makino clean for him, even though the trio was more willing to help her than him.

"So… you have a secret admirer?"

"A stalker," Mihawk corrected, opening one eye to see Beck place the polaroid on the table with a trembling hand. He must have been craving nicotine after an afternoon without smoking.

"What's the difference? Someone likes you."

"An admirer is someone who sends flowers out of shyness, while a stalker follows you everywhere. Yet, here, I am in this second situation since this person follows me. They made it clear when they sent a photo of myself."

"So this isn't the first photo you've received," Beck understood as he sat down on the couch in the room. The news seemed to surprise him, which must have been a lot since he was the most unflappable member of Shanks' team. Even the news that the redhead and Mihawk had gotten married to adopt Ace hadn't surprised him that much; he had simply congratulated them. But now, Beck was worried about Mihawk.

Between Shanks' disappearance, the finding of the arm, taking care of the three boys, the dog, his job, and the house, and Buggy's whims... Beck found that the youngest was accumulating a lot of loads lately, way too much. As if that wasn't already enough, someone had decided to use Mihawk's current weakness to play with his nerves. He wondered when the swordsman would break and who would be there to catch him; if anyone was there. Until before the loss of his captain, Beck had never taken much interest in Mihawk who had simply been cataloged as " Cap's rigid husband" by the crew, or had many regrets. Leaving Shanks was one; letting Mihawk destroy himself from the inside would be another.

"Have you thought about deleting Shanks’ social media?"

Mihawk hummed, but shook his head, "Smoker wants to keep them open so his team can research them. Because yes," the swordsman continued with a smirk, "I already warned the police."

They shared a knowing look because ever since they learned about his fainting, Shanks' crew liked to make fun of Mihawk and his "poor ability to take care of himself". Which was obviously wrong, since he had put his pride aside to warn Smoker that someone was following him.

Mihawk had been sure to feel eyes on him after Christmas, more than usual. It wasn't just vanity as women often turned to admire him - especially when he was in a three-piece suit. And when it wasn't for his good looks, some people stared at him to know where they knew him from. Most never figured out and gave up, but the worst were those who figured out where and why they had already seen him. No, the worst was when Shanks told them in great detail that Mihawk had participated in the Olympic Games.

During the week between Christmas and New Year, Mihawk had felt a perpetual presence behind him. At first, he had thought the accident in the bar aisle had made him paranoid but he hadn't noticed it until then. Then, Mihawk received a photo of him leaving the building and a little "-Hi" written underneath. He had been angry, frustrated at not having realized it, and a small part of him had been afraid, especially for the boys. So he called Smoker first.

"I'll have to call Smoker back," Mihawk muttered, putting the photo in a drawer to prevent the boys from accidentally stumbling upon it. Ace would be angry at being kept from this secret, but he was too young to be exposed to it. Above all, for the moment, the photos were innocent and did not necessarily constitute a threat. Maybe Beck was right and Mihawk had a secret admirer who didn't know how to be cute rather than threatening.

Still, he didn't like the idea of someone following him and sending him photos, even if it was just to say 'hello' and 'Happy New Year'. What had happened to the notes slipped into bouquets?

"I feel like I'm going through one bad news after another," Mihawk admitted, closing the drawer as he hoped that this story would be cleared up quickly.

"I can give you a good one if you want," Beck replied with a small smile.

Mihawk sighed as he recognized the ominous smirk, "if the boys have broken something, I…"

"No, they didn't break anything as far as I know. In fact, I came here to tell you something : Makino is pregnant."

It took Mihawk several moments to register the news and then he asked in disbelief: "are you kidding me?"

But Shanks' second-in-command wasn't laughing when he added, "You heard right. Makino's pregnant... And, well, that idiot redhead pestered me for years before I promised he'd be the godfather of my first born, but he's not here now. So would you mind taking his place? You're his closest representative and we know you can take care of children."

Facing the silence of Mihawk, who was too surprised to speak, Beck continued, "I'll understand if you don't want to with everything you're dealing with right now. We can always ask Yasopp and Bankina. It's just that ...I know there is little hope that Shanks will ever come back, he would already be here if he wasn't already...but if there is even the slightest chance that he comes back, he'll be my child's godfather as he wanted."

It took Mihawk several seconds to process the news: Makino's dream was finally coming true and they wanted Shanks and him to be the godfather of their child. Of course, with Shanks not being there, Mihawk will be able to sign both of their names on the sheet of paper; probably the main reason Beck was proposing to him too. At least, that's what Mihawk would have thought a few months ago. Now he knew the honor that was being offered to him : Makino, as much as Beck, wanted him to take care of their child if something happened to them. Mihawk understood only too well the responsibility of a godfather since Shanks had been Ace's godfather before the death of their parents and the adoption.

However, that didn't stop him from smiling and accepting.

"As long as I don't have to attend the baby shower," Mihawk clarified with a smirk, but Beck's cold face assured him that if he had to attend - he had no choice as a father -, then the presence of the swordsman was also obligatory.

"At least I won't have to put up with Shanks' ideas for the baby's name," Beck said, although there was nostalgia and sadness in it.

"The joy of having adopted, the boys already had names."

"Yeah, we remember the name they came up with for the dog."

Mihawk shuddered as he remembered the day he came home and was attacked by a puppy, "they still believe 'Tony Tony Chopper' is an appropriate name."

"It could have been worse. I remember when Ace was born, Shanks was sulking because his parents refused to call him 'Ginjo' or 'Jack-Daniel'. Alcohol names, obviously," Beck mocked. shaking his head.

And so they continued, juggling between telling old stories and making fun of Shanks' behavior. It was pretty easy to do both at the same time.

Mihawk was surprised to be able to recall old memories and think about Shanks without his heart pinching with pain. In fact, he managed to smile and laugh. Doing both a little more with each memory. It felt good to no longer have to push the memories away.

Unfortunately, they were interrupted by Luffy who literally jumped into the room, "Dad! We have to ask you something! And Auntie wants you to help her clean up uncle!"

Beck and Mihawk shared another knowing look before the older one took his chance to leave and let the father deal with his hyperactive kid. As he passed, Beck ruffled Luffy's hair to make him laugh.

"So what do you have to tell me?" Mihawk asked when Luffy remained strangely silent.

"No, not me! Zoro," the boy replied before running down the hall and coming back, pulling his best friend by the arm. "Go on, ask to dad!"

Mihawk frowned at Luffy's evil smile, which never boded well in general, and Zoro's unusual shyness. From what the adult knew, Luffy's best friend, two years older than him, was never shy. He was a bit like him actually, reserved and speaking little. So, obviously, the green-haired kid had been adopted by an extroverted Gold. Mihawk would have felt sorry for Zoro if the kid didn't tend to follow and support Luffy in all his mischief. But he knew that it was difficult to refuse anything to a Gold if he had the misfortune to smile at you.

So, it was with fatigue, but with great patience that Mihawk said to the duo, "I won't be angry if you broke something, but admit your mischief."

"We didn’t break anything!" Luffy promised before jumping onto the couch, his straw hat bouncing around his neck.

"It's true?" Mihawk asked looking towards Zoro, knowing that eleven-year-old boy always had a hard time lying to him.

"Yes, sir…"

"Come on, ask dad!" Luffy repeated excitedly.

"Luffy," Mihawk warned, motioning for his son to calm down before returning his attention to the other boy, "I'm listening, speak."

"Well… actually… you know Mr. Koshiro, right?"

Mihawk nodded since the man had been one of his trainers when he was little. It hadn't lasted long, maybe a year when he was thirteen, because the student had quickly surpassed the master. He hadn't spoken to Koshiro for years until he moved back to East Blue with Shanks. Since then, they would occasionally cross paths when Mihawk went to Rayleigh's gym. From what he knew, Mr. Koshiro had lost his daughter a long time ago and he had obtained custody of Zoro a few months later.

Although there was one detail that Mihawk still missed, but which one?

"He's moving soon and he can't take us with him. So, I'm going to be placed in an adoption center and my sister in another one, very far away. Luffy promised... that you could adopt us?"

My sister

Ah, yes, now Mihawk remembered the detail he had forgotten. Zoro had an older sister that the adult had only vaguely heard of until now. He knew Zoro would argue a lot with her and vaguely what she looked like. Other than that? Mihawk wouldn't be able to say her first name.

Which didn't stop him from glaring at his youngest son for having made such a promise to his best friend. His look was enough to calm Luffy who stopped bouncing on the couch and channeled his energy into his best puppy look, "you've adopted me, Sabo, and Ace."

Shanks had certainly taught Luffy how to make Mihawk bend with a pleading look and a trembling pout. That was how the redhead managed to get almost everything he wanted from the swordsman. Luffy could have used a lesson or two more, but he was naturally cuter than Shanks which earned him a few extra points.

"I can't start the adoption process without Dad," Mihawk replied softly.

As he suspected, Luffy wasn't happy about it and the boy stood on the couch, "Isn't there anything you can do?"

"Even if I asked, the adoption centers would refuse. You have to be married and have sufficient capital."

"You are married!"

Mihawk grimaced, "There are going to be investigations, Luffy. It won't work if Dad doesn't sign too."

"But..."

"...It's okay, Luf," Zoro intervened, trying to be strong, even though it was obvious that the refusal hurt him deeply, "we tried. Thank you, Mr. Silvers."

Mihawk pinched the bridge of his nose with his hand as he saw Luffy jump from the couch to cling to his best friend's back. He already knew that Luffy was going to make his life hell until he got what he wanted - the kid had proven it by wanting and getting his own room. Or worse, Mihawk was going to resist which would cause many conflicts until Luffy said the irreparable again.

"I wish it was you who died!"

What if this time, Luffy thought so? Additionally, Zoro was also liked by Sabo and Ace. So the big brothers were probably going to support Luffy. This house was going to be hell if Mihawk refused.

If Mihawk was honest with himself, he had compassion for Zoro too. Firstly, because the kid had lost his parents when he was a baby and only had his big sister to count on. Also, because he found himself in the kid who already wanted to become the best swordsman in the world.

"Luffy?" he called after making his choice.

The boy turned around with hope written in his eyes, "Yes, dad?"

"Before Beck leaves I'm going to ask him to put your old bed back together."

"What why?" Luffy asked hurriedly, already starting to sulk.

"You’re going to have to share your room again."

"But it's not fair! Ace and Sabo are all sleeping alone now! I'm a big boy too!"

"I know," Mihawk replied with a little wry smile, "but you prefer Zoro to sleep outside?"

The pout disappeared, replaced by a huge smile even brighter than the sun in August and Luffy jumped on his father to thank him. Mihawk, who expected this reaction, wrapped his arms around his son to return the hug. He looked towards Zoro and for once the 11-year-old boy was actually smiling as hope shone in his eyes.

"I'll call Koshiro," Mihawk promised as his hand rubbed circles on Luffy's back, "I can't adopt you, but I can probably be a foster family for you and your sister."

"Thank you, Mr. Silvers!"

"Yeah! Thanks, dad!"

And just like that, the two troublemakers were already off to new adventures. Mihawk already knew that they were going to cause a lot of trouble and that one of his vases was going to be broken before the end of the week. Four boys, a girl, an adult, and a dog. This house was going to look like a madhouse. Maybe Beck and the crew were right, maybe he had no sense of self-preservation.

As he walked down the stairs after making two phone calls, Mihawk heard the four boys laughing loudly together. He went down the rest of the stairs and discovered a sight that warmed his heart: Ace and Luffy running through the corridors with a broom and a dustpan in their hands to collect the confetti while Zoro cleaned the dishes and Sabo removed the decorations on the walls. It was a small miracle and strangely, Beck and Makino were not the instigators, lost in their worlds as they were.

"Dad! Whoever cleans up the most gets to choose the movie tonight, is that okay with you?"

"But Luffy is cheating!" Ace replied, keeping Luffy away from the pile of confetti he had just collected.

Sabo nodded vigorously as he threw a paper banner into the trash bag, "Yeah, he didn't do anything with Zoro!"

"It's not my fault," Luffy replied, sticking his tongue out at his big brothers, "Zoro got lost in the laundry room!"

"You were supposed to keep that to yourself!" replied Zoro whose cheeks were strangely pink.

Instead of asking them to stop yelling at each other, Mihawk confirmed the kids' bet and watched them hurry to clean up with a small smile on his face.

No, the only problem would be where Zoro's sister would sleep.

***

"You're completely crazy," Boa greeted him two days after Ace's surprise birthday. Apparently, his sister had just learned that Mihawk had managed to gain custody of Zoro and his sister, Perona.

It had been strangely easy to become their guardian thanks to the help provided by Koshiro and the social worker had even accelerated the process by recognizing Mihawk; it was with her that he and Shanks had signed the three adoption papers. Thus, he was unofficially Zoro and Perona's guardian until receiving the papers that would make it 100% official.

"Hello to you too," Mihawk replied, placing his steaming cup of coffee back on his wooden coaster.

"No, you're not playing innocent with me," Boa replied, sitting down in the seat opposite Mihawk's without being invited. "You adopted two more children when you were already barely getting by. You are crazy, suicidal, careless."

Mihawk raised an eyebrow at the wave of insult. It was certainly an unpleasant way to start a Tuesday morning, at least it wasn't a Monday. Although Mihawk could do without this unnecessary intervention. He would prefer to finish his Cappucino in peace and, preferably, before Boe throws anything in his face.

"You're in a bad mood this morning," he remarked because annoying his sister was one of his favorite pastimes; Crocodile would say he was a 'temperamental little shit', but Mihawk disagreed. He was easily bored, so annoying his coworkers by making their lives difficult was a means of entertainment. The only one who escaped Mihawk's sarcasm was Jinbe for three reasons: he was his boss, he was kind, and generally took the swordsman's side.

"Yes, because I can't be beautiful and worried about you. Also, worry causes wrinkles. I don't want to have wrinkles before getting to twenty-three."

"Stop meddling in matters that don’t concern you then."

"I can't, Rayleigh keeps bombarding WhatsApp for answers. He's been texting since five in the morning. Why isn't he asleep?"

Mihawk shrugged, "the gym opens at 2 p.m. and he must be busy when the bar closes with Shakky," he added with a smirk that made Boa shiver.

"Regardless, have you adopted two more children or not?"

"No," Mihawk replied matter-of-factly, "I am their legal guardian."

"You're playing with words," Boa remarked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yes, because I don't like how you're questioning my authority over your private group. Zoro and Perona were going to be separated so I'm giving them a place to stay. It's only more paperworks to do.."

"You forget about food, clothes, rooms, and rides to school," Boa remarked, lifting her perfectly manicured fingers each time.

"You're bringing up the problems instead of seeing the benefits. Perona is sixteen and has her driver's license, so she can drive Ace, Sabo, and Zoro to school with Shanks' car. It was gathering dust in the garage anyway. And then, I thought you would be happy to have a niece. According to Zoro, Perona loves shopping."

Mihawk smirked as he noticed the stars shining in Boa's eyes at the thought of going shopping with a niece she could spoil.

"You're very intelligent," Boa finally confessed grumpily, "but are you sure you'll be okay with five kids at home?"

"The boys aren't little kids anymore, Boa. Soon they'll all be over ten years old. They don't need me as much anymore..."

Boa smiled softly as she heard the regression in her brother's voice, "you're getting old, Hawky."

Mihawk was about to respond that 33 - almost 34 - wasn't that old when music sounded in the room. He hadn't heard that ridiculous love song - 'One thing' by One Direction - in a long time. In fact, since Shanks disappeared, because it was his ringtone, the one that the redhead had personalized himself. Feeling his jacket pocket vibrate, Mihawk retrieved his phone and checked the caller ID.

Maybe the boys had been playing with his phone and changed his settings?

No, his classic lock screen had been replaced by a selfie of Shanks: he was smiling slyly at the camera and winking.

The identifier was clear: "Red"

Mihawk threw his phone on his desk as if it had burned him and Boa leaned over to look too. It became clear that if her eyes were wide in shock, then so were his.

"Do you think it’s…?"

"No, he-he never called me back," Mihawk muttered, confused and stunned to receive a call now. It was impossible, wasn't it? Shanks' phone was with him, seven feet under the ocean.

"Could your stalker have gotten the phone line?" Boa asked, but Mihawk just shrugged. It was theoretically possible since he had kept the phone line open by paying Shanks' subscription every month to listen to his voicemail. He had also kept it in the hope that maybe this day would come. But was there ever even hope? The Sim card should be dead, destroyed by the salt water of the sea.

Since Mihawk was frozen, the young woman took matters into her own hands. She got up, picked up the phone, and accepted the call before it ended. Knowing her brother would want to listen, Boa pressed the speaker before asking, "Hello?"

There was a long silence, enough for hope to arise in Mihawk and he stood up from his chair, ready to speak when…

"Hello, I'm calling as a representative of the 'puppyland' animal association," replied the deep voice of an old man who didn't possess an ounce of Shanks' cheerful and excited tone. "Dogs are humans' best friends, you know? It's normal for humans to return this love with checks, sorry that's said strangely…," even the laughter wasn't the right one. "I'm sure you love dogs too and would like to make a donation. To do so, I'll need your name and address."

"No!" replied Boa angrily, she too had believed in Shanks's miraculous return, "you have no idea calling people so early to defraud them! Call this number again and I will close your kennel! You..."

Boa stopped when the call was abruptly cut off, the old man probably not expecting to be attacked so violently.

She looked at Mihawk expectantly but her brother's face was as expressive as a marble statue. Fearing his reaction, she whispered, "well, if that old man is your stalker, you'd have no trouble mastering him..."

The joke fell through when Mihawk didn't respond, his brain as functional as his broken heart. As for the hope he had felt just seconds ago, it was now drowning in an ocean of salt water, like Shanks and his phone.

"I'm going to call Smoker to let him know that your stalker has struck again and ask the telecommunications company to cancel Shanks' subscription. Is that okay with you?"

Mihawk only managed a small nod, his voice caught in his tight throat, but which was still enough for Boa to leave.

He turned his chair towards the large bay window because the main wall of his office had glass and he didn't want his colleagues to see the silent tears that fell down his cheeks.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8. Where Mihawk's patience is put to the test

Waking up to the shrill sound of the fire alarm with one of his boys jostling his arm wasn't one of Mihawk's best wake-ups.

Quite the opposite as the burning smell helped him wake up.

"Luffy tried to cook," Sabo explained with a rueful little smile and as if that wasn't enough, he added: "you missed your alarm. We're going to be late for school."

Mihawk cursed when he looked at the time on his phone and saw that it was already 7:35. They all had to be out of the house in less than 20 minutes so as not to be late. It was going to be tight, but it was playable. Probably.

"Wake up everyone on this landing," he ordered Sabo as he hurriedly got up from the couch and they left his office at the same time.

The father and son then separated to accomplish their missions: Sabo to wake up the rest of the family and Mihawk to prepare a semblance of breakfast.

The first step in the adult's journey was to open the cellar door and yell at Ace to wake up. Thankfully, he didn't need it since the boy emerged from his room at that moment, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"Something burnt?" Ace asked, yawning heavily.

Obviously, Ace had felt something burning and it woke him up like the little arsonist he was. But Ace's tendency seemed to be limited to lighting the barbecue or the fireplace and Mihawk prayed that it would never go further. The adult didn't have time for one of his sarcastic remarks anyway and he just nodded.

They found the culprit hypnotized by cartoons in the living room and Mihawk turned off the TV before losing Ace too. This TV was a real demonic device, the adult was sure of it.

"Breakfast, now," he ordered in a harsh voice to cut off Luffy's complaints.

The kitchen looked like it had fought in World War I...and lost. There was flour, chocolate, and bits of eggshells everywhere, even on the ceiling. The smell wasn't any better as the room stank of burning and Mihawk found the origin of the smell in the sink where Sabo had thrown the pan and hosed it down.

"I wanted to make Dad's pancakes," Luffy explained quietly, afraid of getting argued, but he was lucky they were all too late for that.

Mihawk only wanted to clean the kitchen until it shined but, since the two monsters behind him were going to end up eating him if they weren't fed, he opened the window and got a new pan.

The omelets were almost cooked when the rest of the tribe, led by Sabo, entered the kitchen. They were almost all in pajamas, Zoro was in jogging pants and a tank top, Sabo in flannel pajamas, and Luffy in his dinosaur pajamas. Only Perona was perfectly dressed in her pink and black dress and her hair was styled in two ponytails.

Mihawk frowned at these get-ups and said, "I don't serve breakfast to those still in their pajamas."

Luffy was the first to run towards his room, followed more slowly by the others.

Instead of sitting and waiting to be served, Perona grabbed enough glasses and some juice. Fortunately, the teenager was there to give him a hand. Perona was a real help compared to the other boys who would starve if Mihawk wasn't there. To thank her, he served her first and he hesitated in front of Ace's plate, "are you dressed?"

The boy nodded and stood up to show off his outfit consisting of an oversized orange sweater, brown cargo pants that he had to convince Boa to buy him, and black rangers. Ace's fashion sense despaired Mihawk, but he was wearing real clothes and the elder didn't want to fight.

He went to his room to get dressed once all the boys were dressed and busy eating their breakfast. A poster of a K-pop star hung above the bed and a portable dressing room filled with colorful clothes proved that it was no longer exactly his room, but Perona's. The room he shared with Shanks was the only one available for the young woman since Mihawk couldn't see her sharing a room with one of the boys. He could have changed the rooms, but he hadn't wanted to and it was simpler that way.

He quickly put on a black Levi's and a blue shirt before returning to the kitchen. There, the children were arguing, but had all finished eating and convinced by Sabo, they had put their dishes in the dishwasher. The kitchen wasn't clean by Mihawk's high standards, but it would do for now. Mostly, he didn't have time to look in detail as he noticed Ace's eyes closing and his head getting dangerously closer to the granite surface. Mihawk just had time to cross the room and place his hand between Ace's head and the granite to spare him a bump.

It was a shock to everyone at first when Ace had started sleeping at any time in any place - especially to those outside of their family. Mihawk had been extremely worried the first time he had witnessed it, but Shanks had been there to reassure him, saying that it was a family thing that Ace had inherited from their mother. Since then the swordsman was accustomed enough to recognize the signs and catch up with his son at any time.

Still, the first time Ace had a narcoleptic moment in front of Perona, the young woman had screamed so loudly that Chopper had taken refuge under the table in the dining room. She had thought he was dead before she noticed he was sleeping and had since gotten used to it.

Mihawk looked at his watch to keep an eye on the time as he held Ace's forehead with his other hand and gestured for the others to put on their coats and shoes. He would drive Ace to school himself if he didn't wake up in the next three minutes. The administration would accept this delay since it was considered medical, but Mihawk suspected Ace of using this excuse to hang out outside the school with his skateboard.

Luckily, Ace woke up two minutes later.

"Perona will drive you to school, we're too late for you to go there on a skateboard. I'll drive Luffy," he added toward the young woman so that she wouldn't have to make a detour to the elementary school. He would be late to work but he could afford it.

"But..." Ace started, ready to complain.

He was cut off by Perona who already had Shanks's keys car in her hands, "Come on, little terror. No way I'm going to be late because of half a portion like you."

"Hey! I'm not small!" Ace protested, running behind the laughing teenager.

"No, you’re just the perfect size for an Umpa-Lumpa!"

In the end, Mihawk did not arrive five minutes late for work, but a good fifteen minutes since he had bought a coffee after dropping Luffy off at the elementary school. He needed his daily dose of coffee to get through this grueling day and he hadn't had time to drink one this morning. He was already late anyway, so he might as well take advantage of it.

He entered the living room expecting to find it empty, but his fellow Shichibukai coworkers were all there, ensconced on the couches. There were still free places between Teach and Boa, and Mihawk easily made his choice. He sat down next to his sister and took off his trench coat which he placed on the backrest, he wanted to be as discreet as possible so as not to be argued with by his boss. But Jinbei simply greeted him as he passed and warned him that the casting of lots had not yet taken place.

Each year, the Shichibukai's lawyers had to work with the government's senior lawyers; the "Admirals". They were as proud and vain as their names suggested, at least for the most part. Until now, Mihawk had always pulled the right person. The first year he had worked with Fujitora and the second with Admirals coordinator, Sengoku, and each time the partnership had been fruitful, ending with an ambitious and successful project. Both partnerships ended over a meal at home because Shanks wanted to meet Mihawk's colleagues; he was certain that Luffy and Chopper had traumatized Sengoku's goat.

Others had been less fortunate like Doflamingo who had worked with Kizaru and Akainu, and Crocodile who had to put up with his lover's complaints. Doflamingo was complaining again now, but no one was listening to him, so he changed tactics.

"So, Hawky, who did you have sex with last night?" Dolfy asked, licking his lower lip and creating a terrible awkward tension. No one dared to speak anymore and Mihawk could feel all eyes on him, especially Boa who was delighted to hear gossip about her brother.

"No one," Mihawk replied, thinking back to how he had been rudely awakened from his couch less than an hour ago.

"That’s not what your shirt says."

Mihawk looked down at his navy blue shirt. It certainly wasn't his since its color palette ranged from burgundy and purple to white and black. Plus, as if that wasn't enough, it was too big in the chest area and revealed a little too much skin and muscle. This display was a far cry from the three-piece suits with jackets and ties that Mihawk usually wore. He wasn't even wearing a tie, which could be considered sacrilege by Mihawk standards. At least he felt nice and comfortable in it. And whether Doflamingo liked it or not, Mihawk had always made the secretaries drool even if he only wore a shirt and jeans. They had nicknamed him the 'model' for a specific reason after all.

"If you're looking for gossip, you'll be disappointed. I went to the wrong closet this morning, the shirt belongs to Shanks."

"Tch, so you're going to be one of those idiots who wears their mates' clothes to feel safe," scoffed Dolfy who was in a nasty mood this morning, he was certainly nervous.

Mihawk didn't intend to respond to this attack, but he was saved by Crocodile who replied: "You're one of those idiots. You were wearing my shirt last time."

"It wasn’t for that reason!" Doflamingo laughed as his face turned pink with shame.

A wave of disgust echoed through the room as the implication of why Dolfy would wear a shirt from Crocodile. These were mental images that Mihawk would have been fine living without, especially on a Monday morning.

"Anyway," Dolfy continued, turning his attention back to Mihawk, "you should follow my advice: getting laid will do you the world of good. Trust my experience, it will help you feel better."

Mihawk rolled his eyes as this topic was brought to the table again by the same blonde dressed in pink. He didn't need to get laid like Dolfy said for the simple reason that he wasn't an animal. He had no urge to satisfy, other than to commit murder as quickly as possible. Above all, Mihawk found it quite inappropriate that Doflamingo told him to fuck someone else while he was wearing Shanks' shirt and his ring was shining on his finger.

"I didn't ask your opinion, Barbie," Mihawk replied sarcastically.

He received two grunts in response. The first from Dolfy because he didn't like being compared to a plastic doll, and the second from Crocodile because if he fucked Barbie then he was necessarily Ken.

Dolfy was about to respond when Mihawk's attention was attracted by Boa who wanted to see Sabo's birthday photos. Saturday had been March 20, Sabo's birthday, and the now 13-year-old had wanted to go to the City of Science. It had been quite an organization to take a group of five children ranging from nine to sixteen years old, most of whom were not interested in science. At least there had been fun activities to amuse Luffy, Ace, and Zoro while Mihawk was dragged by Sabo to the four corners of the congress and Perona had fun taking photos of them.

He had almost finished showing the photos Perona had sent him when the door opened to reveal their dear colleagues from the capital.

The time for the draw had arrived...

Now, it wasn't that the Shichibukai and the Admirals didn't like each other. Most of them hated each other. The admirals saw the Shichibukai as thugs to whom the government had managed to put a tie and a suit. Their more or less criminal, illegal, and disturbing past was known to everyone. Crocodile, Teach and Doflamingo were the worst since they used more than shady means and networks to ensure their victories; Jinbei and Kuma had been vocal activists in their youth; Moria, well, the man was just weird. As for the brother and sister, rumors wanted them to be made of ice. On the other hand, the Shichibukai saw the admirals as pretentious good-for-nothings; The Shichibukais wouldn't be here otherwise, isn't it?

As an exemplary host, Jinbei, their coordinator, let Sengoku and his men pick from the box whoever they would collaborate with.

Mihawk, who was more concerned about how dirty his kitchen was than who he would be working with, blinked when his name was called. He stood up to shake Sengoku's hand as a sign of respect before turning to his colleague. Mihawk had a bad feeling when he had to look up to make eye contact. He was not a small man, measuring 1m98, and he was not skinny either thanks to his titles as the best in the world.

When Shanks called him a shrimp, Mihawk always responded that he was slender and proportional. Above all, he never saw the point in having useless muscles. His goal had never been to look like a tank but to be agile and fast.

No, the man in front of him was just more massive; a real tank. Akainu must have been over 2m10 tall and had way too much muscle. If Mihawk had to guess, someone had something to make up for. Now, whether it was in the noggin or in the pants, Mihawk wouldn't know.

They shook hands and Akainu's hand easily encompassed Mihawk's.

"Is there something funny?" Asked Akainu who noticed Mihawk's smirk; he was still stuck on his analogy.

"Nothing," Mihawk replied flatly, tightening the hand in his to respond to Akainu's attempted intimidation. He only let go when he saw a hint of pain appear on the elder's face and his smirk grew.

Mihawk always won and Akainu would have to learn this lesson quickly if they wanted their partnership to be successful.

In search of equality, the youngest pulled out the paper to find out what subject their project should focus on and it came across "Sustainable Development". They then agreed with Akainu to give themselves a few days to think alone on their own. Well, Mihawk had decided unilaterally that he would think alone first and left his partner no choice as he left a few seconds later.

Instead of locking himself in his office, Mihawk went home, because he could never be productive knowing that there were dirty pans in his sink. So, for an hour, he cleaned his kitchen until it shined and ended up throwing away the frying pan that Luffy had used. There was a hole in it. How? Mihawk had no idea. He had long since stopped looking for logic in his sons.

The idea struck him as he was cleaning Luffy and Zoro's room and found a soldier fighting a whale. What interested Mihawk was not the symbolism of a soldier fighting alone against a marine mammal three times his size, knowing Luffy, this fight had no logic anyway. No, the whale referred him to the protection of animals, therefore the environment, and one thing leading to another, to sustainable development. And it so happened that Mihawk knew a maritime company that had just converted to sustainable development and its CEO was quite familiar.

He then went to his office where he was literally sleeping to search in the only cabinet that was reserved for Shanks. It wasn't that his husband had a less important job than his, Shanks was just less inclined to bring work home. Knowing what he was looking for, Mihawk rummaged through the redhead's 'organized mess' until he found his notebook of ideas. The little notebook was filled with the redhead's ramblings and some ideas were both fanciful and impractical, but some were actually quite good.

He sat cross-legged on the floor as he looked through page after page of Shanks' ideas until he found one he liked and that hadn't already been picked up by Beck and the rest of the crew. Mihawk didn't want to be accused of cheating, he was just looking for inspiration from the best sailor he knew. Plus, they were married. So legally everything that was Shanks's was his. And, the last justification that Mihawk found: what Akainu didn't know could not harm him.

One of Shanks' ideas eventually piqued his interest. In fact, it was a pretty crude drawing of the Red Force sailing the oceans while cleaning the water. In any case, that was what Mihawk understood from two lines coming out of a tank under the hull of the ship and the small dots which represented a "magic solution". On a corporate scale, Shanks' idea was impossible, but Mihawk had a way to make it happen if he had government support.

Before that, he should win the project call.

So, he sat down at his desk and began to explore the idea that obsessed him, so much that he didn't notice the time passing until Chopper asked to be taken for a walk and the kids came home.

Around 11 p.m., he sent an email to Akainu about what he had found and, exhausted, Mihawk didn't need to swallow any pills before falling asleep dressed only in a shirt on the couch in his office.

The next morning, while checking his emails, Mihawk noticed that Akainu had accepted his idea. Not only that, but the eldest added that he was going to contact scientists to find out more about a potential 'miracle solution' and that he was leaving the legal part to Mihawk. They had planned a meeting for Wednesday morning because it would be easier to bring their ideas together.

Mihawk had made more than good progress when Wednesday morning arrived. It had to be said that the lawyer received help from Shanks' comrades. He only had to send a message roughly explaining his idea to learn more in one conversation than by searching for hours on the internet. Again, Akainu didn't know could not harm him.

So, Mihawk was sipping his vanilla machiato when there was a knock on the door. He expected it to be Akainu and so didn't look up from his screen before inviting the person in. Maybe he should have...

"Hello, Mr. Hawkeyes. It's been a long time."

He looked up to see Outlook III of all people in his office. Mihawk didn't know why, but as soon as he saw that face, his disgust waged war with his anger without one of the two feelings prevailing over the other. It was even worse when he heard that nasal, false voice.

"You have come to the wrong office," he said in a flat voice, skipping the greeting, "I cannot legally represent you given our past, and I am even less keen to do so personally."

"I came here to find an amicable settlement."

These two words aroused the curiosity of Mihawk who left his chair to walk towards the nobleman.

"Didine and I want Sabo to return to his rightful place with us," Outlook explained in a slightly trembling voice as Mihawk moved closer to him. "We adopted a boy and we would like him to meet his big brother..." he coughed uncomfortably to regain his confidence, "these charades have gone on long enough. Sabo is our son and there is no way he will continue to live with your wild children. I know that you are alone in raising a troop of five children since the disappearance of your husband. I could relieve you a little..."

Outlook never finished his sentence as Mihawk grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and slammed him hard against his desk. There was a loud crack and Mihawk was more worried about the wood than the snooty nobleman's face. Outlook groaned in pain and tried to break free, but Mihawk's hand held him tightly.

In fact, Mihawk put his full weight on Outlook before whispering in his ear, "Blood or not, Sabo is my son. My family has already been torn apart enough, I wouldn't lose another member because you discovered a paternal fiber. So don't even try to take Sabo from us, from me."

"I am part of the government, which makes me your employer, you are obliged to return my son to me."

Mihawk turned Outlook around so they were face to face and he raised his fist to make his threat clear, "you want to test your theory?"

"You won't dare," Outlook muttered in fear, "hit me and you're a dead man."

"I'm already dead."

Mihawk was about to strike, his wedding ring gleaming, but a large hand grabbed his to stop him. He turned around and his eyes vibrating with anger met Akainu's serene ones, "let him go, Hawkeyes."

"Don't get involved in this," he spat, struggling to get his arm back.

"It’s my duty to stop you from doing something stupid."

Mihawk refused and tried to regain his fist again to complete his mission but Akainu did not give up. In fact, the Admiral clenched Mihawk's fist until it was painful and the younger slightly released his grip on Outlook's neck. The nobleman quickly got up and hid behind Akainu's large body to protect himself from the angry lawyer.

"I wanted an amicable agreement but a trial awaits you!"

"Don't push him," Akainu warned, grabbing Outlook's arm to force him out of the office. And before leaving, he promised to Mihawk: "I will sort this out."

"I do not need help."

Akainu raised an eyebrow, easily showing that Mihawk wasn't convincing, and ordered, "Take the day off, see you tomorrow for the project."

Mihawk didn't want to obey Akainu, he was no longer a child and had no orders to receive from anyone. But he felt his veins boiling inside and if he didn't come out, he might very well take the plunge and commit a crime. So, before breaking anything or killing anyone, Mihawk slammed the door to his office and left under the curious gaze of his colleagues.

That day, many Bobs died under Mihawk's punches. Enough for a tide of sand to be spread throughout the gym. Sweat was covering the athlete's body and his knuckles were cracked and bleeding when he was finished; when Rayleigh forced him to stop. This time no words of comfort were enough to calm Mihawk's anger. Knowing he couldn't let his son go like the caged animal he was, Ray offered a fight, then another, and another, until Mihawk was too exhausted to think about Outlook and his threats.

When Mihawk returned home that evening, the children were already all home and safe. Zoro and Luffy were playing on the console while Perona was on her phone. He found Sabo and Ace in the kitchen bickering for some reason. They were cut off in their argument when Mihawk grabbed Sabo and hugged him.

"Dad?" Sabo asked, legitimately surprised by this embrace which had no apparent reason. If it had been Shanks, the boy wouldn't have been surprised, his father showed his love with affectionate gestures. For his part, Mihawk had more discreet ways to show his love.

Mihawk didn't respond while he was physically making sure that his son was there and he silently promised himself that he would do everything to keep him with them.

"Oh, I know," Ace scoffed as he approached his father and brother, "you got caught by the cuddle monster! It's going to swallow you!"

"Shut up, Ace," Sabo growled as he tried to kick his brother, but the older boy jumped out of the way.

In retaliation, Ace grabbed Sabo's cheek and squeezed gently, "Tatata, daddy's boys don't kick."

"Dad! Do something!" Sabo complained, grabbing Ace's arm to force him to let go.

Mihawk intervened by grabbing Ace by his sweater and instead of forcing him to move away, he brought him closer to hug him as well.

"Argh, I got caught by the cuddle monster too!" Ace laughed, although his arm circled his father's back and he made no attempt to escape.

Sabo stuck his tongue out at his brother, "we're going to get swallowed!"

"Heyyyy!" a small voice shouted indignantly, "I want hugs too!"

The three almost fell when Luffy jumped on Mihawk's back, but the adult held on and adapted easily. Not that he had a choice since small arms clung to his neck. Luffy had made enough noise to attract Perona and Zoro who looked at them without daring to approach so as not to be caught by the 'cuddle monster'; which did not prevent the teenager from taking numerous photos.

Once his emotional batteries were reset and Mihawk felt sufficiently calm, he let go of the two boys, but Luffy remained clinging to his neck.

"Shall we order pizza for tonight?" he asked even though he already knew the answer.

That evening, after receiving the many pizzas, Mihawk locked the doors and made sure the windows were closed before settling on the couch with his family. They watched a movie Zoro had chosen and for a moment, Mihawk allowed himself to relax.

However, Mihawk did not go to sleep and spent the night preparing an impregnable defense to ensure that no one would take Sabo away from them.

He also spent his night checking his emails and even more once the sun rose. He refreshed the page every few minutes and ignored any messages that didn't come from the government. At work, Mihawk jumped on his letters when the postman gave them to him, scaring the young man in the process. He didn't care though, too preoccupied to methodically check each envelope. Mihawk allowed himself to breathe when he found no letter from the government. There was, as usual, an orange envelope that contained a Polaroid of him taken against his will, but, for once, Mihawk didn't care.

The most important thing was that he had not received any summons from the government following his action the day before. However, his superiors always acted quickly when a member of the nobility was threatened. If he did not receive a summons today, there was a good chance that Mihawk would not receive one, and the matter would be hushed up.

Every minute was torture and every hour didn't pass quickly enough for his liking. This day had to end as quickly as possible, yet Mihawk's wish was not granted.

Maybe he had scared Outlook enough? Maybe the nobleman didn't have the courage to attack him? Or that he had decided that Sabo wasn't worth a trial with one of the best lawyers in the country and the best swordsman in the world? Perhaps the council of elders had refused his complaint because Outlook had already humiliated them enough in the past?

Lots of other 'maybes' preoccupied Mihawk for the rest of the day, but when Akainu knocked on his door early in the afternoon, he realized the obvious. Akainu must have kept his promise, probably. He was unsure to say since the eldest was as gruff as usual, ordering Mihawk to give his report and they began to work without mentioning yeatserday's accident.

The days passed, no message from the government arrived in his mailbox or letter box, and Mihawk finally relaxed.

Akainu had indeed protected him from Outlook and his shenanigans, but the elder continued not to talk about it and Mihawk promised himself to find a way to thank him before the end of their partnership.

In the end, Mihawk had to admit that working with Akainu wasn't so bad. Despite the muscles, Akainu was intelligent, at least intelligent enough to follow Mihawk in his ideas and not hinder him. He wasn't exactly nice, but he wasn't the cruel monster Dolfy had criticized. But Dolfy had a pig character and only got along with a closed circle of people, so Mihawk wasn't so surprised to discover that Akainu was a tolerable person. He wouldn't go so far as to say he liked the older man, there was no need to exaggerate, but they worked well together and Mihawk always owed him one.

They had almost finished the project when Mihawk treated himself to an evening of peace by leaving the children with his parents. He didn't like owing debts so the swordsman wanted to repay his colleague with Sushi and wine. It wasn't anything very formal since they had settled into one of the conference rooms and continued to work, but Mihawk was feeling better now.

Strangely, Mihawk had to admit that being completely alone with Akainu wasn't as weird as he had initially thought. They had moved to the side of the table to be close and were eating quietly, talking about work until Akainu closed his computer.

"I don't like to work while I eat," explained Akainu, who was certainly making an effort as his cap was on the table and there was no cigar in sight - Mihawk had made him understand that he didn't like the smell.

"I see and what do you want to talk about?"

Akainu shrugged as he ate a sushi, "how much do I owe you for food?"

"Nothing," Mihawk replied, relaxing in his chair. He had removed his upper layers until he was only in his black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. It felt good to talk to an adult who didn't look at him like he was going to break; even Crocodile looked at him like that from time to time and Mihawk hated it. At least, Akainu looked at him with respect and the swordsman preferred that. "We’re even now."

"I didn’t know you owed me anything."

"You stopped Outlook from carrying out his plan. Sushi is the minimum in my book."

"And you decided that sushi would be enough?"

"Well," Mihawk began before leaning forward to retrieve the bottle of wine, but Akainu beat him to it and filled his glass, "this bottle is a vintage. So you should feel lucky, I'm not taking them out for anybody."

"I feel lucky," Akainu confirmed, placing the bottle on the table. He leaned back in his chair before making eye contact between them and admitting, "It's a little surreal to be here with you."

Mihawk smirked, "Don't believe all the rumors going around, I'm not that bad. Although, it depends on one's point of view, I suppose."

"I don't listen to rumors," Akainu clarified as a small glint shone in his dark eyes, "I was talking about having the best swordsman in the world in front of me."

"This isn’t the first time we’ve eaten together, is it?" Mihawk asked, searching his memory and he was sure he had already eaten with Akainu. The only difference was that they had always had someone with them. Another Shichibukai, another Admiral, or Shanks had been invited as a husband. Previously, they had never had any reason to share a meal alone together.

Akainu hummed and a rare small smile appeared on his face, "I was surprised when you accepted Sengoku's offer to join the Shichibukai. I thought you would continue to shine in the spotlight. Instead, you retired after a fantastic victory. You were impressive that day."

Mihawk didn't even feel himself thanking Akainu as he was immersed in an old memory.

***

His second participation in the Olympic Games went much better than the first. First, because Mihawk had grown up, he was 22 instead of 18 and, even if he already thought he was mature at the time, he was much more so now. Besides, the jitters from the first time were gone, now the flashing cameras and the journalists shouting at him were usual, and Mihawk had understood the rules. Don't rush fights, take your time, and put on a good show. And the presence of the redhead full of energy who followed him everywhere helped enormously.

The first time, he had been alone since Hinata was no longer his mother and he didn't want her by his side and the people he wanted with him were too busy to follow him.

This time, Shanks was with him, accompanying him to every practice and competition, and distracting him from the pressure with smiles and jokes. With Shanks around, competing in the Olympics was no longer a chore, but a game.

And before Mihawk knew it, the game was ending today. One last match, one last victory, and one last medial to collect. Then, they will be back to East Blue and their normal lives.

"It's your last one, Hawky! You're going to beat that Russian," Shanks smiled proudly before looking towards Mihawk's coach and added seriously, "not too fast, okay?"

"I know," Mihawk huffed as he finished equipping himself, he wasn't annoyed, more amused. Since the start of the competition, Shanks had taken on the role of emotional coach - or mama bear - supporting him every step of the way; much to the annoyance of his real coach, Vista.

A countdown began behind them, a sign that the final match was about to begin.

Just then, Shanks' phone rang and the youngest apologized, saying it was his mother. Vista took advantage of the redhead's absence to give Mihawk his final advice

The countdown showed that there was less than a minute left and Mihawk was ready. He had recorded the final pieces of advice that he didn't need but that were still useful to hear. He was perfectly equipped and if his hand trembled on Yoru, it was out of excitement and nothing else.

Mihawk was about to reach the stairs when he was stopped by his favorite redhead. Except that instead of encouraging him, Shanks was crying and sobbing. The youngest had come to seek comfort in the only person he knew here and Mihawk didn't know what to do as his equipment prevented him from returning the hug.

"Mom wants me to come home as quickly as possible," Shanks explained through his sobs, "D-Dad has cancer... Terminal stage, h-he's going to d-die... s-s-soon. She wants me to say goodbye."

Yoru fell carelessly to the ground as Mihawk barely managed to wrap his arms around his boyfriend. The news was devastating, even for him who considered Roger his uncle. So, he didn't even want to imagine how Shanks must feel. The redhead's father was his whole world, the one who had taught him so much and who had even more to teach him.

Mihawk nodded even though Shanks couldn't see it, "let's go."

"Hawkeyes!" Vista yelled at him, "you can't leave! They're all waiting for you!"

"I don't care," he replied harshly as he felt Shanks tremble against him. He owed so much to the redhead who had helped him through the worst phase of his life when they weren't even friends. At this point, without Shanks, Mihawk might have accidentally committed suicide or the marks on his wrists would have been much more numerous. Shanks had been his friend, his best friend, and now his boyfriend, all in just four years. There was no way he was going to abandon him now.

The Olympic Games could very well put his absence where the sun doesn't shine, if Shanks left then Mihawk too.

"N-no, Mihawk," Shanks stammered, forcing himself to step back and let go of Mihawk, "g-go."

The countdown was getting closer to zero and his opponent was already on the stage.

"Shanks…"

"No, go ahead, kick his butt. I'll wait for you here," whispered Shanks, sniffling to chase away his tears, but they continued to fall. He tried to smile to assure Mihawk that he would be okay, but the smile was just fake and broken.

Mihawk hesitated, torn between his duty and his love, when a clock struck outside. Finally, knowing that there shouldn't be a plane right away, Mihawk decided to finish what he started. He kissed Shanks and promised against his lips, "I'll be quick."

The swordsman did not keep his promise to put on a good show for the spectators. Instead, he held the one he had just made to Shanks. Mihawk wasted more time getting to the stage than winning the three rounds. He didn't even give his opponent, a Russian, a chance, whom he hit with his button every time. The beeps rang out each time thanks to Mihawk, who made no mistake. He was methodical to the point of being mean, enough to enrage the Russian who lost many points.

Thus, after the first round, a vicious circle began. The Russian was getting angry and his posture was paying the price, and Mihawk took advantage of every flaw to hit his opponent's equipment with his foil. As a result, the Russian got angrier and, the only times he touched Mihawk, he made a fault.

The third round was even faster than the first, making Mihawk the undisputed winner of this competition. This quick victory also made him the best swordsman in the world according to journalists who watched the Olympic Games that year. Because the Russian was not bad, he was excellent, but he had come across someone better than him.

Above all, this time, Mihawk had not played the game.

He jumped off the stage to the cheers of the spectators after greeting the jury and ran back to Shanks.

***

"Mihawk? Are you okay?" Akainu asked worriedly, his hand on Mihawk's bicep to pull him back to the present.

The youngest shook his head and blinked the memory away, "yes, it's okay. Forgive me, did you say?"

"I said you were impressive that day," Akainu repeated, worry still permeating his voice. "Are you sure everything's okay? You're not going to pass out on me?"

Mihawk sipped his drink to force himself to chase away Shanks' broken sobs. It was complicated, but the alcohol helped. Once his glass was empty, Mihawk put it down and teasingly asked, "I'm only impressive this day?"

"No, all your matches were impressive, even the ones from your first participation. How old were you? 16?"

"Don’t make me younger, I was 18 the first time; 22 the second."

Akainu looked even more impressed, "you never regretted ending your career here? You could have gone much further."

Mihawk pondered the question while swirling the new liquid in his glass. It's true, he could have continued his career, but at what cost? Mihawk had no trouble imagining what his future would have looked like if he had continued on this path: constant boredom, opponents more incompetent than the others, and constellations of marks on his wrists - and the rest of his body. Instead, he had stopped his career at the right moment and saved his wrists at the cost of love and a family.

"There was nothing else waiting for me," Mihawk admitted honestly. "The Olympic Games were a childhood dream. A dream that turned out to be nothing more than a pipe dream. I guessed it during my first match where victory had been much too simple. This was just a show, my opponents touched me not because they were good, but because I was lettingthem. I thought the Olympics were the ideal place to meet the best in the world, but it turned out that none of them were a match for me. This proved even more true during my second participation. It would have been pointless to continue."

"Before this conversation, I thought you were a proud, vain man who is overconfident in his abilities."

"And now?" Mihawk asked, wondering if Akainu would have the bravery to say it.

And Akainu certainly had courage since he admited, "Now, I know you are all that and more."

"Well, I have reasons to be," Mihawk confirmed without feeling any regret as he sipped his drink, "I like to win and crush my opponents in the process, because I can. That's probably why I chose law as my second career for the challenge of verbal combat. I see no reason to win if it is not by giving 100% of my abilities. Except that sometimes, it goes to my head." He shrugged before adding softly: "If you want to do one thing too well, you end up making the opposite happen."

"You sound like a perfectionist," Akainu scoffed and earned a quiet laugh.

"My kids would say I'm a control freak, but I much prefer your description."

"You chose family over fame," Akainu realized as he finished his own drink. He smirked before asking: "Or were you afraid of running into someone stronger than you?"

This time, Mihawk laughed frankly, "There is no such person. I have no equal."

Except maybe Shanks who had been trained by Rayleigh, but his husband had always preferred a different kind of fighting with a different kind of sword.

"You’re quite vain, I like that."

"And you're flirting with me," Mihawk finally realized as he felt Akainu's appreciative gaze on him. He received a lot of appreciative glances, so much so that he didn't really pay attention anymore, but not a few of them dared to flirt with him. First, his suitors backed away as soon as they he saw the ring on his finger, otherwise his frankness and his cold voice were enough to dissuade them, and, if it wasn't enough, the red-haired menace he had married finished them off.

Akainu's smirk deepened, "I plead guilty."

Once Akainu's intentions were clear - even more than that when his chocolate gaze moved to the swordsman's lips and lower to his chest - Mihawk knew he should have backed away, or ordered them to finish their meal before resuming their work. He knew that, except instead he let Akainu continue to flirt, even responding to it. It had been a long time since someone had flirted with him and desired him enough to dare approach his sharp edges. The last one was his stalker, but Mihawk didn't exactly want to count him.

Akainu wasn't Shanks in the way he stood, spoke, or behaved. The laughter was deep and dark rather than joyful, a tattoo was visible behind the Hawaiian shirt, and the differences only grew more pronounced the deeper Mihawk dug. But for the first time in a year, he felt alive and wanted. Akainu had treated him well so far: he had protected him, accepted his every ideas, and complimented him shamelessly. Beside, this evening was strangely nice.

Without knowing it, they had gotten closer to each other and Mihawk still didn't push Akainu away even when the predictable happened. The admiral raised his hand, not to grab his drink, but to cradle Mihawk's cheek and give him time to step back. Except Mihawk, without knowing why, did not stop Akainu from kissing him.

Even the lips weren't the same. Akainu's lips were thin and chapped where Shanks's were soft and plump. Yet the intensity and the passion were there, the possessiveness too. Then, Mihawk closed his eyes and imagined that it was not Akainu who was kissing him, but his dear husband.

Mihawk came out of this feverish dream only when he was manhandled on the wooden table, Akainu's big hands grabbing his hips and the kisses deepening in a precursor for more.

Getting laid will do you the world of good.

Only when he remembered Dolfy's advice, Mihawk placed his hands on Akainu's thick shoulders and pushed him away, "I-I can't…," he stuttered, out of breath after those fierce kisses, "I can't."

Because it was wrong in a thousand and one ways. The main reason was obviously that Akainu was not and never would be Shanks. Secondly, Mihawk knew how to contain his impulses very well. Sharing a meal with another adult was nice, flirting was entertaining, but cheating on his husband? Whether Shanks was dead, missing, or waiting for him at home? It was unthinkable. Besides, Mihawk was too stubborn to follow the advice of the evil Barbie. If Mihawk let Akainu fuck him on that table then Dofly would know and tease him until the end of time and even after that.

Instead of pushing for more like anyone would have done, Akainu sighed and sat back in his chair, "are you still grieving?"

"I…. yes," Mihawk replied sheepishly instead of specifying that he was still waiting, that would be hypocritical after what he had just done.

Akainu shrugged as he unlocked his computer, "no problem, I can wait for you."

When Mihawk got home after finishing work, the kids were already sleeping. Ray and Shakky were just as dead, asleep together on the couch and the TV still on. So, Mihawk sighed in amusement before turning off the TV and grabbing a blanket to cover his parents. He then, took the opportunity to sneak into the bathroom.

Mihawk wanted to rinse his face before falling lifeless onto his couch. Except that while cleaning his face, Mihawk was forced to look in the mirror and he had difficulty recognizing his reflection; his lips swollen, in particular.

"What did I do?" he asked to no one but his reflection.

However, despite his promise to never give in to temptation again, when Akainu suggested celebrating the victory of their project in Baratie, Mihawk accepted.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9. A competition with a surprising price.

The peace. The loneliness. The silence.

Three things that Mihawk was currently sorely lacking. For once, just once, he would like to enjoy a quiet meal with only peace on his plate and silence as his companion. Except that Mihawk, as always lately was eating his salmon poke bowl amidst chaos, arguments, and bickering. All behavior that was not expected in adults, especially lawyers.

However, Doflamingo stole Crocodile's food as soon as the oldest had his back turned to talk to Boa. Barbie's childish act led to a conflict as soon as Crocodile realized that a piece of meat had been stolen from him. For her part, Boa also grumbled whenever the two men threatened to spill food on her designer clothes.

Children, really.

Only Jinbe, who laughed at the bickering, raised the general level of the bottomless lake in which Mihawk was drowning.

It was the same story every Friday for a month. His comrades, led by his sister, would take over his office to eat with him. This was neither wanted nor desired by Mihawk and, despite his complaints, they continued to impose their presence on him.
Because the calendar on his desk showed June 1st and the Red Force had sunk on the 19th. The days were getting dangerously close to the fateful date and, as much as their hearts were as much made of stone as his, his exuberant colleagues didn't want to leave him alone. Because certain dates on the calendar had been harder to bear than others, March 9 was one, March 10 another - their common birthdays and that of their marriage.

"Did you see that Teach already put his name up for the 'Paradise' project?" Doflamingo asked, bouncing on the couch like he was a high schooler ready to spread gossip during recess. And wasn't that a thought? They were all adults and powerful lawyers, yet here they were, sitting in Mihawk's office as if they were too good to eat in the cafeteria with the rest of their colleagues. They had even convinced Jinbei to join them, a sign that they were truly privileged compared to Teach, Kuma, and Moria.

"This is a call for tenders," reminded Jinbe who had hung up the poster this morning, "you can all apply to represent the cabinet in this matter."

"The admirals graciously left it to us because the island is small and rustic. Having the mayor of Skypeia sign these papers won't bring them any glory," Crocodile scoffed.

"There are still a lot of benefits," Crocodile scoffed and Doflamingo started counting on his fingers: "a free vacation on a paradise island where the weather is nice 365D/years and where you can sip your cocktails far from the capital. Fuck the admirals, they don't know how to enjoy good things! Teah certainly understands that. Which brings me to the main point: piss off that moron Teach. He wants a free vacation and someone here could steal it."

Mihawk looked up at Dolfy when he felt targeted by the "someone."

"I am not interested."

Doflamingo groaned, but didn't give up: "you need to take your mind off things; a vacation will do you good, especially in the sun. You look like Count Dracula and that's not a compliment."

Mihawk rolled his eyes when the description even succeeded in making Crocodile smile.

"There's another benefit," Crocodile interjected to support Dolfy when Mihawk didn't respond, "the commission. This job may not be high profile, but you'll still get a lot of money."

This argument aroused Mihawk's curiosity because easy money was always good to take, but he would have to travel before earning the check and it became much less interesting.

"Money is no problem," he replied coldly, annoyed that his friend implied he was broke. Mihawk was far, far away from this point and could take care of the five children and Chopper for a few more years. One of the advantages of working for the government who were afraid of losing them to the competition: The salaries were excellent.

"Even for the two baby birds you just collected?" Crocodile asked knowing he was going to hit a sensitive spot.

With his current salary, Mihawk was able to run the house, the two cars, the dog and the children's needs (food, clothing, and pocket money) while being able to put aside if necessary. Except his salary wasn't great enough to be able to create two new bank accounts for Zoro and Perona and allow them a secure future like he and Shanks had done for the trio. Now, for Perona, it was becoming quite urgent. She was sixteen years old, which meant she had one year of high school left before going to college. Of course, Mihawk was aware of this and, until now, was wondering if he could dip into Shanks' bank accounts without arousing suspicion, but strange as it may seem, Crocodile offered him a more legal route.

The old man smiled when Mihawk didn't respond, knowing that he was right and that the commission would make a good starting point for Perona.

"It's not just the commission," Boa interjected, glaring at Crocodile who frowned in return - what could be more interesting than money? She turned to Dolfy to ask: "didn’t you say the mayor was nice?"

Dolfy laughed as if Boa had just reminded him of an important point. He approached Mihawk and almost pushed him aside to steal his computer. The lawyer frowned at the Barbie's uninhibited behavior and shared a look with Crocodile. His golden eyes promised a slow and painful death for Dolfy but Croc just shrugged indifferently.

Certainly, an odd couple.

"Mr. Mayor of Skypeia looks like Eminem," Dolfy said amusedly as he showed Mihawk a photo and okay, there was some resemblance. "You could fuck or be fucked, we’re not too picky, with Eminem’s lookalike."

"It will already be better than Akainu," Boa added coldly.

Mihawk wanted to say that there had been nothing of that sort between him and Akainu, but his invasive colleagues were imagining things because of the dates. They had been confirmed in their theory since Akainu was working on the floor above. Since then, Mihawk had stopped arguing. They could think whatever they wanted, he knew the truth and had nothing to prove.

Against all odds, Jinbei took part in the argument, "a vacation might do you good, Hawkeyes. The trip would only take two or three days to get Mr. Ener to sign the government integration papers. You don't have to start a special relationship with him if you don't want to, a course of Vitamin D will do you the greatest good."

Mihawk sighed knowing he was doomed if Jinbei of all people stuck with these morons and muttered morbidly, "With my luck the plane will crash and I won't have to put up with you anymore. Out of my office, I have work to do."

Crocodile, Dolfy, and Boa left easily since they had won and Jinbei stayed just long enough to promise to write his name on the sheet. It wasn't necessary, but at least Teach would know he had competition.

If his death glare was any proof, Teach had certainly noticed that he had competition. Mihawk certainly had very little luck this year since he was stuck in the elevator with his Shichibukai colleague. He wasn't afraid of Teach, but no one liked being alone with him, especially when he was eating pie. Teach's lack of manners always made Mihawk shiver in disgust.

"Skypeia is mine," Teach said possessively as the elevator had almost reached the basement, "so you better quite."

The threat made Mihawk smirk and he replied confidently, "I've already sent my proposal to Ener."

The elevator doors opened to the underground garage and Mihawk was about to leave when an arm blocked his way, "you won't beat me and even if you did, I'll make sure you won't get on that plane. Your boyfriend won't protect you from me."

"You really lack class," Mihawk remarked disdainfully before giving Teach his deadliest glare.

Frightened, Teach backed away and left the field open to a victorious Mihawk.

The lawyer was truly victorious the next morning when he received an email from the Eminem lookalike inviting him to stay at Skypeia for the next few days.

His suitcase was ready that evening, the children had accepted his departure after almost an hour of vivid chat, and it was planned that Beck and Makino would take possession of the house. Granted, all the kids were over 10 now, but Mihawk didn't trust them for good reasons. Luffy was already a disaster on his own, so with Zoro on top of that, the house wasn't going to last an hour without responsible adults watching over them.

The trip was scheduled for Wednesday rather than the next morning so the lawyer could prepare the paperwork. They were obviously already prepared, so preferring not to play with fire, Mihawk spent the day out of the office to avoid meeting Teach. Instead, he used the key Ray had given him to train at the gym since he wouldn't be able to do so for the next few days.

His mental preparation began by changing his regular clothes for his sports outfit. It was a transition that was both common and perfect to indicate that he was leaving all his problems in the locker room. Yet, this last year, Mihawk had a hard time since he had started solving his problems, or at least the tension linked to them, by purging them on a Bob. At least it was legal to kill punching bags his father liked to call them. Still, Ray would have liked more Bob to survive the year. The old man had even started calling his son a "money pit" but it was just a joke; Mihawk kept killing Bobs with his fists and Ray kept replacing them.

Apparently, his father had found a tougher Bob to withstand Mihawk's blows and he named him "termina-Bob". Mihawk didn't find the nickname particularly funny or thoughtful but Termina-Bob fulfilled the promise made to him. The new punching bag was made of a material hard enough to resist Mihawk, even when he replaced his fists with wooden fencing sticks.

The last phase of his mental separation between there and here, between being a single parent and a fighter, a lawyer and a fencer, was to connect his phone to the speaker, choose his playlist, and put on the music thoroughly. The gym was empty at this time of the morning and Mihawk could take advantage of this to occupy the space as he wanted. Morning was the best time to practice his sport, Mihawk decided, because he was totally and completely alone.

Well, as alone as Mihawk could ever be.

He was testing Termina-Bob's resistance when he felt a presence behind him. The person behind him must have had suicidal tendencies to sneak up behind Mihawk while he was holding wooden swords in his hands. He turned around, ready to attack, but relaxed as he recognized the person with death wishes.

"I knocked," Smoker said smartly with a smirk before adding, "That's not exactly what I expected from you."

Mihawk rested the sticks on his shoulders as he listened to the song in question. It was a Citizen Soldier song, Strong for somebody else, which he hadn't exactly listened to until now, too focused on his objective for that.

"I was expecting Bethooven or Mozart," the police officer scoffed.

"I reserve classical music for my work," Mihawk clarified without losing his smirk.

Smoker hummed in amusement, "you sound like the guy who would have playlists."

And they are arranged in alphabetical order, Mihawk added sarcastically in his head. He wasn't really a fan of the judgment in Smoker's voice, but he was an inspector and Mihawk only offered, "you might as well make yourself useful since you're here. Pick your poison and come join me here."

"Aren’t you afraid of hitting an inspector?" Smoker asked although he was already looking at the wooden weapons at his disposal on the shelf.

Mihawk smirked, "you can always leave your badge on the shelf, if you're so afraid of losing."

Smoker ended up taking off his coat before choosing a long wooden stick and joining Mihawk on the tatami. They faced each other until Citizen Soldier's song was replaced by one from Skillet and, predictably enough, Smoker attacked as the first verse began. The lawyer, although confronting a police officer, had no difficulty in parrying the blow. He allowed Smoker the luxury of attacking him as many times as necessary to judge the difference in strength between them. It took Mihawk two more moves to know that there was an average gap between them. Obviously, the scales tipped towards the best swordsman in the world.

But Mihawk could recognize that Smoker was not bad and that he knew how to handle this stick, which was quite unusual coming from a police officer whose weapon was attached to his belt.

"So what is your presence here for?" Mihawk asked, easily dodging the new attack.

"I heard you were going on a business trip," Smoker replied easily, barely out of breath. "If it had been anyone else, I would have thought you were trying to disappear."

Mihawk dodged again with one of his sticks and asked in annoyance, "You're still convinced it's me, aren't you?"

"Don't take it personally, but in my experience, it's always a relative. The spouse, usually."

Mihawk gave a smile filled with derision but did not respond. He had nothing to prove to Smoker and knew better than to incriminate himself by crying foul.

"Garp says you're smart, enough to get away with murder if you wanted to, and that you wouldn't have killed Mr. Gold so crudely," Smoker continued while attacking relentlessly without ever succeeding in destabilizing Mihawk. "But you are also a showman, you like attention and being seen. Your husband's death brought you a lot of newspaper attention, enough to restart your career if you had wanted to."

"There were other, less expensive ways to get attention," Mihawk replied harshly, "besides, I can resume my career whenever I want. I'm no longer interested."

Smoker hummed before trying a new approach, "you already told me that you're not interested in the agent either, which the last few months have proven. So maybe the answer is a lot simpler. Crimes of Passion often happens in this type of case."

"You think I was cheating on Shanks," Mihawk spat in disgust as his stick smashed violently against Smoker's. He refrained at the last second from smashing his forehead into his opponent's simply for the love of the sport.

Smoker smiled as he noticed that Mihawk's shell of indifference was beginning to crack, "you seem to have quickly moved on with this Akainu. My men have noticed your rapprochement in recent months. So that's it, it's going to be a year so you are starting to slack off? The star-crossed lovers will finally be reunited?"

"He's just a colleague," Mihawk justified himself without knowing why. In his eyes, Smoker's judgment was on the same level as those of his colleagues: childish. However, Smoker was a police officer so his judgment was worth something legally speaking and Mihawk did not want to be accused of murder for the sole reason that he had accepted dates. Had sharing a meal with another adult become illegal without Mihawk knowing?

"A colleague who moved from Shin Sekai to East Blue for your beautiful eyes."

Mihawk scoffed softly, "it's for work," he parried another blow and added through his greeted teeth, "and it's temporary."

"Like your stalker, you haven't received a photo since when? A month? The timing is quite suspicious, isn't it? You're living a new romance and your stalker just stops."

"He was probably offended."

"Or you decided to stop this charade to focus on your boyfriend," Smoker contradicted as he backed away from Mihawk to better attack him. Their sticks smashed against each other, the wood vibrating, but the lawyer pushed it aside easily. He certainly hadn't stolen his reputation as the best in the world.

"You want to know what I think?" Mihawk asked rhetorically, as he easily shifted from a defensive stance to attack. It was second nature to him, but not to Smoker who was disconcerted when the swordsman suddenly attacked him. The pace of the fight changed drastically as Mihawk now led the way and attacked his opponent without giving him a single chance. "You were unable to find my husband apart from an arm, you can't find his killer and even less my stalker. So, you are trying to incriminate me to hide your incompetence."

In the space of a blink and a sharp movement, Smoker was thrown to the ground, his staff falling away from the tatami and one of Mihawk's against his throat.

The police officer gulped when he realized that the lawyer had been playing with him all along given how easily he had been beaten.

For his part, Mihawk smirked and threatened, "You better find a new target if you don't want to lose your government job."

Then he moved his stick away from the officer's throat and jumped off the tatami to put it on the shelf with his twin. Mihawk was about to go to the locker room when he felt Smoker stand up behind him and promise him: "I will never give up until I have solved this mystery."

"I hope so," Mihawk replied softly before turning to the officer. He could have stopped there, left and continued his day. Except that his last conversation with the inspector went back to the last photo he had received from his stalker a month earlier and there was a theory that had been nagging his mind for even longer. Mihawk had never dared to say it out loud because it was crazy and the implication was too heavy to bear. But the investigation of Shanks' murder was at a standstill while Smoker no longer had any leads and Mihawk needed to know if the officer was at least right about one thing ; if he had any part of the responsibility in the disappearance of his husband.

So instead of leaving, the lawyer asked, "Do you think the killer and my stalker could have the same identity?"

Smoker frowned at this question, "is that what you think or do you have proof?"

"I don't have any except the timing. You're right, it is strange. Shanks disappears and suddenly someone is interested in me? Isn't the opposite possible?"

"So your stalker would have killed Mr. Gold to take advantage of his absence and seduce you," Smoker deduced as Mihawk's theory piqued his curiosity, "I could start the investigation from scratch under this new prism. Maybe a new detail will appear."

"Let me know if you find anything," Mihawk ordered before finally heading to the locker room to wash up. His fingers itched strangely and he wanted to scratch the feeling in private. He didn't like talking about Shanks, not about his death anyway. it was going to be one year now and, more than ever, Mihawk felt the absence of his husband. He just wanted one more time, one last time, to be held in Shanks' strong, protective arms. Was that too much to ask?
"And don't forget to put your equipment away, you are in a respectable place here," he clarified, his hand on the doorknob.

Mihawk felt Smoker scoff at the word 'respectable', but he didn't take it personally and locked himself in the locker room where he released the shaky breath he had been holding until then.

***

The first thing Mihawk noticed was the heat, hot and stifling, a far cry from the temperate of East Blue that the lawyer preferred. He had barely set foot on the little island paradise that was Skypeia and Mihawk could already feel the sweat covering his body.

The fine white sand beach, the lush forest, and the magical tranquility of the small island were well worth this little inconvenience.

Mihawk inhaled and exhaled deeply the fresh air filled with sea salt, listened to the sound of the birds chirping, and basked in the warm rays of the sun and decided that he was awfully far from home. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Mihawk had a hard time admitting it, but maybe the change of surroundings was good for him, or at least it wasn't as unpleasant as he had thought. Looking out at the sea of incredibly blue and clear water, Mihawk realized that the unpleasant feeling in his veins had calmed down. There were no screaming children here, no co-workers to bother him, or overprotective families. Although Mihawk could still feel appreciative eyes resting on him - or his ass.

"Do you like the view?" asked the sight of the pseudo-Eminem or, as Mihawk had come to know him since this morning: Ener, the mayor of Skypeia. The latter had come to pick him up at the island's small airport, more of a space empty of trees rather than a real airstrip which matched perfectly with the mail plane in which Mihawk had come. Mihawk had not let the call for a drink and a rest dissuade him. He preferred to sign the papers straight away to peacefully enjoy the rest of his trip.

Said papers were now on the table, waiting to be signed by both parts. Mihawk moved away from the open window to the office where Ener had served them two regional cocktails; well, the lawyer could never actually say 'no' to a free drink. He sat in the large leather chair rather than the chairs reserved for guests since Ener had told him to make himself comfortable.

"It's quite nice," Mihawk agreed, looking towards his host who was already comfortably seated. The man had not stolen his title as an Eminem lookalike with his short blond hair covered by a white bandana, his whitish skin despite the sun, his clear eyes, and his pointy nose; even Mihawk who wasn't a huge fan of the rapper could see the resemblance. Other than that, his first impression of Ener was that he was as tall as he was confident and arrogant. It was visible in the way he spoke, his smile, and even his walk. But Mihawk didn't let himself be intimidated, easily taking control of their business meeting, although he could still feel the interest sparkling in the blue eyes, "Let's start, shall we?

Ener sipped his drink while waving at him and Mihawk began his work as a lawyer. For almost an hour, he explained the ins and outs of the papers that Ener would have to sign to join the World Government. Placing yourself under the protection of the government was not such an easy thing. There were as many rules, duties, and obligations as there were advantages and benefits. Certainly, the small island would experience a boom that would allow it to develop, but then its peace would be broken by the influx of tourists and journalists.

"I don't care what anyone thinks," Ener replied after Mihawk asked if his people were ready for all these changes, "I came to power democratically because they elected me. They must face the consequences now. Besides, they will have no choice but to adapt."

Mihawk raised an eyebrow, but didn't respond as he turned back to the first page of the file, the one Ener would have to sign.

"You don’t like how I talk about them?"

The lawyer shrugged his shoulders slightly to show his indifference, "I am not here to judge your personality, but to serve the interests of the World Government."

A smirk tugged at Ener's lips, as if he was happy to hear that the lawyer didn't care about his nastiness.

The lawyer ignored the blatant interest he could see in the mayor's lustful eyes and continued: "Skypeia certainly meets the specifications established by the Government. It has many significant advantages."

"Which?" Ener asked, placing his hands under his chin to appear curious.

"The landscape, climate and heritage are ideal for tourism and the island is geographically well located for trade."

Ener pouted slightly, "and its mayor isn't one of the assets?"

"A mayor is interchangeable," Mihawk replied sarcastically, deliberately ignoring Ener's advances. "However, you could have facilitated the transition by improving the island's infrastructure since the government will have to invest massively. You are lucky that the natural assets more than compensate. A great coup could have helped too."

"A great coup" Ener repeated curiously.

"An event that could have made Slypeia known on the world stage."

Mihawk frowned slightly as Ener's face darkened slightly, but he wasn't interested in knowing what had just passed through the mayor's mind and pretended not to see anything as he continued his explanations.

Finally, Mihawk finished his explanation and leaned back in the office chair to relax his tense muscles. He grabbed the cold glass of his cocktail that Ener had just filled back and thoroughly enjoyed its sweet, fruity taste on his tongue. The liquid was as refreshing as it was pleasant, like an explosion of exoticism in the lawyer's mouth. He recognized mango, pineapple, and orange, as well as a not-unpleasant aftertaste of alcohol. An artisanal production if Mihawk had to guess.

Meanwhile, Ener had finished signing the numerous papers and was looking at the lawyer with nothing but envy and curiosity. It was then that the sun reflected on the gold ring on the stranger's finger and only now did the lawyer notice its location, "you are married," the mayor remarked with disappointment.

Mihawk nodded, but didn't respond as he finished his drink.

"Why didn’t you bring the lucky lady here?" Asked the mayor to force Mihawk to speak as he was looking for a loophole; probably an admission that Mihawk was prone to cheating on his partner and that Ener still had a chance.

"My husband is no longer of this world," Mihawk replied in a harsh voice as he mechanically rubbed the wedding ring on his finger, "his ship was wrecked near here, in fact."

Ener hummed softly, "Your husband is Shanks Gold-Silvers and his ship is the Red Force, right? I remember getting an email from an East Blue detective describing him. I searched after him obviously..."

The mayor hesitated just enough for Mihawk's heart to skip a beat because of the maybe.
"..., but we haven't found anyone, I'm afraid."

Obviously.

If his life continued like this, Mihawk would have to banish hope from his heart. It was too dangerous, his heart had to stop beating like this. Shanks was dead. He wouldn't come back. And Mihawk had to start to make up his mind.

Yet Mihawk knew there would always be a tiny part of him that would continue to hope.

And, in the meantime, he will wear his wedding ring until his heart stops beating wildly at the mere mention of his Shanks.

Nonetheless, Mihawk remained impassive as he finished his drink and asked in a flat voice, "Didn't you promise to give me a tour of the island?"

Ener's smirk returned and he hastened to grant the lawyer's request.

So for the next few hours, MIhawk discovered in real life what he had only seen on a map and a screen until then: the lush forest, the city of gold which was not just a myth, and the picturesque village. They stopped at the village to eat since a market had caught Mihawk's attention. The food smelled good, the locals were nicer than the city dwellers, and the traditional music was pleasant to hear.

While biting into his savory crepe, some cream fell on Mihawk's cheek and Ener cleaned it with his thumb. They were close, too close perhaps, almost sharing the same breathe. Especially since the lawyer could feel the mayor's appreciative gaze on him, but this daring act was a continuation of this day, and Mihawk let it happen. He enjoyed the audacity of the youngest who dared to openly flirt with him, even if it meant being corny.

Maybe Smoker was right and Mihawk was letting his guard down.

Maybe Doflamingo wasn't wrong when he said that a one-night stand wouldn't hurt him.

Unless it was the heat getting to his head and the homemade alcohol was heavier than expected. Also, the general vibe of the island didn't help at all. Skypeia was like heaven on earth and Mihawk knew nothing bad could happen in a Celestial place.

In any case, when Ener offered him a dance in the middle of the village market, Mihawk accepted the outstretched hand. He knew that accepting this dance meant openly entering into Ener's game. It was like with Akainu, except that Mihawk had established rules with his colleague to no longer do the irreparable: the elder had to keep his hands to himself. However, here and now, Mihawk decided to play someone else's game.

"You think a dance will earn you points with the Government?" he asked ironically as the wild music became softer to accommodate their slow dance.

The mayor laughed in derision, "I've already won. Skypeia has joined the world government and you're in my arms," Ener added, squeezing Mihawk's hip with clear possessiveness.

"Oh, but you're a bit too straightforward," Mihawk replied, tilting his head to the side to look at Ener over the long brim of his hat, "I'm not that easily seduced."

"What more will it take?" asked his dancing companion as his hand threatened to go even lower.

As a smart man, Mihawk knew that this was the moment where he ordered Ener to stay in his place and not try his luck too much. But the sun shone so brightly that it would be enough to hide Mihawk's sins in its rays. Besides, what happened in Skypeia could very well stay in Skypeia.

No one would have to know...

Nobody knew him here...

"Hawkeyes!"

Mihawk frowned when he heard his nickname being shouted from the crowd. His heart beat wildly again, because the timing was strange. What was the coincidence that someone called him out just when he was thinking about cheating on his husband? Except that no one knew him on this island lost in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, even his reputation could not have gone that far.

And then, the voice seemed strangely familiar but the music was too loud for him to be sure.

Mihawk blinked, feeling like he was coming out of a strange dream. It must have only been an auditory mirage, just a prank of his subconscious to call him to order...

"Hawkeyes!"

"You heard?" Mihawk asked when he half heard his nickname being shouted again.

Ener looked at something over Mihawk's shoulder before returning all his attention to him, "no, why?"

"Nothing," the lawyer whispered after waiting a few seconds for his name to be called out again, but nothing happened. The auditory mirage had ended as the sinful thoughts had left the lawyer's mind. Just a coincidence then...

Ener moved away slightly to break their dance but his hand remained on Mihawk's hip, "do you want to finish the tour of the island by boat?"

Ener, a boat, and him, what bad could happen? Everything.

Mihawk hesitated and Ener added with a smirk, "don't worry, one of my bodyguards will accompany us."

"If you think he can protect you from me," Mihawk scoffed and, even though he hadn't yet formally agreed, allowed Ener to guide them out of the market.

His sarcastic remark earned him a laugh, but Ener promised not to try anything on the boat, and Mihawk eventually agreed. He wanted to get as far away as possible from this auditory mirage he had heard.
Mihawk had come to Skypeia to get away from his dull and tiring daily life, and to rest in a heavenly setting. Instead, the death of Shanks, who was slowly killing him day by day, refused to give him a vacation and seemed to follow him like a second skin whether Mihawk was in East Blue or Skypeia.

Quite literally in fact…

"MIHAWK!

This time, Mihawk was sure he wasn't hallucinating when someone shouted his name through the wind and waves. He turned towards the bank to find out who would be the impertinent one who would dare to call him so familiarly, especially on an island where he knew no one.

Yet, wasn't the voice strangely familiar? Hoarse, deep, and vibrating with intensity as soon as his name came out of a clever mouth.

Mihawk narrowed his eyes, blinded by the sun's rays. So much so that it took him a few seconds to spot the man standing on the dune. The first thing Mihawk noticed about the person who had addressed him was the missing arm, it was quite obvious despite the sun. The missing left arm to be more precise. Unfortunately, the sun prevented the description from going deeper. Mihawk could only see a vague shape of a man wearing a white shirt on a pair of colorful Bermuda shorts,

Nevertheless, his golden eyes widened when the sun's rays reflected on hair as red as a forest fire.

Mihawk stood up on the boat to get a better view, but they were too far away and the boat continued to move away from the bank.

Ener said something incomprehensible and stood up as well, his hand resting on Mihawk's bulging bicep. But the lawyer didn't listen, obsessed with the need to get closer and check if his heart was right to beat with such hope. So he pushed the mayor away before jumping out of the boat.

The salty water soaked his jeans up to his knees, but Mihawk ignored the unpleasant feeling as he ran towards the white sand beach. The water prevented him from running as fast as he wanted, yet, it was ignored too. Mihaw continued his efforts with even greater ardor until his boots finally sank into the sand.

Except, Mihawk didn't go any further as he found himself face-to-face with the stranger who had joined him halfway down the beach.

He stood paralyzed at the sight before him. This must have been another nightmare, there was no other explanation for the red hair and wide red eyes that had haunted his days and nights for the past year and that were now from an inch of him.

Did he forget to take a pill last night? Unless the dosage was no longer effective since this dream was strangely long and emotionally gripping.

Mihawk was 100% certain that he would wake up in his bed with only Chopper to keep him company if he blinked.

The person in front of him was just another mirage, nothing more than a nightmare.

So that's what Mihawk did, he blinked, but the mirage was still there, looking at him with the same perplexity in his red eyes. Although now that they were at the same height and the sun was no longer playing tricks on him, Mihawk noticed that the mirage was not as perfect as the one in his nightmares.

First, in his dreams, Shanks had always had both arms, which he didn't do at that moment since his left sleeve had been tied at the top of his bicep.

Other details differed from the version of his husband that Mihawk had remembered: the white shirt was wrinkled and open on a chest more tanned than ever due to the tropical heat of the island, the red hair was greasy, his beard was fuller than usual, and three new scars covered the stranger's left eye.

Strangely, the scars accentuated his husband's beauty and gave him a more wild and virile side. It was as if, in the space of a year, Shanks had gone from a young man who sought adventure to a man who found it and survived.

Because the man in front of him was Shanks, right? His Shanks? The mirage looked real and tangible, but they had all looked so real before Mihawk woke up, panting and lost in bed. Yet this nightmare was not like the others, it was longer, full of unnecessary details and others that Mihawk could not have invented. He couldn't imagine the sweltering heat of the sun on his skin or the cold water that soaked his pants.

Also, this mirage had abandoned perfection for realism, authenticity. Mihawk knew that Shanks had lost his left arm, he had proof of it around his left ring finger, but his subconscious had never been able to imagine it. He was facing it now. There were also the three scars that Mihawk had never seen before either before the accident or in his nightmares.

"Shanks?" Mihawk asked with a trembling voice as he couldn't bear another mirage. If this mirage disappeared or his hands closed on nothing and he woke up in bed with a dog then Mihawk would...he would...

Before he could figure out what would become of him if his hopes were dashed again, the mirage smiled tenderly as the uncertainty left his burgundy eyes and, for the first time, Mihawk received an answer: "yes, love, it's me."

Chapter Text

Part II : Red.

Chapitre 10. There is always a lighthouse.

September

At first, there was nothing but utter darkness.

Then there were some pretty irritating beeps that never wanted to stop.

And finally, there was the light, dazzling, blinding, and strangely pleasant and warm.

He blinked a few times before adjusting to the brightness. He hadn't expected to be so blinded after being stuck in the dark for what seemed like an eternity. But that was it, he was free to watch...

Windows open to paradise. It could only be that: paradise. In the distance, all he could see were the palm trees and, even further away, the ocean, soft and calm and so clear. Strange, wasn't the ocean supposed to be dark, raging and so dangerous?

He blinked again as he heard the raspy cries of seagulls, the waves of the ocean meeting the sand, and the excited ramblings of a young woman. She was there, on his right, talking about something he didn't understand while arranging a bouquet of colorful, wildflowers.

He stood up in the white bed he had been lying on until now. This day was too good to stay in bed any longer. Except that it was when he got up that he noticed his missing arm. He looked at the empty sleeve of his white t-shirt without understanding. He was missing an arm, how could he have forgotten? It couldn't be the kind of detail that was easily forgotten.

He was still looking at his missing arm when the young woman turned to him and jumped when she saw him awake and seated. A huge smile appeared on her face, which had until then been pinched by concentration.

"You’re awake!" she shouted excitedly as she moved closer to the bed, enough to imbue him with her good mood. He really looked at her for the first time from her two-tone hair, half red and half white, her violet eyes, and her white dress. How old should she have been? 12 or 13 years old? Anyway, too young to be a nurse. "Are you alright?"

"I…," he coughed through his dry throat, unable to speak. The girl handed him a glass of water and he drank for the first time in too long. Probably. Once his throat had calmed, he tried to speak again, "I'm fine."

"I'm grateful to hear that! You slept for three months without interruption! Gan Forr said that was normal given the state you were found in."

He frowned at the word 'found'. How could anyone be found? He wasn't an object, right?

Nevertheless, the young girl continued to speak without realizing her embarrassment, "I must say that you were in bad condition. All bloody, wet and dirty, yuck," she pretended to vomit before looking at him, "you look better now. Well, if this was your base head."

He accepted the mirror she handed him with his right hand and the gesture did not seem natural, artificial, while his left arm hurt to catch the object. However, he ignored the pain to meet his reflection. All he encountered was a stranger. He didn't recognize himself in the red hair that fell in soft waves across his forehead, his tired burgundy eyes, and the three scars running from above his eyebrows to the top of his left cheek.

He could be anyone else.

In any case, he felt like anyone else.

He lowered the mirror to no longer look at this stranger and asked in order to clarify this strange situation: "so you and I... we're not... related?"

"No, but I found you on the beach first."

"Oh," he replied with disappointment, but maybe there was still hope? Maybe they knew each other after all? In any case, he took his chance: "Do you know my name?"

The young girl laughed without intending to do so before noticing that he was serious and her laughter disappeared: "did you forget?"

"I…well," he hesitated before looking at his missing arm but nothing came. He didn't know if he was born that way or if he had lost it as the girl implied. Except that wasn't the only thing he didn't know. He searched his head for answers, but none came. No name. No age. No family. His head was like a blank page. "I do not remember anything."

October

They found him unconscious on a beach, his left arm half missing - the rest had to be cut off, too damaged to be preserved - and three cuts to his face bleeding profusely. Apparently, the memory loss was the fault of the three scars.

The memory loss was to be expected according to Gan Forr, the doctor.

His memories would come back little by little… supposedly.

The island on which he had landed was called Skypeia and as much as it was heavenly, it was also quite archaic. There was no running water, the electricity worked one day out of four, the houses were small, colorful wooden cabins, and everyone knew everyone. As for modernity, well, Red had arrived first since the televisions were these big vintage squares, and the radios crackled. No, Skypeia had cut itself off from globalization, which had its advantages as well as its faults. So, it was obvious that the hospital had no scanner to check what was wrong with his head.

The only advice Gan Forr had given him before letting him go was to be patient and that his memories would come back one day or another.

Except that the days had passed, twenty-one exactly since he woke up, and his memories were still stuck behind a padlock. His memories were still there somewhere, Red was sure. Yet, he knew they hadn't just disappeared, but they couldn't reach them. He didn't know who he was or how he got there. It was total nothingness and it was so frustrating.

He woke up day after day not knowing his first or last name, his age, or even the simplest thing about himself.

What irritated him the most was the lock that kept his memories out of reach. If he closed his eyes, Red could practically feel him and see him like a silver padlock that kept his blurred memories locked away. He would love to find the key, but he couldn't.

As the days went by, Red finally stopped worrying about nothing. His memories would come back or not and, in the meantime, he had to continue living. He had no choice anyway since he couldn't continue to languish day after day. Certainly, he had no memory of his past, but he still had a present and a future. He couldn't give up just because no one was looking for him.

It had been a shock that Red had a hard time getting over, honestly. He had met Ener, the mayor of Skypeia, three days after waking up, in the hope that he would have good news for him. Red knew exactly what he wanted to hear. He would have liked Ener to reassure him and tell him that someone, somewhere, was looking for him. That he was not nobody but a son, a brother, or a husband, and that his disappearance had gone around the world. Instead, Ener had shrugged his shoulders before crushing his hopes. Because Skypeia did not have internet access to do the research and Ener had not received any calls on this subject.

Nobody was looking for him because he was nobody.

Unless someone was covering up his disappearance?

Red had imagined many theories about why he would have ended up on an island with Uta while she taught him how to write with his right hand. It had been a strange surprise when they realized that his left hand had been his dominant one and that he had to learn everything again. It was only humiliating if Red let that feeling win. Instead, he had decided to make it an adventure with Uta as his second in command to accompany him.

So, together, they had discovered that Red was quite good with crafts. His right hand at least knew how to hold and use a hammer. He had even become quite good at hammering nails with one hand. So much so that Red had become the handyman of the small village, going from the odd stranger to an important member of the community.

As much as Red was happy to be useful, for Uta, it was not enough. So, they had a tradition after she finished school and he finished work: they would meet on the terrace of the house they shared and spend an hour working on his memory. Uta was so dedicated to her task that she even made signs to help.

He remembered the time she came home from school with her signs and ordered him to choose between two options without thinking. She wanted him to rely on his instincts to make the choice that the old him would have made. Red laughed at the bossy tone, the girl only succeeding in being cute in his eyes, but he obeyed when she threatened him with her signs. In any case, in the space of those two or three weeks, Uta had helped him so much that he couldn't have refused her anything.

On this island where everyone knew everyone from near or far and where foreigners were rare, Uta and he were the only ones who did not belong to this world. The thirteen-year-old girl had no family, only a guardian, so perhaps it had been fate that had guided Uta's steps to him.

She'd gotten him a nickname from his hair and eyes and found him a house they shared, so answering her questions was the least Red could do.

At least with this technique they now knew that he preferred dogs to cats, hamburgers to hot dogs, and summer to winter.

"We didn't learn anything interesting," Uta muttered disappointedly as she sat down next to him.

"I don't know," Red replied, drinking his beer, "any information is good to take, right? Now we know more than yesterday, but less than tomorrow."

"Stop philosophizing," the girl grumbled, rolling her eyes.

"Maybe I was a philosopher," the redhead scoffed with a smirk when Uta rolled her eyes again.

"That’s why they killed you: you were so boring."

Red grimaced before laughing, "tried, at least."

Uta started to pout so he ruffled her hair knowing she hated it and he laughed harder when she screamed.

"Come on, let’s go eat at Conis’s," he said, getting up and finally leaving Uta alone.

Uta shook her head before running to her room, "I have to fix my hair because of you!"

Fortunately, Uta was not the only one to help him since Red received help from the other inhabitants to acclimatize to this new life. He formed a strange circle of friends between Uta, the young aspiring singer, Gordon, her informal tutor and music teacher, Gan Forr, the doctor, and Conis and Pagaya, the managers of a bistro. They often met at the bistro to share an evening drink and Red, even if he had no memory of his previous life, knew that these little meetings soothed his soul. There was a familiarity to share a drink with friends at the end of a hard day's work. Especially to celebrate a special occasion like a birthday for example.

Conis and Pagaya had prepared everything for Uta's fourteenth birthday: from the banners, to the cocktail and mocktail, to the music and the cake in the shape of a musical note. Uta had practically burst into tears when she saw the surprise that awaited her at the bistro, but she had easily adapted by taking on her role as queen of the evening to perfection. The teenager was now singing on the small wooden stage. She was practically glowing and Red loved watching her and hearing her sing.

"You really like her," Gordon remarked to get Red's attention.

"She's a good kid," Red agreed, sipping his beer, "I appreciate her help and support."

Conis agreed, nodding quickly, "she deserves to become a great singer! Good thing you're there to encourage her, Red! She's singing better and better thanks to you."

"I'm not doing anything special, Gordon is the one to thank," Red laughed as he felt his cheeks redden at the compliments.

The musician only shrugged in silent acknowledgment that Red was more or less responsible for Uta's progress. Yet he didn't see what he was doing that was special other than taking care of her and letting her sing as much as she wanted without ever scolding her. He also helped her from time to time when she was looking for words, but he wasn't necessarily good at it. No, his role was to encourage him while the role of word thrower went to... to... Gordon, right? He was the professional, not Red.

"You are good with children," Conis congratulated him all the same.

He smiled softly, unable to answer because he didn't know why he was so good with children. Then, Red returned his attention to Uta, her singing always helped him find his inner peace, until the dim lighting flickered and threatened to go out. Strange, Red was sure he checked the little power source this morning.

"Mr. Mayor must be having fun again," Gan Forr remarked sardonically, looking at the little blinking light bulbs. His remark earned him frowns and disgusted grins. Even Conis's face, which was usually kind and cheerful, darkened.

"Fun?" Red repeated, slightly worried.

"Mr. Ener has a penchant," Conis began, coughing a little in embarrassment. She continued when her friends didn't stop her and she leaned forward a little to whisper, "He likes to use electricity when he's having fun...and sometimes it goes too far."

"A young woman has already been taken to the hospital with burns," Gan Forr confirmed with a small sigh.

Now Red, although amnesiac, had no problem understanding the context in which Ener used electricity. He grimaced as a visual image flashed in his mind and he drank the rest of his beer to chase it away. At least now he understood why the island had so little electricity despite the solar panels: Mr. Ener used most of the resource for "fun".

"Why don’t you do anything about it?" Red protested, putting his bottle down on the table with a sudden movement.

Pagaya shrugged, "we elected him."

"And so? It is precisely because you elected him that he must respect you and that you have the right to lodge a complaint."

"To whom?" asked Conis with a sad smile, "we are isolated from the world. No one will come to save us."

"Well, I'm here now," Red promised with a big smile, "so in the next election, we'll do everything we can to make sure Gan runs and wins!"

"Don't involve me in your little machinations, Red," Gan Forr warned, brandishing his cane, ready to use it to strike.

Instead of being afraid, he laughed and was delighted when Conis, Pagaya and Gordon followed his idea for Gan to become the mayor of the island.

"I'm sure the Shandians will put up with us if it's you who shows up," Conis added as hope flashed in her eyes.

Red sneered before nudging his friend, "The Shandians will put up with us no matter who shows up seeing as how Wyper has been glaring at you since earlier. I think he's planning my death right now," he added, looking over his shoulder to see the young Shandian glaring at him.

"We're just friends," Conis justified herself, her cheeks red.

"Uh uh, you should ask him to dance!"

"I can't!"

Red barked a laugh at the young woman's shy behavior, "you can! Right, Payaga?"

"Of course," the father replied with a gentle smile, "go have fun, Conis."

Not that Conis had a choice since Red had spoken loud enough for Wyper to hear them and decided to invite Conis to dance instead. The 18-year-old's cheeks turned even redder but she eventually accepted the outstretched hand and let herself be guided towards the dance floor.

Red smiled proudly as he saw Conis and Wyper dancing together. He had certainly done several good deeds today and therefore deserved another beer. With his idea in mind, Red got up to go to the bar and collect a new bottle of cold amber liquid when he was intercepted by Uta. The young teenager practically jumped on him and grabbed his arm to pull him towards the stage, "Sing with me, Red!"

How could he say no to that?

November

His job as a handyman sometimes took him to strange, dark, and dusty places.

Speaking of dust, Red sneezed three times in a row before deciding that it was enough for now and carefully descended the ladder after bringing down one last box from the attic. He grabbed it easily before returning to the living room where Conis and Uta were doing wonders of sorting and throwing out everything that wasn't necessary. Payaga certainly had problems keeping everything in boxes stored in the attic.

Red placed the box among its peers before collecting the glass of Ice Tea that Conis handed him. There was no alcohol in it, but the drink was refreshing and helped clear the dust stuck in his throat.

"So you found anything interesting?" he asked casually as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

"Newspapers, newspapers, and oh, more newspapers," Uta repeated boredly.

She was sitting cross-legged in the center of the room among piles of newspapers and other useless trinkets that they were going to have to burn. At least the newspapers will make excellent fuel for tonight's fire pit.

"We throw away anything over three years old or yellowed," Conis clarified with a gentle smile as she handed Uta a new plastic bag.

Red got the memo as he grabbed another bag and tackled one of the piles to help the girls.

They were halfway there when Red came across a newspaper that interested him. It was a people magazine on the Olympic games, not the most recent ones seeing how the paper was yellowed and the cover unreadable. The cover featured a young man with black hair and yellowing skin. Well, Red deduced that the man's skin was once white and that the island's environment had deteriorated the photograph. He couldn't recognize anything else about the man, which was a shame, Red was sure he must be cute. Too bad he’s too young and not on the island…

He frowned as he read the title "The Greatest [...] in the [...] : Hawkeyes..." and his heart skipped a beat before beating frantically. Red placed his hand on his chest without understanding this reaction. It was the first time since waking up in September that his heart had been beating so fiercely.

"Who is this Hawkeyes?" he asked Conis, showing her the magazine.

"Hawkeyes?" Uta repeated, curious, "that’s not a name."

"No, it's a nickname," Conis gently replied as she approached Red to retrieve the Magazine, "Hawkeyes is a young swordsman who has competed in the Olympics twice. We got lucky in both competitions that we got to watch and Gan and Dad fell under his spell. They were so impressed by his technique and footwork that they were shouting his name to encourage him."

"He's impressive," Red remarked with a strange feeling of pride.

"I could have shown you his competitions because Dad had recorded them on the VHS, but Uta recorded The Voice on it…," Conis said looking towards the teenager who shrugged her shoulders.

"The Voice is better than the Olympics! I'm an artist who needs a role model. Plus, one day, it'll be me on stage. Right, Red?"

He chuckled softly at Uta's confidence, "of course, sweety."

The teenager visibly beamed before returning to her work, humming softly.

For his part, Red turned his attention back to Conis, "don't worry, it's not a big deal," he said although his heart didn't agree; It was still beating fiercely.

"You can keep it if you want," the young woman replied, returning the magazine and Red's gaze fell again on the swordsman's yellowed skin. It was a real shame that the magazine was so damaged because the swordsman's face was unrecognizable. Yet, despite the damage, Red couldn't shake the feeling of déjà vu.

"I can't stop…. it feels good…."

"Promise me not to tell anyone, please…."

"Are you home? I can't… I can't… I'm going to start again... I can't... Please, could you come? I'll understand if you are busy…"

Red jumped when a small hand fell on his good shoulder and he dropped the magazine he was holding too tightly. Unfortunately, Conis was still worried when she asked, "Are you okay?"

"Um, yes," he replied hesitantly, unable to get the young and yet so broken voice out of his mind, "it's okay. The dust in the attic must have been playing with my head. It's nothing. Let's get it over with those piles and I'll go get the rest okay?"

"I can go if you prefer, as long as you promise there aren't any spiders up there."

"There are huge ones," he replied with a big mocking smile to chase the voice from his mind and to reassure his friend.

They continued working, but the voice didn't disappear as Red would have liked. Instead, it kept him up all night. The words repeated over and over in his head. He didn't know in what context they were said, nor why anyone would ask him to make such a promise. This person wasn't okay, right?

If he closed his eyes, Red was sure he could imagine the scene: a bathroom perfectly cleaned and the young man sitting against the wall who was hypnotized by the blood that escaped from his forearm.

Red didn't know where this vision came from or what it had to do with the world's greatest swordsman, but he could feel the padlock vibrating, threatening to give way, but stubbornly continuing to resist.

Frustrated, Red finally got out of bed, grabbed a pair of sneakers, and started running without knowing if it was to escape or to join the voice.

"…I don't care how long you leave as long as you promise to always come back to me."

Red ran even faster.

December

….

January

Red looked at the small phone in his hands, unsure of what to do with it. Well, his muscle memory sure knew how to use a phone. Except this one was rustic, small, and even had a keyboard. The feeling in his hand wasn't good, too heavy and thick compared to his old phone. The poor thing, a recent iPhone, had taken a swim in the ocean with him and, unusable, was gathering dust in the drawer where Red had thrown it.

"What is this?" he asked in confusion to Uta who was looking at him with excitement. He smiled softly before scoffing, "let me guess, you need an expert in vintage items."

"No, stupid! It's your Christmas present," Uta replied, rolling her eyes, although the excitement was still there.

The mention of Christmas made Red chuckle softly as he remembered his friends' perplexed faces when he gave them presents. Because of his amnesia, Red didn't remember Christmas until he read the date on the calendar. Instinctively, he knew that December 25 corresponded to Christmas Day and that, on that day, it was tradition to give gifts to loved ones. So, that day, Red had spent hours collecting gifts for the people who had taken him in like the stray dog he was and treated him like a friend. They had initially looked at him like he was a madman released from an asylum since no Skypeians celebrated Christmas before being disappointed that they had nothing to offer him - even though Payaga had let him drink for free the whole evening.

So, Uta had apparently decided to find and give him a Christmas present.

"There are games in it?" he asked although he doubted it when he noticed the brand of the phone. A Nokia. Obviously, these things were even tougher than Mjolnir but had no games.

"No, but Jack the technician managed to insert your old SIM card in it! He said it was too damaged and the phone too old to recover photos and videos from your iPhone... But he was able to recover your latest calls. It's great, right?"

"It is," Red replied with a huge smile as he looked at the phone in a new light. It wasn't just an old vintage thing, but a portal to his old self!

However, disappointment soon came when, after searching in the contact list, they only found numbers that made no sense. So, Red didn't give up and looked at the call history received. He scrolled and scrolled, again and again, until he reached the limit except that with a few exceptions, only one number stood out.

Red hesitated, his fingers on the call button because the person who owned this number must have had a reason to call him so much. Maybe they knew each other? Maybe this person could help him regain his memory? A dozen questions passed through the redhead's mind and his impulsiveness took over, ready to call, but Uta stopped him at the last second.

"Does this number ring any bell to you?" the teenager whispered, also looking at the number.

"No," Red replied with his own frown, "but there's only one way to be sure!"

"It might be dangerous, Red."

"Dangerous?" he repeated, looking into Uta's worry-filled violet eyes.

"Maybe it's a trap from your killer to find out if you're still alive or not."

Red hesitated since they still didn't know how or why he had ended up on Skypeia, injured and with amnesia. The best theory they came up with with Uta was that he had been pushed off a boat in an attempted homicide. They had tons of other theories ranging from Red being a fisherman, or a horrible man, or the human heir of Poseidon, or…. Yet, the one where someone had tried to kill him remained their main theory. Maybe their choice was due to Red's subconscious trying to warn them or they had been watching too many reruns of CSI: Miami. It could be a strange mix of the two too.

"Hmm, maybe," he mused aloud, "we must be close if this person has my phone number…"

"Probably a jealous family member…," Uta replied, her mind racing too.

"Or my wife cheated on me with my brother and they eliminated me!"

They continued like this for almost an hour, going from crazy theory to crazy theory, all inspired by episodes of CSI, until deciding that it would be a better idea if Red didn't call. Uta was right, it would be too dangerous if he called himself. So, they put a whole plan in place to hear the voice of the person calling without having to compromise themselves. Red still hoped that the caller's voice would awaken memories in him. More than that, maybe the padlock would finally disappear.

Red let hope seep into his heart, making his head lighter, and his steps quicker as they headed towards Gordon's house. It took a lot of cajoling and promising before the musician agreed to participate in their plan. It had to be said that the old man had difficulty resisting the teenager's puppy-dog eyes.

Once Gordon had agreed, Red handed him the paper where he and Uta had written a text for him to read. This was only a pretext to force the person to speak, and then to find out if they are a good person or not. Murderers couldn't like dogs, could they?

So, Gordon read the sheet for the first time, huffed in despair before picking up the phone, pressing the call button and putting it on speaker.

As the beeps echoed through the empty music room, Red waited anxiously, his left leg trembling while he was biting his thumbnail. The wait was going to kill him, he was sure of that. Just when he was convinced that no one was going to answer, someone picked up the call at the other end.

"Hello?" asked the hesitant and haughty voice of a young woman.

Red sighed before shaking his head, hope disappearing like water at low tide, because, no, this prim and aristocratic woman was not at all familiar to him.

Uta still signaled Gordon to continue and he grabbed the sheet to read the text nervously, "Hello, I'm calling as a representative of the 'puppyland' animal association. Dogs are humans' best friends, you know? It's normal for humans to return this love with checks…," Gordon laughed anxiously but the teenager encouraged him to continue: "sorry that's said strangely. I'm sure you love dogs too and would like to make a donation. To do so, I'll need your name and address."

"No!" replied the woman angrily and threateningly, "you have no idea calling people so early to defraud them! Call this number again and I will close your kennel! You..."

Red ended the call before the woman could continue to threaten them. He didn't need to hear more. The most important thing was that they had failed. Between the padlock that was still there and the woman's threats, this morning was not promising at all...

"Well…," Uta began softly to get the disappointed adult's attention, "everything would make sense if she's your wife."

"She sounded like a witch, didn’t she?" Red asked, faking a smile, as he wasn't feeling very optimistic or happy at the moment.

A small smile appeared on the teenager's face, "I don't see you married to her if that reassures you."

Red responded with his little smile, Uta's presence helping calm him down and put things into perspective. It wasn't the end, he could still manage to break the padlock and remember who he was. Otherwise, he would be content with this little island paradise, with his friends, and with Uta.

"You'd better not try your luck again unless you want to end up in dog pie," Gordon advised, returning the phone to its rightful owner anyway.

Later that evening, long after Uta had fallen asleep, Red left his bed and went to the beach where he settled down. He looked at the waves hoping they would soothe him enough so he could find enough inner peace to fall asleep. It was a failure when the woman's voice echoed in his mind again. So Red took out the Nokia and looked at it under the moonlight for several long minutes before trying his luck again.

The number appeared on the screen again briefly before suddenly stopping, replaced by a message. Red frowned as he deciphered the message filled with small squares because the device was too old to understand: "your phone line is no longer assigned."
Yet, Red tried his luck again by calling the voicemail, although he didn't understand why he hadn't thought of it before, but received the same result.

Red sighed before turning off the phone and putting it in his pocket, his heart tightening in his chest, and he watched the waves lapping at the sand for the rest of the night.

February

….

March

The pain in his arm hit him suddenly like a hurricane on a heavenly day. It was abrupt and sharp, his stump radiating pain with the slightest movement. Red certainly hadn't seen it coming since he hadn't felt any pain the day before. Sometimes his missing arm would hurt after prolonged efforts and a grueling day. Gan called this phenomenon 'the phantom limb' and Red couldn't have agreed more since something that wasn't even there anymore was hurting him.

However, Red had tried to get up this morning and be productive on this sunny day but had given up before even drinking his orange juice. The pain was too stubborn for him to have the courage to do anything when he had no urgent imperative. Everything he had planned could wait until tomorrow, Red decided as he went back to bed under Uta's worried gaze.

The teenager brought him food around noon and Red forced himself to swallow the cake not because he was hungry but to remove the worry from the teenager's face.

He was fine, the pain would disappear and everything would return to normal. It was not a big deal. Red would recover, he was sure of it. Granted, he didn't know why the pain was attacking him today specifically, but he knew it would go away. At least, that's what Red kept telling himself as he gritted his teeth to keep from moaning in pain. He was lying in his bed, the duvet covering him and his face contorted in pain hidden in his pillow. The blinds were drawn as Red tried to hide from the rest of the world and the pain.

It finally subsided in the evening enough for Red to decide to take a hot shower to wash the sweat from his body and soothe the irritated muscle.

On his way to the bathroom, his attention was caught by the calendar hanging on the door. He looked at it searching for an answer without understanding. The date read March 9th and Shanks' heart skipped a beat, then another, until the pain in his arm disappeared, replaced by the one in his chest. He fell to his knees, his remaining hand clutching his shirt where his heart was now racing and his breathing irregular.

Oddly enough, even though he didn't know what March 9th was supposed to mean, Red knew deep down that it had to be somewhere.

A sob left his throat, again without Red really knowing why, and he begged to no one in particular, "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"

April

….

May

….

June

Since waking up in September, Red found that running helped soothe his head and body, both of which were too tired to think or move. Above all, running had allowed him to discover the island in its entirety and, since then, he knew every hiding place, every paths, and every danger. It was actually more relaxing to run at night, when the rest of the world was asleep, because then, Red had the impression of being the only living being on this island. It was like he was king of the world for a few hours and he loved the feeling.

So it was common for Red to run for hours until his clothes were drenched in sweat, his calves ached, and his head was a tired fog. However, a frightened scream pierced the fog and Red stopped running to make sure it wasn't his imagination. Except he heard the scream again and, this time, ran straight towards it.

He stopped again, completely frozen in place, facing the scene before him: a young woman in her twenties struggling in the arms of a taller, older man. She tried to fight as best she could, screaming and slapping him, but his grip on her was just too strong.

At the third cry for help, Red ran into the sand to separate the young woman from her future rapist. He was stronger than the other man and managed to place himself between the poor scared woman and… Ener. Red's burgundy eyes widened as he noticed the almost white blonde hair, pale skin, and light eyes. He may not have spoken to the mayor much since arriving on the island, but his body was unusual enough to be recognized even in the faint light of the moon.

"Don’t touch her!" he ordered, keeping his defensive stance as he felt trembling hands grab him from behind.

Ener just smiled before responding in a slow, amused voice, "She's my employee. She belongs to me."

"She's a woman and not interested in you," Red replied without flinching as Ener closed the gap between them. Sure the mayor was taller, but Red knew how to fight. If they were to fight, he was sure he could win, missing arm or not. "You should leave before you make a fool of yourself."

"Don't you dare give me orders on my island."

"It was never your island."

"Don't play savior of the damned, Red, it won't do you any good," Ener mocked, laughing sardonically.

"Go ahead and threaten me, that will never make me kneel in front of you in fear. It takes more than that to intimidate me, Mr. Mayor."

Ener hesitated for a few seconds as if he was actually thinking about threatening Red. His gaze fell on the frightened and trembling young woman, but her bodyguard protected her even more fiercely. Fortunately, Ener must have been a smart man because he backed away. Except that his smile was still there when he declared with undisguised pride, "you can keep this whore who just lost her job. It's even a good thing that you intervened, Mr. Hero. You see, I better save my strength because I have a very special guest tomorrow."

Red scoffed easily, "who cares?"

As the only response, Ener laughed harder. Enough to make Red feel guilty for saying that. Sure, he had protected this woman tonight, but someone else will be hurt tomorrow. Maybe Ener's guest will be willing to play his kinky games.

Ener brushed past them to reach the dike and he whispered so that only Red could hear: "I'll make sure you hear him scream."

Then, Ener left after this enigmatic threat and Red finally relaxed. He smiled softly in a friendly manner and asked to the woman, "Are you okay?"

The young woman, who must have barely been 21, nodded gently, although she was still crying. So, knowing he couldn't leave her alone on the beach at one in the morning, Red offered to take her home.

The next morning, it was a man on a mission who woke up.

Well, to wake up, Red would have to have slept, which he hadn't. It wasn't his altercation the day before that had kept Red up until the early hours. No, it had been a year since he had been on this island - counting the three months he had been unconscious - and he hadn't advanced a bit. He still didn't know who he was, if he had family waiting for him, how he got here, or even the most basic things about himself.

It was infuriating, but since yesterday, Red had found out to whom he could direct his anger on. Mr. Mayor Ener always seemed to know everything that was happening on his island. He must know something, anything. But since their little altercation the day before, any hope that Ener would help him had fallen through the cracks. That was a good thing in Red's book, he didn't want to talk or beg Ener. No, he was going to find another way to find out who he was.

Red began the investigation as soon as he and Uta finished breakfast. He explained his plan to her and the teenager excitedly offered her help, as always. Firstly, because they were going on an adventure, especially because she wanted to help him unravel this mystery.

So they wandered the island all morning looking for something in particular. They found nothing in the village or on the beaches, but far from being discouraged, Red rewarded their efforts at the market. The heart of the village was more alive than he had ever seen it. There were banners, many more stalls than usual, the market smelled divine, and there was an orchestra directed by Gordon. Red had noticed the bustle of the market earlier this morning, but it was only while enjoying his cake that he noticed the strangeness behind all the smiles.

Looks like a set-up, he remarked, frowning with concern.

"What is going on?" he asked Conis

"Mr. Mayor is receiving a very special guest! Rumors say that he was on the postal plane this morning. Could you image that?" she asked excitedly, enough that her joy was contagious and Red smiled in turn. "In any case, Mr. Ener sent us a message this morning to prepare a party. He wants to show the market to his guest."

"It's like a zoo where we're the animals," Uta remarked sulking before pulling on his Red's arm, "are we going on an adventure again, Red?"

"What are you looking for this time?"

"I don't know!" Red replied, laughing as he let himself be dragged by Uta, "but I'll know when I see it!"

For the second part of this day, Uta and Red headed towards the city of gold. Red's instinct told him that it would be right this time, especially he didn't want to be wrong. He needed the tide to turn in his favor this time. So he walked briskly, wanting to get to the city as quickly as possible, but he was held back by Uta who was strangely lagging behind.

"Already tired?" He teased after waiting for Uta to reach him to nudge her.

"No! I'm copying your rhythm, old man!" The teenager replied, laughing, but Red could see the worry in her violet eyes and uncertainty was written all over her face.

"Hey, what's going on, kid? Talk to me."

Uta hesitated as her foot hit a small stone, but Red was adamant, continuing to stare at her with his own worry, and the teenager finally gave up: "What will become of me if you regain your memory? You will leave and I will be alone again..."

Ah.

Red hadn't thought about that, lost in his vengeance and excitement. He hadn't thought at all about how Uta might feel. Yet she supported him all this year, being the friend he needed and not once abandoning him. She had helped him learn to write with his right arm and had done everything to reactivate his memory. He couldn't abandon her, right?

He sighed before forcing her to look at him, "it doesn't matter where this adventure takes us. Whether it's a success or another failure. The most important thing is this," he said, pointing the space between the two of them, "We're on this adventure together, that's what really matters to me. And if I happen to be a noble or a nobody, well, who gives a fuck? In any case, if I leave, you come with me."

"Really?"

Red nodded fiercely at Uta's uncertainty, "every captain needs his singer, right?"

The uncertainty faded from the teen's face as she nodded and smiled proudly. Red couldn't help but smile back, he much preferred it when she was happy and full of energy. In any case, this little conversation had invigorated Uta enough for her to lead the walk from now on and Red had to shout for her to wait for him. The teen giggled before starting to sing and Red decided that leaving her behind was out of the question.

As promised, Red found what he was looking for after they entered the city of gold. He was leaning under the big gold bell when he found a small box that was emitting a green light, "Ahah! Found it!"

"What is this?" asked Uta who was crouching next to him.

"It's an internet box," Red replied, getting up quickly, so much so that he almost bumped into the bell but he narrowly avoided it. "I knew that if Ener had electricity for his BDSM activities then he must have internet too!"

Uta tilted her head adorably, "what is BDSM?"

"It's uh...well...," hesitated Red who felt sweat running down his forehead, "...I forgot."

"You're forgetting what you want," the teen remarked, pouting and sticking her tongue out at him.

Unable to allow himself to be ridiculed like this, Red stuck his tongue out at the teenager in retaliation, "that's adult stuff. Stuff you'll never do! And in any case, that's not what interests me. The magic of the internet will teach me everything I want!"

Uta stuck her head under the bell again to get a better view of the box, "is that the internet?"

"Yes, but it's just a router. Ener must have a computer or phone to use it."

"It’s probably in his house, you’ll never be able to get to it…"

"You think?" Shanks replied enigmatically, raising an eyebrow at the teenager. He continued to stare at her until she understood and he laughed when she automatically refused, "come on! You're not going to abandon me now?!"

"I refuse to be a distraction for you!"

"Because you're scared," Red scoffed, laughing. He placed his hand on her shoulder to comfort her, "I'm not asking you to do anything dangerous. You need to lure the servants out of the house with a little song. Ener must be sufficiently busy with his guest anyway."

Shanks insisted, promising that he wouldn't let anything happen to Uta so that she would give in and accept help in this latest crazy plan.

Together, they improved the plan as they walked towards Ener's mansion. It was simple, but effective. Uta would knock on the door and sing a song to get the attention of the servants while Red would sneak through the window and into Ener's office. For the plan to work, Red was relying heavily on luck as he hoped the mayor had already left with his guest and his office was empty.

Luckily, the wind finally blew in the redhead's sails and the office was empty when he slipped inside. He got up easily and waited silently to make sure he hadn't been heard. From what he could hear, the mansion was quiet, except for Uta's song which echoed even through the closed door. So, Red wasted no time and started looking through Ener's things.

Hidden between two books, Red found a thin computer marked with an apple; a MacBook, if he remembered correctly. And fortunately, Ener was too cocky to password-protect his computer. It was bad luck for the mayor, but very good luck for Red who wasn't going to complain about his job being made easier. Especially since Ener was quite methodical in his files. Everything was classified in alphabetical order, even quite compromising files. If Red had time, he would have liked to search in more detail and perhaps retrieve a USB key to bring down the mayor. Except he didn't have time for that and he forced himself to concentrate on his main mission.

Red let his instincts guide him and after inspecting six unsuccessful files, clicked on the one named "Gold". He expected the file to be full of the city of Gold, after all, it would have made sense. Instead, there was just a single image and a pdf.

He opened the picture first and almost fell out of his chair when he came face to face with… him.

If the title "Wanted" was any indicator, it was a poster of a man missing at sea. Him, apparently. Because Red easily recognized himself in the photo which was in the middle of the poster. The man had long, dark red hair like him, burgundy eyes that sparkled with mischief, and even his bright smile was the same. And if it weren't for the photo, the description could have been confusing too: a man 1m99 tall, red hair and eyes, and tanned skin.

Shanks Gold-Silvers.

That was his name!

Red couldn't believe it.

He had a name: Shanks.

If that wasn't enough, the poster told him that he was married and the father of three children!

Red's heart... no, Shanks swelled with happiness upon learning that there were people waiting for him somewhere. They were looking for it, otherwise there wouldn't be a poster, right? He sniffled, but the tears continued to blur his vision.

He still forced himself to open the second file which only contained a few lines. Shanks reads transversely and his heart sank when he realized that Ener had lied to a certain Smoker by promising that no strangers had landed on his island.

"Fucking asshole," Shanks spat, closing the file before doing the irreparable thing by breaking the computer in his anger.

Shanks froze when he heard footsteps approaching the closed door even though Uta was still there. Perhaps they had heard him speak? How would he explain his presence in Ener's office? His position would be more than compromising as he sat in Ener's chair with his computer in front of him. His heart was pounding but Shanks didn't dare move an inch.

"Have you seen him? He's so handsome," a woman, probably a servant, said dreamily.

"Oh yes, he lloks like a lord," replied a second servant.

"And have you seen his butt?"

"Agnes!"

"What?" the first woman asked innocently, "either I looked at his abs or his butt... I didn't dare look at his eyes."

The second chuckled before admitting, "Me neither...they're so enigmatic."

"Yes…. shame that he's in the mayor's hands now."

"Poor man…," the older servant confirmed, "but you know we can't intervene. We'll be the ones punished otherwise."

"You're right."

"Come on, let’s finish this."

Agnes hummed absently and added softly, "I hope he's as strong as the papers say..."

Agnes and the older servant left but Shanks' heart was still beating fiercely. There was that name again, Hawkeyes. And, once again, Shanks couldn't shake the feeling of deja vu - or heard in this case. This nickname was familiar, but why?

Shanks wasted no time opening the search browser and he typed Hawkeyes' name into the search bar. The browser took a while to search, the page loading fragment by fragment to play on Shanks' nerves. After a full minute, the page loaded completely and Shanks came across a Wikipedia page and a photo to the right. The servants were certainly right, the man looked like a lord with his pale skin, perfectly trimmed mustache, brushed-back black hair, and purple three-piece suit.

There were his golden eyes too, indescribable, they were so beautiful and unreal, perfect and familiar.

Shanks felt like the golden eyes could read his soul through the screen. Above all, the feeling of déjà vu struck him even more. His heart was no longer beating wildly, no, it almost jumped out of his chest. Shanks knew this man, but from where? How? For what? Unfortunately, he didn't have the answers to his questions.

His memories of his previous life were there somewhere, Shanks was certain, but they were still stuck behind an invisible padlock.

Above all, what bothered him at the moment was his heart which was racing so much that Shanks was sure he was having a heart attack. The last time his heart had beaten this fast was when he held a magazine in his hand, the one about the best swordsman in the world, Hawkeyes. It couldn't be a coincidence that only Hawkeyes made him feel this way.

Thousands of questions ran through Shanks' mind, but his instincts reminded him that Hawkeyes were in danger.

"Mr. Ener has a penchant...he likes to use electricity when he's having fun...and sometimes it goes too far."

"I'll make sure you hear him scream."

"Yes, poor Hawkeyes. He's in the mayor's hands now."

Shanks might not know who this Hawkeyes was, to him anyway, but one thing was certain: he wouldn't let that jerk Ener hurt him.

So, the redhead left the mansion without cleaning up the mess he had made. He was too busy running for that. Shanks was sure he had never run so fast in his life. He tripped over a stone in his rush but caught himself at the last minute and kept the market in his sights.

The crowd was even thicker than two hours ago when Shanks arrived, out of breath from his sprint. The whole village must have been there. The locals were having fun, laughing and dancing to the rhythm set by the orchestra. Generally speaking, they seemed to be enjoying this surprise party organized by the mayor, whose every move they were monitoring. Shanks' friends had gathered near Conis's booth while most of the crowd formed a circle around something.

"Where’s Hawkeyes?" Shanks asked hurriedly between ragged breaths.

Gan Forr frowned and handed him a glass of water, "who are you talking about, Red?"

"Hawkeyes...the swordsman," he added after downing the water in one gulp, "the man with the mayor."

"Don't interfere, Red, please," Conis begged after realizing from Shanks' pinched, angry face that he was going to do something stupid.

But he didn't have time to soothe Conis's woriness, and he abruptly asked instead : "Where are they?!"

"Over there," Gan Forr pointed to the center of the crowd with a trembling hand, "Ener seems to like him…"

Shanks didn't stay long enough to listen to the rest of the sentence and abruptly pushed his way through the dense crowd. He was elbowing and half-apologizing to get to the other side as quickly as possible. Yet Shanks found himself unable to move as he reached the dance floor where Ener was dancing with his guest. He couldn't see the stranger's face, but he had a good view of his black hair hidden under a hat, his muscular back and his round buttocks covered by blue jeans. There was only one person on Earth Shanks knew who would wear jeans, boots, and a purple polo shirt on a paradisiac island.

A name threatened to slip out of his throat, but Shanks held it back, unsure if it was the right one and called out instead, "Hawkeyes!"

He moved forward while saying the nickname again but Shanks only succeeded in drawing Ener's attention to him. The mayor signaled two of his men and they grabbed the redhead's shoulders to force him back. Shanks, lost and confused, realized too late that they were pulling him away from the crowd and the market.

Ener and his guest had already left the dance floor when Shanks managed to escape the two gorillas blocking his path.

"Reeeed!" A small voice called out to him, waving at him, "They're gone over there!"

Shanks was about to join Uta when a big hand landed on his shoulder and he turned around to see one of the two gorillas. His hand clenched into a fist, ready to be violent to get to Hawkeyes, but Gan Forr beat him to it and hit the bodyguard with his cane.

"Thank you," Shanks said as the gorilla fell to the ground, unconscious.

"Come on, Red, go catch him!"

Shanks smiled before running to join Uta to the cheers of their friends who perhaps didn't know what was happening but who supported him all the same.

He resumed his run with Uta on his heels this time. She didn't ask him why they were running, but followed him anyway. Shanks was grateful for her support and was glad she was there as the investigation finally came to an end.

"My name is Shanks," he supplied anyway as they headed towards the beach; Uta deserved to be the first to hear his name.

"Shanks," she sang as if testing his name on her tongue and smiled, "it suits you."

They stopped running when they reached the top of the dune. All they had left was the beach to cross to reach the bank, but they were already too late. Ener, Hawkeyes, and a bodyguard were already in a boat sailing away from them.

"There's no way I'd run that fast... I'm a singer," Uta complained with difficulty, her hands on her knees. She straightened up before asking: "You know him?"

"I think so," Shanks replied as his heart sank as he saw the boat and his only chance slip away.

Just when hope wad fadding him, Uta pushed him with one hand on the back, "so what are you waiting for, idiot? Call him!"

Once again, the name tried to escape Shanks' throat, but he wasn't afraid of it anymore. He was ready to know who he was and the role Hawkeyes played in all of this. Then, he shouted the only name that came to mind: "MIHAWK!"

He shouted loud enough to be heard beyond the distance and the sound of the waves and the seagulls.

Enough apparently since the three men in the boat turned around, but Shanks only had eyes for one of them. The one with the enigmatic, penetrating golden eyes that widened in surprise. The swordsman was so surprised that he got up in the boat. Ener imitated him and grabbed Mihawk's arm to prevent him from falling or to hold him back. Except, the black-haired man easily pushed him away and he didn't hesitate to dirty his clothes as he jumped into the ocean and ran towards the shore.

Shanks watched the swordsman's impulsive actions with his own wide eyes as the man must have known him if he was running towards him. In any case, his heart had finally stopped hurting him. He was burning with joy inside his chest.

Uta pushed Shanks on the back again to encourage him to move forward.

Shanks raced down the dune, nearly falling, at the same time as Mihawk reached the beach. He stopped a few meters from the swordsman who imitated him and they looked at each other, neither daring to move.

For the first time, Shanks had the opportunity to get a good look at the swordsman. His golden eyes filled with tears, his pink lips open in surprise, the hope etched on his face, and his firm and muscular body of which Shanks knew every particularity.

He now knew why his heart would pound so hard in his chest at the slightest mention of Hawkeyes.

Because even if Shanks couldn't remember himself, his heart could never forget who he belonged to.

"Shanks?" asked the swordsman's trembling voice. That voice wasn't supposed to shake or be so weak. It was made to be harsh and authoritarian, even cold and deadly. Yet Shanks knew that this voice could also be mocking, disdainful, filled with pain and broken,and could reach high notes if caught in the throes of pleasure.

He knew, because Mihawk was his soulmate.

"Yes, love, it's me," Shanks replied without the slightest doubt.

A half hiccup, half sob sound left Mihawk's throat and he ran towards Shanks to close the gap between them.

The padlock cracked when Mihawk jumped into Shanks' only arm and he received him effortlessly, making his husband swirl easily.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11. Messy Memories.

Between Mihawk's busy work and Shanks' master's degree, they didn't have the opportunity to see each other as much anymore, but they made it work. In any case, Shanks, who was freer in his actions than Mihawk, forced fate so that they could see each other. So, night after night, Shanks would run from the university to Mihawk's work to walk together to the older man's apartment. That was the advantage of living in the same city, unfortunately, the capital was huge and Shanks always had to rush to arrive a few minutes before Mihawk came out.

Shanks had started this tradition during his disastrous first year of college, although it was simpler back when Mihawk was also a student. After this first semester, which he had validated at the last minute even though he had only attended a quarter of the classes, Shanks had sworn to himself that he would take his life back in hand and that the second semester would be the his. He had certainly kept his promise since he did not need any help to complete the second trimester. Except that to prove his efforts and thank his incredible boyfriend, Shanks had started walking him home or accompanying him to his practices.

Shanks was now in his first year of masters, but he had kept the tradition alive.

The only time Shanks hadn't kept his promise was yesterday as he was beaten at his own game by Mihawk himself who was waiting for him in front of the university. For the occasion, the eldest had rented a motorbike and took them far from Shin Sekai to celebrate their common birthdays. Shanks had loved the surprise as soon as he had the opportunity to hold his boyfriend's hips and press his chest against the muscular back. And Mihawk had certainly planned everything for this special evening that they had spent in a chalet which juxtaposed a magnificent lake. There had been relaxing music, exquisite food, an exchange of gifts - Shanks had planned a multitude which he had kept in his bag all day - and they had certainly enjoyed the bucolic setting.

So when Mihawk ordered coffee from their favorite establishment, Shanks didn't make fun of the elder's addiction as usual. They had returned to Shanks' apartment just in time to drop off their bulky presents before Mihawk drove him back to the university. It was a shame the eldest had to return the rental bike, Shanks would have loved to see him ride again… God, those muscular thighs were going to kill him; It would be a good death, though.

As usual as they walked aimlessly through the city under the fading rays of the sun, Shanks led most of the conversation while Mihawk nodded here and there. The only times the energetic redhead kept quiet was to enjoy his hot chocolate. Except here, he had a lot to plan and he had to talk logistics with Mihawk.

"Yasopp finally admitted to me that he and the guys were planning a surprise party for me. Well, it's not really a surprise because I love parties and this is the third one they've had," Shanks laughed loudly at the fact that his friends were more predictable than Mihawk while they were more resourceful than the swordsman when it came to birthdays, "you'll be there, right?"

"They're already planning to kidnap me," Mihawk confirmed boredly as he sipped his coffee.

"And you’re going to let them?"

"Maybe, if you behave."

An outraged look crossed Shanks' face as he turned to his impassive boyfriend, "wasn't I very good for you last night?"

"You only behave when it suits you," Mihawk replied before tugging on Shanks' hand to keep them walking.

Shanks didn't deny it. Instead, he silently thought about what he should wear for the evening before one detail jumped out at him: "I was supposed to watch Ace this weekend, but he's too young to come to the party with us."

"He can always attend for a few hours and I’ll leave early to take him home."

Shanks stared at Mihawk unimpressed, "you're just looking for an excuse to go home early. No, I'll have Ray watch him Friday night and Saturday until late afternoon. At least we'll can take care of Ace for the rest of the weekend."

"You shouldn't drink too much then," Mihawk replied sarcastically.

"Ah well, my little brother is worth the sacrifice! I don't want to leave him too much with our Uncle George. The man and his wife have always been weird and Ace doesn't like them very much. I don't want to give them another reason to keep Ace away from us..."

This wasn't the first time Shanks had talked about having full custody of his little brother. So much so that his project had become 'their' project, having custody of Ace would not only change his daily life, but also that of Mihawk, so Shanks insisted on using the 'we'. The first time his mouth had slipped, Shanks had expected a reprimand but the elder hadn't mentioned it, proof that he accepted whatever Shanks was going to get him into. Except, for once, the young lawyer offered no words of comfort as he suddenly stopped walking.

"I know that it would change our daily lives and that looking after a child is complicated. Except that you already have a job and I only have one year of master's to do before I can officially take over dad's business. With Beck we have already made most of the big changes, so there'll just be some paperwork to fill out. I know we can do it! We'll probably have to go back to East Blue, but Ace deserves the effort. He we need a solution so that we can keep him permanently... You can find one, right? You are the best lawyer I have..."

Shanks stopped talking when he noticed Mihawk was on one knee. He had put his coffee on the ground, probably to tie his shoelace. Shanks began to doubt his hypothesis when Mihawk gently grabbed his hand.

"There's not much I can offer you, I don't even have a ring. But if you're looking for a solution to adopt Ace, then I have one. Marry me, Shanks," offered gently Mihawk who, although his cheeks were red, spoke without shame and looked straight into Shanks' shocked eyes. There was so much love in the golden irises that Shanks almost drowned in them.

The young man, who had only been an adult for a day, swallowed without managing to speak. He couldn't decide if he was more shocked or happy that Mihawk dared to make this proposition to him. For months, Shanks had imagined himself married to Mihawk since he considered that they had reached this stage of their relationship. They got along well despite the bickering between them, were relaxed in each other's presence, and had reached a peak of trust after the I's were dotted long ago. . So yes, Shanks had already thought about a future with Mihawk: a church wedding, buying a house, and having a dog.

Except that each time, it was him who made the proposal. This was supposed to be extravagant in order to live up to Shanks' feelings for Mihawk. And each time, the eldest, who was notoriously known for being emotionally constipated, agreed with a nod of his head once.

However, the emotionally constipated man had just robbed Shanks of the chance of a lifetime. There was no plane, no fireworks, and even less of an evil plan. Instead, they were in the middle of a street, their drinks were turning cold and the sky was orange. And, as Mihawk had pointed out, there wasn't even a joke.

MIhawk misinterpreted Shanks' silence and continued speaking with an unfamiliar nervousness, "I know I'm not the best at expressing my feelings or at least not like you do. You're a true ray of sunshine that illuminates me day and night with your presence, your petnames, and your stifling affection. Yet, I love being in your shadow. It is so warm, big and protective. It is for your good humor that I like spending my time with you even if I don't know how to show it to you because you're not as boring as the rest of the world."
For a second, Mihawk hesitated, then he added calmly, "you saw the worst in me, but instead of being afraid or disgusted by it, you accepted it. You never treated me like a fragile little thing that could break at the slightest negative remark. You make me feel alive, like I have a new dream, and I don't know if the feeling is mutual. You'll probably get bored with me, because I'm not as crazy as your friends... I'm too serious, careful and, honestly, I don't understand half of what you say about maritime science, but I love you. Would that be enough?"

"Of course I agree to marry you, love," Shanks replied lovingly as his heart beat lovingly and tears threatened to fall from his eyes.

He grabbed Mihawk's hand to help him up and hugged him with all his strength, his arms around his neck. Mihawk responded just as forcefully, his hands on the redhead's hips to keep him close.

Also, since their special moment had attracted the attention of curious people, he whispered in his new fiancé's ear what he had been thinking about for a while now: "you don't even realize how perfect you are , angel. So hard and strong, and yet, so soft to me, just to me. I was so lost the year my parents died, such a pathetic fucking wreck, but you were there. You helped me kept me from getting lost in the darkness of my head because you are my light in the storm, Hawky. I love you so much."

And then, they parted slightly so that their mouths could meet in a wild kiss filled with love and promises of a future they would build together.

Mihawk smiled softly as he struggled to get away from the octopus holding him. He bent down to retrieve his coffee before taking Shanks' hand in his again and pointing to an establishment, "It's a good thing you're accepted, because the town hall is right here. We could see if They still have room for us to get married?"

"You're not wasting any time," Shanks laughed even though he allowed himself to be pulled towards the town hall. Mihawk could say whatever he wanted, he was certainly as bold and crazy as Shanks. They had barely been engaged for a minute when the eldest was already proposing that they get married.

Shanks threw his empty cup in the trash before entering out of respect.

Even though he was beyond excited to marry Mihawk, he still felt worry rising within him as they waited for the secretary to return. What if there was no room at all for tonight? It was a bit rushed and the list must have been very long. At least, that's what the secretary had told them before Mihawk intimidated her by pointing out that he was a lawyer working for the government. The young woman suddenly turned pale before leaving her chair to speak to the mayor.

Shanks couldn't help but laugh at the whole situation because it was the first time Mihawk had used his rank as a lawyer to get what he wanted. His laugh drew the older man's curious gaze to him and, instead of admitting his thought, the redhead decided to tease his fiancé: "Your proposal was an ulterior motive after seeing the town hall, right?"

"Are you going to complain now?" Mihawk replied without denying the accusation.

"Not at all, it was just an observation," he leaned closer to the swordsman to whisper in his ear, "I love it when you're all bossy and bossy."

Mihawk looked back at him, also filled with excitement, but did not have the luxury of responding since the secretary arrived at that moment, "the mayor is ready to receive you."

Shanks and Mihawk were married before the evening was over.

***

"Oh, shut your crap, I'm already putting my shoes on. Wait for me," Shanks added abruptly as he rushed to put his shoes on. So much so that he almost fell, but managed to land on the next piece of furniture. Fortunately, Mihawk had already disconnected the call and hadn't waited for Shanks to almost fall.

The young teen slipped his phone into the pocket of his gym shorts before running into the living room where his mother was watching some random TV show.

"I'm going out," he warned, kissing the top of Rouge's forehead, "didn't expect me."

"It’s almost 10 o’clock, darling. It’s a little late to go for a run…"

Except Shanks didn't wait as he was already starting to leave the living room, "I'm going to Mihawk's!"

"Tell him hello…," Rouge called out to be heard, but Shanks only half heard as he was already closing the front door behind him.

Unlike all the times before, Shanks wasted no time untangling his headphones before running straight towards Rayleigh and Mihawk's apartment. Fortunately, their building wasn't very far, fifteen minutes by walking or eight by running. Today, as he remembered the strange call he had just received, Shanks intended to beat his record.

The call had started like every other since Shanks had found out Mihawk was cutting himself and they were trying to develop a relationship between them. For the moment, while Mihawk was still quite mentally unstable - not that the eldest would ever accept this description - they were content with kisses - a little on the mouth, especially on the cheek - and affectionate gestures coming mainly from Shanks. They weren't exactly dating yet, but they were friends who really liked each other. Was that even a thing? Shanks wasn't sure.

Except Shanks loved endless conversations as he bothered Mihawk while the swordsman was alone on a train. He also often called the eldest at random times to hear Mihawk's cold and calm voice. Shanks led most of the conversation except when the student was reading an article aloud. Shanks usually fell asleep, lulled by the elder's soothing voice, but that wasn't the point.

The point was this call which started strangely with silence.

"Missed me, Hawky?" Shanks asked as he paused his video game and checked the caller ID when he received no response. Yes, it was indeed Mihawk.

"Are you home?" was the response.

Usually, Shanks would have laughed at that question. What was his reputation that Mihawk asked him if he was home on a Friday night? But something sounded incredibly wrong in the elder's voice so the redhead opted for the truth, "I am. Why?"

"I can't… I can't…," Mihawk began, but swallowed halfway.

Shanks jumped out of his chair worriedly, "what's wrong? Talk to me, Hawky."

"I'm going to start again…," replied a voice so fragile, hesitant and small, almost broken, that Shanks' heart split in two in his chest. He was unable to answer and Mihawk continued in the same tone: "I can't... Please, could you come? I'll understand if you are busy…"

Except at that moment, Shanks was already down the stairs putting on his shoes.

Worry still gripped his heart in a tight grip because Mihawk was far, far away from being needy and broken. Knowing the swordsman like Shanks had for three months, the eldest would rather cut off a finger with Yoru than admit that he wasn't doing well. Especially since, since their agreement, this was the first time that Mihawk himself mentioned having been injured in the past.

This was also the first time Mihawk exploited the clause Shanks had included in their deal. If Mihawk felt like he was going to dive again, then Shanks would be there to talk him out of it. In exchange for their friendship, Mihawk had promised never to cut himself again. It was their agreement and until now, Mihawk had never explicitly admitted that the urge was too great to bear alone.

So Shanks continued running and managed to break his record by opening the Silvers' door six minutes after leaving his house. Had he mentioned that Rayleigh and Mihawk lived on the top floor of a twelve-story apartment? Yeah, it was probably a detail at the time.

As usual, the Silvers' door was unlocked because who would be crazy enough to rob the house of the best swordsman in the world and his former mentor? To his credit, Rayleigh didn't jump when Shanks suddenly opened the door before stepping inside. He barely remembered to take off his shoes, tossing them carelessly as he left the entryway for the living room.

"What’s up, kid?" Ray asked him without turning around from where Rouge was watching the same show with Shakky pressed against him and little Boa. The three of them were now too used to Shanks coming in at any time of the day after spending the summer vacation chasing Mihawk.

"I'm here to see Mihawk," the redhead replied as he walked through the living room that opened onto the hallway and the student's room.

This time, Ray turned to ask, "Is Mihawk home?"

Except Shanks didn't bother answering as he ran down the hall to join Mihawk. He didn't bother to knock either, entering the small room without permission, and closing the door behind him. He stopped suddenly as he was greeted by the sight of Mihawk pacing around his room. How had the student's family not heard him tracing a circle with his feet in his room?

The room was in total darkness except for the rays of the moon since the blinds were not drawn. One of them flashed across Mihawk's face, making him even paler than usual, and revealing the tear stains on his cheeks.

Surprised, Shanks flipped the switch to reveal Mihawk in all his broken glory. He was still wearing his training clothes since he was coming back from a competition at South Blue. Only now, Shanks remembered that Mihawk wasn't even supposed to be home because of his recent competition and should have gone back to his apartment at Shin Sekai. Which only meant…. Mihawk had changed trains so he could see Shanks tonight.

The redhead swallowed at the realization, but his reaction was less than that of the eldest who jumped, frightened since he had not heard Shanks come home. Mihawk turned his face towards the redhead who had all the luxury of seeing how messy his friend was. In addition to the tears, Mihawk's raven hair was spiky, proof that he had pulled on it too many times, his eyes were rimmed with red, and his right cheek was stained with a bruise. It was huge, taking up half of the swordsman's cheek, was already swollen, and tended towards purple.

Had Mihawk been punched during his fencing competition…?

However, Mihawk was not the type of sore loser to cry after a defeat. Shanks had already witnessed one of Mihawk's defeats a long, long time ago, and the elder had not cried. Instead, he stayed quiet for a week and trained three times harder until he easily won against another opponent.

"Mihawk?" he asked hesitantly when his friend remained as still as a Greek statue in Rome. "What happened?"

But Mihawk began pacing around his room again, his hands in the soft strands of her hair, and a tear rolling down his bruised cheek.

"Y-you…lost in your competition?" Shanks said with even more hesitation.

"I win," Mihawk spat, although his voice was still shaking and he did his best to hold back his sobs.

Finally, Shanks stepped forward to stop Mihawk from setting his floor on fire and he asked, "You called me for my help, I'm willing to give it to you, but you need to talk to me."

"I...I...I won and everything was fine," Mihawk began as he spoke softer, as if reliving the scene, "and then, when I came out of the gym... H-hi... Hinata was there with her new boyfriend, some kind of biker. I don't know. He was dressed like one. She wanted me to come home with her. She said... she said I was impressive at the Olympics and It’s been… it’s been two years, damn!"

Shanks blinked at the insult coming from Mihawk's distinguished mouth. The eldest was not the type to swear like a sailor in a port. In fact, he made a point of avoiding insults, much preferring elaborate sarcastic remarks. However, Shanks didn't mention it as new fresh tears appeared in his friend's pretty eyes.

"I refused her offer and told her to leave me alone, that I never wanted to see her again. I finally abandoned her like she did so many times. Because she is only here for my fame. She was never interested in me before. But she continued... saying that she wanted to be a good mother to me, that she missed me and loved me and that it was her fault. Ray, that he separated us. Except that's not true."

"Rayleigh would never have done that to you," Shanks confirmed gently to ease Mihawk's doubts.

"I don't remember what I said to her," the student admitted as he fixed his teary eyes on the younger one, "but the biker ordered me never to speak to him like that again and I responded that I didn't receive an order for Hinata's fifteenth toy. He took it badly and we started arguing..."

Mihawk cut himself, ashamed to admit what happened next, but Shanks had already guessed what had happened. Mihawk's smart mouth had pushed the biker too far who had hit him.

"I couldn't... I couldn't... Shanks," Mihawk said in the closest thing to a plea, to a request for help, as his breathing accelerated at the same time as his breath became rarer.

Shanks didn't need to hear more as he pulled Mihawk towards him. The eldest, four years older than him, was obviously taller than Shanks, but they didn't care. The swordsman's arms encircled the younger boy's neck as his head hid in his neck. For his part, Shanks held Mihawk carefully, one of his hands rubbing soothing circles on his upper back while the other played with the soft black hair.

"I couldn't stop him," the elder whispered as his sobs shook his body, "I'm sorry for being pathetic."

"Shhh, you're far from pathetic, Hawky. You're the strongest person I know to ask for help when you need it. You're so brave, don't listen to those who want to hurt you ."

Shanks continued to cajole Mihawk with gentle words consisting of "shh", "breathe", and "it wasn't your fault". He repeated his words over and over again until Mihawk began to believe them, his breathing slowly matching Shanks' steady ones. Yet, the redhead still didn't let go of his friend, even after the sobs and tears had stopped. Instead, he guided the older child to his double bed and helped him sit on it. Then he retrieved a wet cloth from the small adjacent bathroom and wiped away all traces of tears on Mihawk's cute face.

"There, it's all gone," he whispered before kissing his friend's forehead, "the desire is over?"

"For now" Mihawk replied before tugging on Shanks' hand to force him to sit next to him. The redhead responded to the silent request by wrapping his arm around the swordsman's strong shoulders and bringing him closer to his chest.

They remained in silence for a long time after Mihawk actually wiped away all traces of his crying by blowing his nose. Shanks was more than happy to stay there, Mihawk curled up against him as his breathing finally completely calmed down, and reassuring himself that he wouldn't do anything stupid tonight.

But, as usual, it was him who broke the fleeting peace, "It's been three months, Hawky. You need to tell Ray, especially after what happened."

"Not yet."

"Mihawk… Imagine if I'm not available next time?"

"But you promised," Mihawk said, much too quickly, as his lost and worried gaze rested on Shanks's.

"And I'll keep my promise," Shanks repeated before kissing the smooth, soft forehead again to soothe his friend, "but Ray is an adult, he can help you more than I can."

"I already told you, he would see it as weakness and hate me."

"You don't know that," the redhead argued softly, "and then you can't go on like this. Better to know than to live in constant uncertainty, right?"

For several long seconds, Mihawk remained silent as if weighing the pros and cons before nodding weakly, "not today."

Except luck wasn't on their side as someone knocked on the door before entering. It was Rayleigh, of course. The father, guilty of not having known that his son was at home, had decided to bring them two bowls of ice cream. The old man probably expected to see them lying in bed doing unholy things like last time, instead he found them in the middle of a cuddle session.

Furthermore, as much as Shanks had done his best to wipe away all traces of tears, Ray noticed right away that his son was in emotional distress. There was something about the slump of the swordsman's shoulders, the way he leaned against the redhead, and his golden eyes rimmed with red that gave him away. Especially since the bruise was still there.

Blue eyes normally as calm as the ocean at dawn filled with anger and darkened like water during a storm. He placed the two bowls on the bedside table before crossing the distance between them in two long strides. It wasn't long before Rayleigh was in front of them, his hand on Mihawk's unbruised cheek to force him to look at him and examine the extent of the injury.

"Who’s the son of a bitch who hit you?" Rayleigh asked with an anger he couldn't hide.

Mihawk opened his mouth to respond before hesitating and closing his mouth. So, knowing that the swordsman didn't want to cause a scene, Shanks' arm left her shoulders to grab her hand and he squeezed it gently. He still squeezed hard enough to attract the attention of the elder who looked at him with concern. Shanks smiled softly in comfort, as a promise that he would always be there no matter what happened.

"You no longer have a choice," he whispered, urging Mihawk to speak. When the eldest nodded, the redhead added: "Tell him everything."

Mihawk nodded again before recounting what happened that afternoon for a second time. He added more details like how the biker pushed him against a wall and insulted him, probably because the hand in his gave him the courage to tell the whole truth.

Obviously, Rayleigh's reaction was the polar opposite of Shanks'. His anger tripled in volume, becoming almost visible as he grabbed his phone and started looking through his contacts for a number, "he's fucking dead."

"Dad…," Mihawk began worriedly, his eyes wide with surprise at Rayleigh's reaction, but he was cut off by his father:

"No one touches my son and survives long enough to brag about it."

"He’s a biker, he probably has friends…"

"Well, Hinata should warn him that I have friends too. It's a good thing your dad is always up for a fight," Rayleigh added, looking towards Shanks.

Well, Rayleigh certainly had a point: Roger was always willing to fight for fun. So when a member of his family was threatened, even the son of his best friend, well... The biker would probably have to flee far away, preferably to a desert island.

"No, stop," Mihawk ordered, placing his hand on his father's phone and kissing it forcefully. "That’s not… that’s not the only thing I need to tell you."

Rayleigh calmed slightly hearing the doubt in his son's voice, "what's going on?"

Mihawk's grip on Shanks' hand tightened until it became painful, except that instead of complaining about his future broken hand, the redhead responded with even more force. He was there, he wasn't leaving, and he held Mihawk's hand until the older man was sure.

Finally, Mihawk brought his wrist to his mouth and used his teeth to pull up his jacket, enough so that the marks were visible. Mihawk still didn't speak as he held out his uncovered wrist to his father. Three months ago, Mihawk had started using a healing cream to soothe the worst of the cuts, especially the one where he had cut too deep because of Shanks. But they were still there, still agonizingly visible, as they stood out against the pale and otherwise perfect skin of his forearm.

Rayleigh's eyes widened in pure shock as he realized what was before his eyes: his son had been self-harming long enough to have over a dozen horizontal scars on his wrist. For the first time in his life, Shanks saw his mentor's hand tremble as he gently grabbed his son's wrist, "did you do this to yourself?" asked the old man, although deep down he already knew.

The cuts were much too straight and perfect for it to be someone else's work.

"I'm sorry," Mihawk replied as tears returned to his eyes and his body shook as much as his bottom lip.

It was the second time in a day, in a lifetime even, that Shanks had seen Mihawk cry and he hated the sight. He hated that Mihawk had been alone on the precipice for so long and was only now receiving the help he so desperately needed. Above all, Shanks swore to himself that this would be the last time Mihawk would cry in his life.

Instead of getting angry like Mihawk had feared, Rayleigh used his grip on his wrist to hug him. Shanks was too far away to hear what the old man was muttering, but he could see the effect the words had on his friend. Mihawk cried even harder than before, holding on for dear life to his father and apologizing profusely. Nevertheless, his hand remained firmly anchored in Shanks's.

The ice cream was a vanilla puddle when Mihawk stopped crying, but that was the least of their problem. Shanks decided to take the bowls back to the kitchen while he left Rayleigh to take care of his son. Luckily, Shakky had brought Boa back to her room so she wouldn't hear her older brother's loud cries.

When he returned to the room, Mihawk had exchanged his sweatpants for his pajamas and Rayleigh was tucking him into bed. The swordsman would probably be ashamed of it if he was aware, but he wasn't. His golden eyes were half-closed from his exhaustion, except he continued to apologize, "I'm sorry."

"We'll talk about it later," Rayleigh promised, smiling softly before pushing her son's bangs away from his eyes.

Shanks wanted to say that he should leave since he felt uncomfortable with this excruciatingly domestic scene, but Mihawk's golden eyes looked up at that moment and he knew he couldn't. Mihawk was still too fragile to be abandoned now and Shanks refused to break his promise because he was embarrassed. Instead, he moved closer to the bed to climb next to the swordsman at the same time Rayleigh stood up.

The adult put his hand on the teenager's shoulder to stop him from moving forward, "thank you, Shanks. If you hadn't been there…"

"I'm here," the teenager promised with a serenity he shouldn't possess at his young age. "And I don’t plan on giving Hawky up."

"You're a good…," Rayleigh hesitated before sighing softly, "...whatever you are. Thank you, really."

Shanks gave his surrogate uncle a small wink before removing his sweater to be in his t-shirt and joining Mihawk in bed.

The lights had barely gone out and the door closed when Shanks felt a head on his chest and a body pressed against his.

He was sure it was his imagination when he heard a microscopic "stay" whisper against his chest.

However, prevention is better than cure and Shanks replied: "always."

***

Some would call him fearless, others unconscious, and her husband, so dear to her heart, would call him an idiot with suicidal tendencies. Maybe they were all right, Maybe none were wrong. Either way, Shanks knew he was relying too much on instinct. He was impulsive which made him fearless and as much unaware of danger as he was a risk-monger for those around him.

Yes, definitely an idiot.

Except that when the Red Force had suddenly stopped, its engine on fire in the hold, Shanks had run head first towards danger. He had ordered fire blankets to be handed to him as he braved the thick smoke to stop the outbreak of fire. And fortunately, they had reacted quickly enough to prevent the small flames from becoming a fire.

The engine frame was still molten and one of the plates had melted so Shanks grabbed some gloves and started working. The Red Force was his baby so it was up to him to find and fix the problem.

He found it two hours later in the form of a 14 key stuck at the bottom of the engine. Shanks gritted his teeth when his left hand got stuck inside, but he pulled gently and managed to free himself, his little treasure in his hand. He frowned when he saw the key because this carelessness was unlike any member of his crew.

Shanks was about to go back up to the main deck to show the crew his find when he turned to see Beck behind him.

"This little thing sabotages the whole system, it's going to take me two more hours to fix everything," Shanks complained, showing Beck the key.

Except that his best friend was not in the mood to laugh as he warned him: "the storm is coming sooner than expected, you will only have an hour."

Shanks lost his smile and pushed his hair out of his eyes, remembering the storm warning they had received before leaving. They had maintained the trip since storms were frequent at sea and had only modified the itinerary. However, because of the engine fault, the Red Force had relied on its auxiliary source and had not gone as fast as expected. They would be too close to the worst of the storm and Shanks would never have enough time to repair the engine. Well, he could if motivated enough, which he was, since he didn't want to abandon his ship. But he couldn't bet the lives of his companions on his abilities either.

Then Shanks nodded to show that he understood the seriousness of the situation and said: "Get into the escape channels with the crew and get out of reach of the brunt of the storm."

"You're not coming with us," Beck remarked, not surprised by this rash act. That didn't mean he approved of the idea, but he knew Shanks well enough to expect that kind of response from the younger man.

"No, a captain cannot leave his ship. I will repair the Red Force and come pick you up with the beacons."

"It's dangerous," Beck retorted, his eyebrows furrowed even more than usual.

Shanks leaned against one of the iron walls and smiled proudly as he said, "I trust the Red Force, it will protect me."

Except Shanks had just asked Beck to flee the ship with the rest of the crew, proof that the Red Force wasn't that strong. They both knew it.

"Don't make me order it," Shanks added when his friend remained silent.

Beck sighed before accepting the order, knowing he couldn't change his confident and stubborn captain's mind, "I'll leave the fifth lifeline for you."

A few minutes later, Shanks found himself alone in the Red Force with the only music of the devastating storm heading towards him.

The storm was much worse than Shanks had expected. That would even be an understatement as the secondary engine wobbled more and more. The stabilizers had been dead for about twenty minutes now and the Red Force was rocking in the waves just like Shanks. He had feared the worst when he heard a large boom above, fearing that a mast had broken, but he had no time to check. Repairing the engine remains its biggest priority.

Except that the storm was too violent and, ultimately, the Red Force was not strong enough.

Shanks realized it too late, some places between the furniture which came off the walls even though they had been bolted there and the Red Force which leaned too dangerously towards the angry ocean.

"Fuck it," he cursed before deciding that the Red Force wasn't worth a life, especially his own. He could always be rebuilt, his life wouldn't start again at the save point like in the movies.

It was when Shanks had just left the engine room that the tragedy occurred.

The Red Force suddenly leaned backwards and Shanks lost his balance. He fell and slid across the smooth floor until a wall caught him. He winced in pain and blinked dazedly.

It took the captain a second too long to notice the iron crates heading straight towards him, also carried by the momentum of the ship.

Shanks had no time to react or move as a crate crashed directly into his left arm.

He let out a howl of agony as his vision went white, his mind vanished, easily overcome by pain.

The muscles that were trapped underneath were crushed by the weight of the crate, the bone completely shattered.

Shanks came to his senses five minutes later with the storm still raging outside, he was now trapped, and his breathing was heavy and heavy. He should have left with his crew when he had time. He should never have found himself in this situation. Mihawk was right to call him an idiot.

Mihawk

Shanks gulped as there was no time to regret his past actions, nor to panic. He had to get out of here now. And return to his family.

So, without looking at the damage done to his arm, Shanks began to pull, and pull, and pull, on his left arm. The pain was searing, stealing a cry of pain from him. Yet, as sweat rolled down his forehead, Shanks stubbornly continued.

He had so much reason to continue fighting: Mihawk, Ace, Sabo, Luffy, Beck, Yasopp, Lucky, and all the rest of his crew...

So Shanks gritted his teeth and yanked until he was free. His freedom certainly had a price, that of his left arm. But his family was worth it. Plus, Shanks refused to leave without a fight.

The pain was still horrible, trying to dominate his mind, but Shanks took a step forward, stumbled, and caught himself. He leaned towards the right wall and continued to move forward with difficulty. At no point did Shanks look to his left side, to the hole in his arm, the shredded muscle and bone sticking out, or the pool of blood that followed him. Instead, he kept his gaze stubbornly fixed in front of him. Because he knew, he knew, that if he looked then it would be the end. Reality would hit him and he would vomit up what little he had in his stomach.

No, he had to keep moving forward for Mihawk, Ace, Sabo, Luffy and Beck...

Shanks barely noticed the ankle-deep water when he reached the top floor before true freedom. Only one more staircase, half the bridge to cross, and climb into the last escape channel. Yes, easy.

Damn, he was so fucked up.

The Red Force leaned back a little further, Shanks tripped and fell again, but he gritted his teeth and got up, holding on to the railing. Using her right hand was unnatural, but he forced her to cooperate.

For Mihawk, Ace, Sabo and Luffy…

The rain was torrential when Shanks managed to escape from the bowels of the ship. It was a good thing then that he was already wet from the water and his own blood. The captain was also freezing and what remained of his left arm throbbed violently. However, Shanks resolutely staggered towards the last lifeline, his only chance of escape, when a flash of lightning showed him the way. You see? The storm was trying to help him! That must have been a good sign! Proof that the sun would rise on him again!

Shanks could practically touch the ring with his finger when he finally understood why the Red Force had been leaning dangerously backwards for several minutes. A flash showed him the large crack that divided the main deck in two. And then there was a shrill sound and the crack deepened.

"Holy shit day!" Shanks cried out in pain as the crack became a hole, then a chasm, and an unspeakable ditch. The Red Force's deck split completely in two and Shanks found himself stuck on the slowly sinking one.

So, after another curse, he tried to jump towards the life raft but his right hand closed on the void and Shanks fell for the twentieth time today.

He gulped as his body slid across the deck and towards the raging ocean. Knowing that his encounter with the angry waves was inevitable, Shanks decided to jump so that the collision would be as peaceful as possible. He did just that and maybe his plan would have worked, if anything, at this point, from the pain and the rain, Shanks would be unable to tell what, smashed into his face.

His mind went white again as gravity took its toll and his body crashed against the raging ocean.

Shanks blinked, but he couldn't see anything as he was surrounded by utter darkness. His body was tossed from right to left like a common rag doll, until even he lost all sense of direction, and there was no more up, no more down, no right or left. And even if he had known how to find his way, Shanks would have been unable to swim to the surface.

Still, Shanks tried to hold his breath for Mihawk, Ace, Sabo and…. and… and…

It was funny, the darkness was fighting with a purple cloud under his tired gaze.

He would continue to fight for Mihawk and Ace.

And then Shanks was unable to hold his breath any longer and opened his mouth.

The treacherous water entered through everything: his nostrils, his ears, his eyes, his mouth and, most dangerous of all, his lungs.

He closed his eyes and his last coherent thought was of Mihawk.

***

While his whole life was a mess since his parents died in between his studies which he had practically abandoned at this point, he was a lousy brother, having not spoken to Buggs in two months, a friend terrible and an even lousier boyfriend, Shanks had decided to hide under his favorite blanket. It was red, soft, comfortable, and a gift from her mother before she left for college. Above all, the blanket was large enough that he could roll up in it and hide from the whole world. Shanks didn't know how long he had been there, long enough that the tears had stopped falling.

"Can you tell me again why you’re hiding?" asked Yasopp who knew very well why since he was there when Beck tried to comfort Shanks. Well, that had been a failure since Beck had to go to work. Good, Shanks didn't deserve to be comforted.

Nevertheless, like a believer flagellating himself to atone for his sins, Shanks repeated in a hoarse and trembling voice: "My exams start tomorrow... but I'm going to fail because I never went to class... and I had to start again a year and….and Mihawk is going to leave me because I'm a big loser and he's going to be sick of me."

Shanks waited several seconds, almost a minute, for a response that came in the form of a sarcastic remark rather than words of encouragement: "well, that's certainly a pathetic sight."

Shanks blinked in surprise from under the blanket, but he couldn't see anything, so he popped his head out of his shell like a turtle and looked straight at... Mihawk. Her boyfriend was standing a few feet from the coffee table, right next to Yasopp. Mihawk had his arms crossed over his chest which Shanks knew was a bad sign, especially if accompanied by a frown.

"What are you doing here?" he asked hesitantly, looking from Mihawk to Yasopp, this dirty traitor...

"Your friends told me that you had become a 'Sad Burito' so I came to see what that meant. I have to say, you fit the description quite well."

Shanks pouted before hiding under his blanket again, only his hair sticking out, "you can leave if you came to make fun… Just do it quickly."

Following his plea, a door closed and someone came and sat next to him on the small free space on the sofa. Shanks thought at first it was Yasopp, but the hand that began to play with his hair was too thin and callous to be his friend's. Plus, Yasopp wasn't wearing fancy, fancy cologne.

"I'm not here to make fun," Mihawk replied softly, continuing to play with the strands of hair that mixed with the color of the blanket, "you worry me. I thought you were doing better with Christmas approaching ."

Shanks nodded under the blanket, "me too… But then I got the notification that the midterms were coming up and…," he hesitated before admitting, "I so wanted to make them proud. You too."

"You make me proud every time you leave this apartment to continue living your life. Knowing Roger and Rouge, they're proud of you too. You know they wouldn't care if you failed this semester. Roger would tell you to dry your tears and resume the fight. The most important thing is that you don't give up."

"And you?" Shanks asked without making eye contact with Mihawk, "what would you say?"

He heard the older sigh before he admitted, "I'm not going to leave you because you're sad, Shanks. I'll leave you if you don't make an effort to succeed. I understand that you've been depressed for the death of your parents and that will never be a reason to break up. But I can't stay with a coward and a weakling."

"Except it's already too late," Shanks complained as tears returned to his eyes, "I had to turn in papers until last week and I haven't been to any classes! I'm going to get humiliated if I Go to the midterms!"

"No, I can't let you say that. Roger and my father trained you for years, you know the answers, it's the scientific terms you don't know. That's why I got the worksheets revisions from a girl in your class."

"How?" Shanks asked, poking his head out from under his blanket to look at his boyfriend. Strangely, he felt a wave of hope warm his heart. After all, Mihawk always had the solution to any problem, even this one.

"Well," Mihawk began with pink cheeks, "I threatened her and she may have felt seduced. In any case, she was very eager to let me photocopy them."

Shanks' eyes narrowed unsure of how Mihawk had threatened one of his classmates whose first name they both did not know. Come to think of it, if Mihawk, older and incredibly handsome, threatened him to get study slips, Shanks would also fall for the charm. Mihawk was irresistible even when he wasn't doing it on purpose.

However, Shanks decided to ignore this problem for now -he planned to annoy Mihawk later-, "And what's your solution for the files?"

"Beckman wrote them and sent them for you on the deadlines," Mihawk replied without hesitation before adding with the closest thing to a comforting smile, "you still have every chance of completing your semester. You'll have to study every night this week, but you can do it with my help."

Shanks' eyes widened in surprise, "Are you going to help me?"

"You never abandoned me when I needed you, so why would I now?"

Shanks was sure he could come up with lots of different reasons why Mihawk should break up with him now rather than go to such lengths to help him. But he didn't want to be ungracious and preferred to seize the opportunity to make his parents proud. Above all, Shanks knew that it was dangerous to upset Mihawk when he was trying to do a good deed. So, he smiled softly and jumped out of his blanket, "when do we start?"

They started as soon as they were comfortably settled in Shanks' room; Mihawk sat in the desk chair and the younger sat cross-legged in his bed. The redhead's room became a bastion of study as Mihawk sorted the study cards in order of importance. There were a lot of them, the piles seemed thick and Shanks was sure his brain wouldn't be able to retain that much information in one evening. Except that Mihawk, who had noticed the uncertainty crossing his face, reassured him by specifying that he should remember only half. After all, Mihawk was no miracle worker.

But the eldest knew how to bait Shanks into giving his all when he took all of the redhead's favorite candies out of his bag. Thus motivated, Shanks did his best to repeat as much information as possible. They set up a procedure where Mihawk would first read a sheet once, then hand it to Shanks to read alone, and then the master's student would ask him questions.

The redhead could certainly agree that Mihawk was right about one thing: nothing Shanks read here was foreign to him, he knew the answers, but in the context of university, he just had to remember the complicated words. As the hours passed, Shanks managed to regain his confidence and what was impossible became doable.

They continued like this until the pile of candy was reduced to half, Shanks felt like his brain was going to explode from too much information, and his eyes were starting to close. Mihawk was no better as the dark circles under his eyes grew bigger by the minute. The former swordsman looked at his watch and sighed when he noticed it was after two in the morning. So, he decided that would be enough for today, Shanks had to rest for his midterm which would start at nine in the morning.

The couple settled into the bed which had been cleared of revision sheets and empty candy bags. Shanks was the little spoon while Mihawk held him in his strong arms. At first, the youngest was sure he wouldn't be able to sleep as anxiety rose again. Except that was when Mihawk started whispering comforting words in his ear and Shanks fell asleep, feeling more protected and loved than ever.

Ultimately, his first match could have been much worse, but Shanks considered that he had managed to limit the damage. Which was good, since the redhead doing his best was exactly the goal Mihawk was looking for. The exam grades would be made up for by the papers Beck had written and Shanks completely trusted his best friend. Although he would have liked to know that Beck had been working behind his back…

The rest of the week was extremely boring and exhausting for Shanks. He was just finishing a test to go home where he would eat his snack while waiting for Mihawk to finish his own test. Then they would study for the next exam in the same way as the first until some ungodly hour in the morning. They would fall asleep and wake up together. Afterwards, Shanks would go to college, freak out when he found out about the subject before calming down and answering every single question. Finally, he would come home. This whole scheme was mentally exhausting, but Shanks didn't complain once knowing that Mihawk was trying too.

So at the end of the week, to thank his amazing boyfriend, Shanks took him to his favorite restaurant. It was fancy and the names of the dishes were written in French, but Mihawk certainly deserved it. He showed his gratitude in another way once he returned to his apartment.

Almost two months later, Shanks received his semester results. The first thing he did was buy some confetti from the nearest store and the second was knock on a rather familiar door. He slipped under Crocodile's arm before rushing down the hallway to Mihawk's room. Except he passed his boyfriend in the middle of the living room, wearing only sweatpants on his hips as he rubbed his hair with a towel. Shanks barely stopped at the exquisite sight to sneak up behind Mihawk and place his hands over his eyes.

"Guess who knows?" he asked excitedly.

He felt Mihawk's eyes roll behind his hands, but the older one went along with it, more or less: "an idiot."

"Nope, last try."

"Hmh, my idiot?" Mihawk tried again as his back pressed against Shanks' chest.

"That will do," Shanks decided even though that wasn't the answer he was looking for. He helped Mihawk turn so he was facing forward and he wasted no time before kissing his boyfriend like only he could.

He was smiling into the kiss, which didn't really help, but he couldn't help it. Fortunately, Mihawk didn't seem bothered, although quite confused by the turn of events.

"What have I done to deserve such an honor?"

"You are my savior!" Shanks explained happily before grabbing his phone from his pocket to show Mihawk his results, "I passed the semester at 11.5/20. That's not bad, right?"

He waited patiently as Mihawk read each of the boxes before looking at him and admitting, "That's better than I expected. Congratulations."

Shanks smiled proudly and leaned in for another kiss which he won easily before remembering: "And you? Did you get your grades?"

"I did, 15/20," Mihawk replied soberly without trying to show his own results. Which was not strange in itself because, despite his many medals, the eldest was not the boastful type. He took no pleasure in proving to others that he was the best.

Still, even though it was a very good average for a first year master's degree, Shanks frowned because Mihawk always had grades above 16. And then, there was something else that was bothering him, "you don't Didn't you say that you had to have the best possible file for your future applications?"

"I never said that."

"But…," Shanks began because he was certain that Mihawk had told him that, except that he was cut off by the elder himself who kissed him to silence him.

"Don't worry," Mihawk added, proof that he had lied and that his 15 was going to lower his otherwise perfect record. But Shanks knew too well what was the cause of this academic decline: him. Because he hadn't been able to manage on his own and Mihawk had had to help him day and night instead of studying for his own much more important assessments. Shanks felt the guilt rising within him, so much for his good mood... But Mihawk kissed him again before giving him back his phone.

Understanding the same, Shanks picked up the bag he had dropped to hug Mihawk.

The eldest easily guessed what was hidden in the bag, "I hope this isn't for me, otherwise you'll be cleaning the whole apartment."

"No, don't worry, they're for Beck," Shanks laughed before leaning in for one last kiss, "dress nicely, I'll pick you up in two hours to try a new restaurant that just opened ."

Shanks barely heard Mihawk reply that he was always well dressed him, but the youngest was already too far away to hear him. He had to bother his best friend after all.

***

What caused Shanks' mental pause was having entered without having to knock.

It wasn't his fault, not exactly. The house of the Silvers - Ray, Shakky, Mihawk and Boa - was like his second home, but in his real house, Shanks never bothered to knock on doors. So when Ray ordered him to tell Mihawk that the meal was soon to be served, Shanks entered the teenager's room without knocking. He hesitated at the entrance since the room was clearly empty before realizing that Mihawk must be in the bathroom. At least, that's what the light filtering from under the half-closed door told him.

Then, one time not to be forgotten, Shanks had walked in without any manners, as if he owned the room, only to suddenly stop. His hand was still on the handle, but he didn't open the door any wider. He was too shocked by the scene before him for that.

Mihawk was sitting against the opposite wall, dressed only in jogging pants without wearing a t-shirt to hide his defined muscles and pale complexion. A black towel was under him. He was holding a butterfly knife in his hand. And the swordsman hadn't heard Shanks enter as he was still lost in his own world, his golden eyes were strangely veiled.

Mihawk who pressed the sharp blade of the knife to his own wrist and pressed a little harder until the fragile skin gave way and a scarlet liquid began to flow.

Shanks swallowed before daring to show his presence: "Mi-Mihawk?"

Finally, MIhawk noticed Shanks' presence as his little bubble imploded. He flinched violently. His right hand continued to torment his left wrist with a straight cut. Except Mihawk had lost control of what he was doing as he drove the blade deeper into his flesh. The blood flowed even faster like a torrent.

Mihawk groaned in pain before dropping the knife which bounced once again on the ground. The blood-stained blade swiped on the clean tiles. Now it was time for Mihawk to stand up and stem the flow that was too fast. Except that his golden gaze fell on the too-deep cut at the last moment and captured the swordsman's full attention. Now, as he stared at his own mutilated wrist with morbid curiosity, Mihawk looked like a puppet whose strings had just been abruptly cut.

Terrified, Shanks ran into the room and grabbed a towel before pressing it against the oozing wound. Mihawk didn't even seem to notice that Shanks was now kneeling next to him, nor did the red head's warmth against his body shift from cold.

Shanks frowned as he tried to get the elder's attention, "Mihawk? Mihawk, what did you do?"

"I can't stop…. it feels good….," Mihawk's drawling, dreamy voice replied.

"Seas, Mihawk!" Shanks called softly as he continued to put pressure on the wound. He used his other hand to shake the swordsman's shoulder, which seemed to work.

Mihawk came out of his trance calmly as if his nap had just ended. He blinked, looked at Shanks then at his injured wrist and the blood covering it. Then he asked in his authoritative voice that was much more familiar to the redhead, "get me the first aid kit."

Still terrified, Shanks slowly stood up once reassured that Mihawk would maintain the pressure. He found the first aid kit easily since the swordsman was known to be a maniac and everything in his house was arranged in alphabetical order. Shanks' hand shook more than Mihawk's when he handed him the kit.

His terror was partly justified by the nightmarish scene he had witnessed and which Mihawk seemed so detached from. He acted like a professional accustomed to this type of situation. Probably because he was used to it. Mihawk easily grabbed some compresses to clean the wound which began to stop bleeding when a disinfectant spray was applied. Then, the swordsman took advantage of the wound being cleaned to press two compresses on it and began to wrap his wrist with a thick bandage.

"Help me tie the knot," Mihawk ordered, waking Shanks from his own stupor and handing him the two threads, "tie the knot as tight as you can."

Even though he was just following an order, Shanks still felt guilty when Mihawk winced in pain. Except that his guilt did not last very long when the young man gave him another order: to put away the first aid kit and to hide his sin. Shanks didn't like the tone Mihawk used to speak to him, he was not his slave!

Shanks was ready to make his point to the elder, hurt or not he owed him respect, except that nothing came out of his mouth. Mihawk stood up on trembling legs that made him look like a fawn at birth. The consequence of blood loss.

"What are you doing, idiot?" Shanks asked as he watched Mihawk wipe his own blood from his chest and begin to move forward. "You shouldn’t get up."

"I'm fine," Mihawk replied harshly. His tone would have been enough to deter even the toughest of men, but Shanks had known Mihawk long enough not to be afraid. Above all, the elder's words would have carried more weight if he had not tripped over his own feet.

Shanks rushed forward to catch Mihawk. Once the swordsman was safely against his chest, he gently rubbed his shoulder without realizing it. Due to the loss of blood, Mihawk didn't step back as he should have. Instead, he remained leaning against the redhead.

"Do you want to go to your bed?" Shanks asked gently because he was sure that Mihawk wouldn't make it alone because of the dizziness. He smiled when he received a small nod and tightened his grip on the swordsman's hip. Slowly, they began to walk towards the double bed that was wedged against the wall.

"Promise me you won't tell anyone…," Mihawk whispered when they were halfway there.

"But…," Shanks began, stuttering for an answer, "...we need to tell the adults. You might need to go to the hospital."

"Please, Shanks. It's my secret."

Shanks swallowed hard when he heard Mihawk beg. He had never heard the eldest, haughty, confident, and distant, ask anything of anyone. Generally, like in his competitions, Mihawk took what he wanted when he wanted it. There he had just begged Shanks and he didn't know how to react.

"Y-you… You can't ask me that… I can't keep quiet about this. What if you killed yourself when I knew and didn't do anything?" Shanks asked, starting to panic because he didn't know exactly why Mihawk was getting hurt. Certainly the eldest had admitted that he derived pleasure from it. But what if it was more serious? What if one day the cut became vertical? What if one day Mihawk committed suicide?

"It's not that," Mihawk reassured him before sitting up in bed, "it helps me decompress."

"There must be other ways," Shanks accused.
He expected Mihawk, so strong and stubborn, to retaliate with one of his sarcastic remarks. Instead, the older boy looked down at the bandage on his wrist and whispered, "You wouldn't understand."

No, Shanks didn't understand. He didn't understand how Mihawk had gotten this far when he had a happy family, was the best in the world, and went to a great university. Hell, the eldest even had an apartment in the capital. Honestly, Mihawk was everything Shanks would like to be. Strong, courageous, fearless, and intelligent. However, here Mihawk was cutting himself for a reason he didn't want to share.

"Can you pass me the water bottle that’s in my bag?" Mihawk asked after a moment.

Shanks easily found the sports bag near the wall where Yoru was also resting and he retrieved the water bottle stuck between perfectly folded sports clothes. It was transparent which allowed Shanks to see the dark brown contents. If it had been anyone else, he would have thought it was chocolate milk, except in Mihawk's case, it must have been a protein shake. Shanks frowned as he handed the canteen to its owners; Mihawk really had it all planned out, didn't he?

The towel, the first aid kit, the protein shake…

Exactly how long had Mihawk been cutting himself?

While the swordsman was drinking quietly, Shanks finally took the time to inspect Mihawk's room and he was extremely disappointed. He hadn't been inside the room for at least two years and, with Buggs, it was imagined a decoration with a Gothic feel. Shanks had expected a mini armory with swords hanging all over black painted walls. Dark paint was the only thing he and his brother had agreed on. For his part, Buggs had bet that Mihawk slept in a coffin, like vampires, and that there were blood bags in his fridge.

Except that the reality was quite different. The walls had been painted a nice taupe, which was neither too dark nor too light. There was only one sword hanging on the wall and it was Anduril, the sword from Lord of the Rings that Rayleigh had given to Mihawk for his fourteenth birthday. Aside from Aragorn's sword, the only sword present was Yoru, but it was not a decorative object. In fact, Mihawk's room was quite sad in its minimalism. Personal effects were scarce; here a watch, there a book. Except there were no picture frames, nothing to indicate that this room belonged to Mihawk. It could be anyone else's room.

The furniture was also chosen for its functionality: a wardrobe, a desk, a bedside table and a bed. The approximately eleven square meter room was actually quite empty, which made it quite large. In comparison, Shanks knew his room was two inches bigger and yet it felt smaller because it was cluttered and a mess.

Speaking of the bed, it wasn't shaped like a coffin so Buggy lost his bet. It was as ordinary as any bed. He was tall and his sheets were lilac. Otherwise, Shanks had nothing more to say about it. No, he was too busy looking at Mihawk to detail the headboard.

The swordsman sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed. His bare chest rose and fell weakly. Her skin was pale, even more so than usual, and perfect. A lock of black hair fell rebelliously on his forehead. His eyelids were half closed, a sign of his fatigue. And he held his water bottle between his legs as if it were his bottle. Beyond Mihawk's physique, what struck Shanks most was how he seemed... Alone.

Mihawk had always been a loner, long before he moved to East Blue. In his hazy memories, Shanks was certain that Mihawk had always been a little apart from him and Buggy. After all, he had always lived in the capital and they in the East Blue. Then, Hinata had left and Mihawk had suddenly arrived in East Blue. Shanks wondered why they never really became friends after that. Well, the age difference must have played a role. Four years was a long time for children. Mihawk was twelve years old, a middle school student who was becoming more and more independent while Shanks and Buggy were eight year olds who had always been noisy.

Except it wasn't just that. Shanks knew it deep down. After all, otherwise he wouldn't be feeling so guilty right now. Certainly, Mihawk had always been a quiet and solitary child who preferred the company of books to that of humans. But Shanks remembered a time when the three of them would play hide-and-seek and team up to play tricks on the adults. There had also been that day when the two twins had hired Mihawk to convince Rouge and Roger to buy them a dog; and he had succeeded!

So, they had been friends at one point. Except then Hinata had left and Mihawk had slowly withdrawn into himself. So slowly that no one noticed. The distance between them had gotten worse when Rayleigh started entering Mihawk in competitions outside of East Blue. Which forced Mihawk to go further and further, for longer and longer.

It had gotten worse when the eldest had returned to Shin Sekai for his studies. He was never the same after that: Mihawk came back even less often than before, only for the intermediate holidays, and spoke little about him. Shanks remembered bombarding Mihawk with questions during his first year of high school, but he had gradually become discouraged by the multiple shrugs he received and the terse 'I'm fine'. Eventually, Shanks had stopped asking questions.

However, they were still somewhat close when Mihawk was a high school student. They gave each other presents at Christmas and Mihawk went with the Golds on vacation since Ray always worked during the summer holidays.

Except then there were the Olympics and everything got worse. Shanks remembered the day Mihawk was selected. The whole family had been happy, there had even been a party, but the fever had quickly subsided when they realized that no one could accompany Mihawk. Ray and Shakky couldn't quit their jobs, Boa was too young, and the Golds had already planned their vacation. Nevertheless, they had all encouraged him from a distance by calling him frequently or sending him messages of support.

Now Shanks remembered the disappointment Mihawk had tried to hide and wondered why no one had made an effort to go with him. Maybe Mihawk wouldn't have withdrawn into his shell so much if they hadn't made him feel like a burden. After all, none of them knew the weight and pressure of the Olympics because Mihawk had never talked about it. And he never talked about it because… because they made him feel like they didn't care.

Shanks swallowed and looked back at Mihawk who seemed so alone and fragile now. For the first time, the redhead put himself in the swordsman's place. Mihawk who went to his competitions alone. Mihawk who lived in Shin Sekai far from his family. Mihawk, the world fencing champion, but who never talked about it. Mihawk who hadn't gone on vacation with the Golds for two years and who had been hiding his wrists under long-sleeved t-shirts for just as long. And for the first time, Shanks wondered to what extent Mihawk's solitude was a choice, for the boundary seemed fragile with imposition.

Shanks was pulled from his reverie not by Mihawk himself but by the sound of footsteps heading towards the bedroom. The footsteps were heavy enough to belong to a man; in Rayleigh, more precisely. Shanks' heart trembled with fear because Rayleigh could not see his son like this, so young, lost, and alone. Rayleigh was even less likely to see the bandage on Mihawk's wrist.

So, knowing they were running out of time, Shanks let his instincts guide his actions. He jumped onto the bed, placed the water bottle on the bedside table, and pushed Mihawk into the bed. The eldest was too beside himself to react and he lay down in his bed without noticing what was happening. Shanks gently grabbed the injured wrist to hide it between the pillows, careful not to aggravate the injury. Their bodies were pressed against each other, Shanks on top of Mihawk, and their gazes lost in each other's. And as the door began to open, Shanks leaned forward and kissed Mihawk who, surprising as it was, kissed back.

"Hey! What are you…," Rayleigh started before stopping when he saw his best friend's son and his own son kissing in the bed. However, the old man knew only too well what the logical outcome was and he swallowed hard. His brain froze upon discovering that his son was gay and in love with the little red haired shit. Yet instead of getting angry, he coughed slightly in embarrassment and stepped back, "...join us when you're done."

The door closed with a loud click and Shanks jumped out of bed as soon as the coast was clear. He didn't want to abuse Mihawk any more than he already had. Above all, he preferred to step back while he still could because the swordsman's lips were soft, warm, and captivating. A single kiss had been enough to take Shanks' breath away, and Mihawk's too.

Shanks stood still for a long time, expecting the elder to argue with him, but it never came. So, the redhead took his courage in both hands and asked the question that had been bothering him since the beginning of the kiss: "hey, Mihawk. Why didn't you have me…," his sentence died in his throat when he noticed the calm face of the swordsman, "...repulsed?"

Except that Mihawk had fallen asleep, a small smile on his lips and was not going to answer the question in the not too distant future. He had even turned onto his side to be more comfortable. Half of his face was buried deep in a pillow.

Silently, Shanks approached Mihawk and grabbed his right wrist to check something. Worry filled him as he noticed the number of cuts. There were sixteen in all. Each line was perfectly aligned, one below the other, and they were all the same size. Mihawk was certainly an expert when it came to knives as there wasn't the slightest sign of hesitation on his wrist. Most were in the scarring stage while some were still pink and others were still healing.

Shanks rested his arm on the bed and was about to leave the room when a strange wave of emotion assailed him. He couldn't let Mihawk be so vulnerable. So, Shanks went back and covered him with his quilt before kissing his forehead. Only then did he join the rest of their family in the kitchen. Shanks sat down next to his brother and hesitated for a long time before making eye contact with Ray. The old man was already looking at him, a smile on his lips and he raised an eyebrow.

"Mihawk fell asleep," Shanks admitted with his cheeks flushed. He felt like he was lying when Ray's smile deepened.

Fortunately, Roger quickly changed the subject and Rayleigh didn't have time to question him further. It was a good thing because then Shanks would have confessed everything because of the pressure. He was unable to lie to the old man.

During the meal, Buggy nudged him before asking: "Did you see the coffin?"

Except Shanks wasn't in the mood to laugh anymore, especially if it was at Mihawk's expense, and he didn't get involved in Buggy's little game. The redhead didn't want to hurt the swordsman further or make fun of him.

Above all, during the meal, Shanks realized that he had not kept the promise he had once made to Roger and that almost took away his appetite.

He would find a way to make it up to him, that was a promise.

***

A month after his father's death from cancer, Shanks began to slowly recover. He had finally moved into his shared apartment with his best friends at Shin Sekai. Shanks had delayed this moment as long as possible because of the guilt of leaving his mother alone with Ace. But he finally gave in when Rouge threatened him with her rolling pin. And Shanks had experienced this pain too many times not to take the threat seriously.

So he left for the capital where his friends and his boyfriend were waiting for him.

Shanks was determined to get his life back together and move on. So he had gone to college all that week even though he hadn't wanted to. Shanks had to admit that his friends had been right though: the lessons had helped take his mind off things, enough that his smile was real.

He was just talking with Beck and Lucky about the lecture he had just returned from. Shanks spoke excitedly and said more detail than necessary, but Beck had studied the same as him a few years ago and the older man had no trouble keeping up. Lucky, who was working to become a cook, had a harder time understanding what Shanks was talking about.

Luckily for Lucky, Shanks was cut off by the front door which suddenly opened. They looked at each other suspiciously since they were all home for once, but relaxed when they recognized Mihawk. Shanks' boyfriend was as dour as usual, maybe worse, since he didn't even respond to Shanks' bright smile.

"Can you leave us?" Mihawk asked soberly as a greeting.

Shanks frowned at this dramatic entrance which was surprising even to Mihawk who usually offered a cursory nod to his friends. Except that no smile appeared on Mihawk's face, it was even more illegible than a statue, enough to arouse Shanks' concern. So he signaled to his friends to leave them alone.

"What is happening?" he asked hesitantly before the heavy silence could kill him.

Mihawk moved close enough to place his hand on Shanks' shoulder and his expression became even more solemn as he warned, "You're going to have to be strong."

Shanks frowned, his worry reached a fever pitch, and he felt deep inside that something bad had happened. But what? He looked back at his boyfriend, but he looked fine, physically at least. Except if it wasn't Mihawk, then who? If it was Ray, Shakky or Boa who had problems then Mihawk would be devastated by now so it must have concerned his family, right? Not true?

"Ray called me a few minutes ago," Mihawk began in as neutral a voice as possible, either because he wouldn't be able to share the news otherwise, or because he knew he would have to be strong for Shanks, "Shakky was looking for Ace at daycare because Rouge never went to pick him up. She had a car accident on the way. A truck didn't stop at the red light..."

"...no," Shanks whispered, shaking his head wildly as his eyes filled with tears and his heart drained of life.

Mihawk tightened his grip on Shanks' shoulder as he continued, "The hospital called Rayleigh since he is Rouge's second contact number. The surgeons did what they could to save her, but her "The condition was too serious. They said she was going to die either way and they didn't want to make her suffer needlessly. So..." Mihawk finally broke down as his own golden eyes filled with tears, " They gave her morphine so that she would go away pain-free."

"Is this a joke?" Shanks asked desperately. A tear finally rolled down his cheek as he repeated, "This must be a joke. Mihawk, please... tell me... tell me it's a joke."

"The paramedics were barely able to get her body out of the wreckage because it was so broken. The operation would have killed her so the surgeons preferred that she leave quietly with a loved one near her. Rayleigh wanted to call you or Buggy, but you would never have gotten there in time. So, h-he sat at her bedside, held her hand, and promised to watch over you both. Ray said she smiled before. .. before I die. I'm sorry, Shanks."

Shanks shook his head as the shock finally hit him. A heavy weight had knocked down her mother, her last relative, and she had died without any warning. It wasn't possible, Red shouldn't have died. He still needed her, now more than ever. He couldn't... he couldn't... he couldn't lose both his parents. He couldn't live without them. It was impossible.

Above all, Shanks realized that his mother had died without him being able to say goodbye. It hadn't happened like that with his father where he had a few weeks to say goodbye and accompany him step by step. He had thought it was torture to see his father's health deteriorate so quickly day by day. But this? It was even worse.

A sob left his throat as his knees gave out, but Shanks didn't fall to the ground. Instead, Mihawk caught him and slowed their fall before cradling the younger boy against his chest.

Her heart was broken into a million pieces that may never be put back together, a torrent of tears flowed down her cheeks, enough to wet the shirt beneath her cheek, and her sobs were loud enough to shake her body. Because he didn't want to, he couldn't attend another funeral. It would be too hard for him between the ceremony at the church, the burial, and all the "all my condolences". He wouldn't survive it.

Shanks wanted to die when his life lost all meaning and he felt like he was alone in the world. His parents were his world, his models of courage and virtue, and he needed them, so much. So why... why were they abandoning them?

The young man of 18 felt like a holed boat lost in the middle of a storm. Although he rowed, he got further and further from the shore and the clouds darkened while the rain intensified. It was normal after all, he no longer had any bearings. However, as Shanks lost sight of the shore, a lighthouse lit his way.

He clung desperately to Mihawk, his last defense, hard enough to tear the shirt beneath his clenched fists. But Mihawk didn't mention it, nor did he tell him that everything would be fine, because the eldest refused to lie under any circumstances. Instead, he carried Shanks in his arms when his roommates -Beck, Yasopp and Lucky- appeared in the kitchen, alerted by the cries of their favorite redhead.

"What's wrong?" asked one of them.

"Everything," Shanks wanted to answer, but his tears intensified and he desperately clung to Mihawk who easily held him like a bride.

"Later," Mihawk replied disdainfully before leading them to the redhead's room.

There, he placed them in the bed, his arms around the redhead in a protective gesture. Shanks shrank in on himself and against Mihawk's chest to make himself as small as possible. He cried until he physically couldn't anymore, but he didn't fall asleep. He was more tired than ever, so much so that he felt like an empty shell, yet he couldn't sleep. Instead, he watched the rise and fall of Mihawk's chest, which barely reassured him. At least his boyfriend was with him, safe and alive.

Shanks decided to stay in this position until a hole was created beneath him and swallowed him up and spit him out into a world where suffering did not exist.

Or until the anvil disappears from his heart.

***

When Shanks returned from his first sea voyage as a responsible 20-year-old adult, Mihawk's cold anger was not what he expected as a welcoming committee. The platforms were empty when he returned. Well, that wasn't entirely true since the families of his crew members were there. Except Mihawk hadn't been there, which was to be expected since the eldest was quite modest and all that.

So, a little sad and disappointed, Shanks had decided to join his boyfriend, only to find him teasing Crocodile in the kitchen. Shanks knew very well what his boyfriend looked like when he was flirting. Here, Mihawk was sitting on the kitchen island, his legs half open and one of his hands resting casually on his ex-boyfriend's shoulder. The worst part was that Crocodile wasn't forbidding Mihawk from continuing, he was even egging him on as he leaned into the swordsman's space to retrieve his lighter.

Shanks easily got over his shock since he was finally home and just wanted to enjoy his boyfriend before returning to East Blue to see his little brother. So he excitedly says, "hey babe, I'm back."

For his efforts, Shanks only received a vague death glare from Crocodile before Mihawk jumped off the islet and asked, "Shall we go to the lovers' tower?"

Crocodile nodded before indicating to Mihawk to show him the way, which he did. The two friends left without sparing a single glance at Shanks who remained speechless at this strange situation.

Why hadn't Mihawk been happy to see him again?

Shanks frowned and was about to find out the end of the story when a roar of laughter echoed through the apartment. That laugh was familiar enough to make Shanks feel even more confused. Crocodile was responding to Mihawk's flirting while Doflamingo was there? What was this mess?

"Someone's not happy about getting their change," sneered the tall blond who was watching TV in the living room while eating cereal from the box.

Shanks usually didn't like being left alone with Dolfy, but the blonde could probably help him understand what had changed in three weeks. So, he walked over to the leather couch where Dolfy was sitting cross-legged and leaned on it. Since Doflamingo was watching cartoons, Shanks took the chance to ask, "What's the 'tower'?"

"It's the abandoned lightouse by the docks. Our old law school classmates used to go there to relax if you know what I mean," Dolfy sneered although his attention was still mainly on the drawings animated.

"And Mihawk…and Crocodile…are going to that place?" worried Shanks who was already looking towards the door, which made him laugh even more.

"Mihawk is, Crocodile is going to get some cereal at the grocery store, I don't have any anymore..."

Shanks felt a little better knowing that Crocodile and Mihawk weren't going to make out, but his boyfriend was still going to the 'tower', which probably wasn't a good sign, "so that's a set up... ?"

Dolfy shrugged, but didn't elaborate on his response so Shanks, still afraid of having upset his sharps expert boyfriend, continued: "And that doesn't bother you?"

"It's just a game…," Doflamingo raised his head to look at the redhead before adding, "besides, Mihawk knows better than to touch Crocy. You officially wouldn't have a boyfriend anymore otherwise."

Shanks blinked, unsure if he really understood what had happened here. Mihawk and Crocodile had purposely flirted with each other in front of Doflamingo, who was equally aware of what was happening. And all this for what? A Set-Up? Revenge? But why exactly? In three weeks, Shanks had forgotten what he could have done to upset Mihawk so much.

Fortunately, Doflamingo decided to put an end to his torment, "that's what you get for telling Mihawk to 'have fun' while you're gone."

Oh.

It was true that before his departure, Shanks had implicitly suggested to Mihawk that he no longer be totally exclusive. It was a way to clear customs if he had an interesting encounter on the seas. Shanks had thought he was doing the right thing since he didn't want to be accused of cheating on his partner. Also, it seemed logical to him that Mihawk would enjoy the same right.

It was Shanks' first trip and he wanted to make it memorable, after all the oceans were supposed to open new doors for him where he discovered lots of great people and different cultures.

Except that compared to what he had believed, Shanks had never given in to temptation. He had fun drinking and flirting, but always returned alone to his Captain's cabin on the Red Force. So much so that he had forgotten his proposal since he never had any use for it. After all, he had everything he needed here, with Mihawk.

Yet Shanks still didn't see what he had said wrong, "What should I have said?"

"Anyone who touched Mihawk would have been dead before the night was over," and as if doubting the redhead's mental capabilities, Dolfy simplified: "You're marking your territory, jerk."

"But Mihawk is not an animal and he likes taking orders even less!"

"Because he clearly likes being allowed to fool around with anyone else by his boyfriend," Dolfy scoffed, tossing the empty cereal box onto the table. "No one wants to hear that, not even birdie. So, a word of advice next time you go: make sure Mihawk knows exactly who it belongs to. That's what I do with Crocy and it works perfectly."

"Yuck," Shanks muttered as unpleasant images appeared in his mind.

"What are you still doing here anyway? I told you Croc wasn't going to go with Mihawk, not that Birdie wasn't going to do anything once he was alone."

Then, thus incited, Shanks ran back to the dock. The dilapidated lightouse that Doflamingo had described to him was visible enough from a distance that Shanks wouldn't get lost along the way. He already knew where the lightouse was, but it was always nice to have a reference point. Besides, this lightouse was the only rundown one Shanks knew. In fact, it looked more like a horror film setting rather than a welcoming gateway to the city. Shanks no longer knew the details, but knew that this lightouse had been closed several years ago and had been left abandoned ever since.

The steps creaked under his weight but that was probably because Shanks was taking them up two at a time in his haste. So he was out of breath when he opened the door to the hall at the top of the lighthouse.

"Mihawk!" he cried desperately, hoping to prevent the inevitable, except he felt stupid when he noticed his boyfriend was alone. Mihawk was installed against the railing and quietly looked at the horizon in front of him, the orange sun giving a pretty color to the sea, with a coffee in his hand. Strangely, Shanks had the impression that Mihawk was waiting for him, so he slowly moved forward until his elbow touched the lawyer's.

"You took your time," Mihawk remarked sarcastically without looking at him.

Shanks looked down in shame, "I'm sorry for that and for everything. I never should have! It was wrong, forgive me."

"That was certainly stupid of you," Mihawk confirmed without accepting the redhead's excuses.

They waited a long time in silence, watching the sun's downward path and its encounter with the ocean. Shanks didn't like this silence, unsure if he had done something irreparable and Mihawk was going to break up with him. Still, if that were the case, they wouldn't be here, right?

Finally, Mihawk turned to Shanks and spoke from his heart, "I don't want a relationship where my partner isn't as invested as me. I love you. I care about us. So, you can't go off and frolic elsewhere and hope that I do the same."

"...I remained faithful to you," Shanks replied sheepishly while his cheeks were as red as his hair.

"Good," Mihawk replied harshly without adding anything, as if the details were superfluous and he trusted Shanks.

There was another silence, but Shanks quickly broke it, as he couldn't let the opportunity go, "you know this is the first time you've said those three words to me?"

As expected, Mihawk's cheeks turned pink from his own embarrassment, but he didn't respond.

"So it only took a little trip for you to finally admit your feelings for me," Mihawk's cheeks blushed even harder and Shanks put his arm on his shoulders to bring him closer. He took advantage of their new proximity to whisper in the lawyer's ear, "I'm sorry for hurting your feelings, lovebird."

"Shut up," Mihawk muttered as he tried to escape, but Shanks was like an octopus tightening its grip on its prey.

Shanks laughed before resting his forehead on the elder's and they shared the same breath when he scolded: "No, I prefer it when you say you love me."

"Don't think too much about it, my mouth slipped, it was a mistake."

"Too bad," Shanks whispered against Mihawk's lips, "because I like you a lot."

Shanks expected Mihawk to respond 'me too' as he usually did so as not to reveal his feelings. Instead, the lawyer smiled softly before admitting, "I love you too."

At that moment, Shanks' smile was even more dazzling than the sun at its zenith. He was happy that Mihawk wasn't angry with him anymore. Especially since the eldest had finally said the three magic words after more than three years of relationship. Mihawk's prudishness had never bothered Shanks, who had long since accepted that they didn't show their love in the same way. Except Shanks never knew, until that moment, how much he wanted to hear those three words.

He leaned forward ready to do what he wanted since the day he left, but Mihawk stepped back as he said, "I don't care how long you're gone as long as you always come back to me."

"Promise," Shanks replied sincerely before leaning forward and kissing his boyfriend when he allowed him. Their lips met desperately because three weeks was certainly too long. They sighed in unison, relieved by this turn of events.

Shanks got more and more ambitious and gently pushed Mihawk against the railing, he had been holding back for three weeks and wanted to have some fun with his handsome boyfriend.

"What are you doing?" Mihawk asked disdainfully, pushing Shanks away.

"I’m marking my territory."

Interest flashed in Mihawk's eyes, but he still stepped back from the railing before intertwining his fingers with Shanks's, "this place is too dirty for that. I don't want to get AIDS. Besides, I've already booked a hotel room."

Shanks had to take back what he had said earlier: Mihawk knew very well how to welcome him home.

***

After discovering how far the darkness hidden in Mihawk's intelligent head was willing to take him, which the swordsman did once his bedroom door was closed, Shanks had unilaterally decided to help him. It was time for him to fulfill the promise he once made to his father to be Mihawk's friend. Better yet, he would be the friend Mihawk needed, whether it was a personal trainer or the worst prick at his side.

Shanks had started the next evening when he blackmailed Mihawk. It was a risky choice, one putting his life in danger. But Shanks' audacity had paid off, Mihawk had joined him in his garden and had not automatically killed him for threatening to divulge the information if he did not come. Instead, Shanks threw a stick at Mihawk and they began a duel. Granted, he didn't fully know the swordsman, but he knew how the Silvers worked. However, before he could help Mihawk, Shanks had to prove himself and prove to the older man that he needed help. It was a crucial step and Shanks knew it.

However, despite the difference in level, it was Shanks who had triumphed over the best swordsman in the world in a fencing match. It had to be said that Mihawk had played according to the standards he knew by heart while Shanks had cheated and used dirty tricks until the elder bit the dust and admitted defeat.

That night, they had clashed not until Mihawk admitted he needed help but until Rouge threatened them. Then the teenagers stopped. They lay down on the lawn, their chests heaving, and sweat covering their bodies. Yet Shanks was relaxed, lying on the cool green lawn with his arms behind his head.

"Next time I'll win," Mihawk muttered angrily although he made no sign to get up and go home. Instead, he had fallen asleep in the bed in the guest room.

They saw each other again the next day, and the day after that, and again, until it had been a week since Mihawk's secret had been discovered. Every day, Shanks discovered something new and interesting about his friend. At times, the redhead had the impression of discovering a whole new person whom he also had the impression of knowing by heart, which he did in a sense. Mihawk had always been there, so close and yet so distant, that Shanks was delighted to finally be able to know what was hidden behind his shell.

For example, that evening, the redhead made two discoveries: one about Mihawk and one about him, as surprising as that may sound.

Shanks had been invited to a party for the start of the holiday, so, obviously, he had invited - forced - Mihawk to come with him. He had felt the swordsman's tension as soon as the door had opened to reveal a high school friend of Shanks' already quite drunk. They entered and were immediately assailed by darkness softened by flashing lights, loud music, and the smell of cheap alcohol. Generally everything Shanks loved about parties. Except that instead, he didn't automatically enjoy himself, didn't go greet all his comrades, and when he grabbed a drink, he handed it to Mihawk first. Mihawk's body was so tense that Shanks feared a breeze would be enough to break it and he hoped the alcohol would help him relax.

So, throughout the evening, Shanks was careful to include Mihawk in every drinking game possible. He wanted his new friend to have fun and experience an adventure he had never experienced before. That was Shanks' goal for this whole summer: for Mihawk to experience lots of first times with him. And Mihawk had already tasted the aftertaste of defeat, now it was around illegal underage drinking.

Obviously, Mihawk had been raised by Rayleigh so his level of resistance to alcohol was quite high; Same for Shanks.

At first, everything went well. They drank quietly, ate half-burnt and cold pizza, and Shanks introduced Mihawk to his friends, including Yasopp and Lucky. He failed to drag Mihawk onto the dance floor, which was a defeat in itself, but Shanks didn't want to overdo the victories today. Mihawk seemed to be having a good time, at least he hadn't fled yet, and that was already more than enough for the redhead.

Except that at one point, they were separated while Shanks was still stuck in his game of Beer Pong while Mihawk was dragged by four girls towards the living room where another game was about to begin. Cheerleaders, obviously. Far from being jealous, Shanks encouraged Mihawk to follow them, thinking it would do him good to force him out of his comfort zone. And then, he knew the girls and knew that she would take good care of Mihawk and they had probably developed a crush on him. It was good. Very well even?

However, Shanks hadn't expected Noemie to come back to him with a distraught look marked on her face. She pulled his attention away from the game and shouted to speak over the music, "Emily wanted to play '7 Minutes in Heaven' to annoy us! I'm sorry, Shanks! She noticed we were protecting Hawky and she chose him to go into the closet with Joe."

Shanks' heart skipped a beat and he dropped the ping pong ball and it bounced on the ground several times, except he didn't bend down to pick it up. Emily and Joseph, two twins, were the worst bitches in high school. Was she the main cheerleader and him the quarterback enough? No, they didn't like anyone other than themselves because they looked exactly the same - which was pretty disgusting. However, they were also jealous, especially of Noemie and Shanks, both promised to be their replacements next year. In all cases, the two wolves had noticed Shanks' attachment to Mihawk and had decided to use this loophole.

Now, the redhead had warned his friend of this possibility and Mihawk is the best swordsman in the world. He can take care of himself, right? However, Shanks felt his worry gradually increasing.

Behind him, Yasopp and Lucky cracked their knuckles, a sign that they were ready for a fight since Beck wasn't there to dissuade them.

"Where's Mihawk?!"

"He left!" Noemie shouted before following Shanks out of the house and explaining the situation in more detail now that they no longer had to shout: "Hawky refused to play the game, but the Joes refused to listen to him. He grabs his wrist to force him forward and that's when..."

Right on cue, Joe came out of the house. He was tall, muscular, a year older than them, his long hair hung over his shoulders, and his white tank top was stained with blood. Blood still flowed between her fingers where she held her nose.

"Where is this idiot? I'm going to kill him!" Joe shouted angrily.

Shanks looked at him, unimpressed because he knew who would win between the two, and he asked innocently, "who?"

"The bitch you brought here. Who else? Tell me where he lives?!"

"Hmmh," Shanks mused, enough for Joe to move closer to him. Even his shadow seemed menacing. And he was more than a head taller than the redhead, who looked like a shrimp in comparison.

"He’s going to pay for breaking my nose!"

"Ah well, let me see!" Shanks demanded, feigning interest. Luckily, stupid Joe didn't notice and he took his hands off his nose to show Shanks. He tilted his head to the side before saying, "It's not broken..."

And then he punched Joe in the nose to finish the job Mihawk had started. The elder fell to the ground on impact, knocked out after two punches. Because, even though Shanks was smaller and thinner, he had been trained by Roger and Rayleigh.

"Now it’s broken," he added to Noemie because he was a little shit and the girl laughed.

This is what happened when someone threatened his friends in front of him, talking about this...

"Thanks, Noe. I'll go join Hawky now!"

"Say goodbye to him for us!" replied Noémie with a broad smile now that her worry had disappeared.

Shanks had already started running but he turned around to say goodbye to the friendly cheerleaders. In his rush to find Mihawk, Shanks almost ran past him without noticing him. He stopped abruptly before turning towards the lamp post where the eldest was casually leaning, the soft light making him look like nothing other than an angel. The faint glow softened his drawn features, his eyes were even more magnificent than usual, and even the leather jacket no longer accentuated his bad boy side. No, Mihawk looked like an angel who had fallen straight into the path of Shanks, who was ready to accept any punishment.

Yes, maybe it was Shanks who had the biggest crush on Mihawk in the end.

He would just have to hope that the feeling could hypothetically be mutual and the evening would be saved.

Mihawk's features were still drawn as he slowly rubbed his wrist, the one he had cut most recently. Shanks looked closer and, aided by the light coming above them, easily noticed the drops of blood beading on the swordsman's slender wrist.

"How's it going?" he asked worriedly, easily closing the gap between them. When Mihawk didn't respond, Shanks gently grabbed his wrist and only now did the swordsman notice that the redhead had materialized before his eyes. Mihawk made no surprise movement and left his wrist where it was.

"Some goon grabbed my wrist and reopened part of the wound."

"I know, I saw it, I hit him again," Shanks admitted without the slightest remorse as he pushed back the sleeve of the leather jacket. Sure enough, blood beaded from one corner of the wound. Nothing too serious, fortunately.

A small smirk appeared on Mihawk's face and he let Shanks clean the wound with his thumb. Otherwise, they remained silent as the light coming from the street lamp warmed them. It was actually quite nice to be in the eldest's presence without anyone else to watch over them. There was no awkwardness in their silence and Shanks didn't feel the itch to break it.

Yet Mihawk seemed so gentle and open now that Shanks felt himself being pushed with metaphorical wings. He brought the swordsman's wrist closer to his face where he began by kissing his pulse, which was beating quietly, then the corner of the wound before asking against the delicate skin: "why didn't you push me away last week ?"

Instead of explicitly answering the question that had been haunting Shanks' mind for the past week, Mihawk replied, "Why don't you find out for yourself?"

It took a few seconds for the redhead to understand that he had just received Mihawk's consent in a convoluted manner. Then, a smile appeared on his face. Shanks was still holding Mihawk's wrist when he leaned forward a little and his lips shyly touched the swordsman's soft pink ones. Contrary to what he expected, Mihawk did not push him away. He let their lips fit together like two pieces of the same puzzle and answered them as if he wanted to. Maybe because he wanted it too.

The two friends finally broke apart when Shanks' stomach growled fiercely and he used his grip on Mihawk's wrist to pull him away from the warm light, "I'm hungry! Let's go eat at Luigi's!"

"It’s already 11 p.m.…"

"Shh," Shanks replied before letting go of Mihawk's hand once an evil plan had appeared in his mind, "there's no time for Italian food, Hawky! Besides, Luigi makes some damn ice cream and even better tiramisu."

"Is there coffee in there?" Mihawk asked once Shanks had piqued his interest.

"Have anyone ever told you that you’re addicted to caffeine?" Shanks replied, laughing loudly. And then, still as a joke, he put his hands on Mihawk's strong shoulders and jumped on his back. Mihawk grimaced, but accepted the added weight easily, his hands automatically holding the back of Shanks' knees to steady him.

"Descend, sale gosse"

"No, I'm not. Running really isn't ideal after running so you have to carry me!"

"Tch, big baby," Mihawk muttered under his breath before starting to move forward and then, he stopped, "I don't know where..."

They easily arrived at Luigi's house thanks to the directions of Shanks who only jumped off the swordsman's back after ordering his ice cream. Fortunately, Luigi knew him well enough not to take offense. Mihawk, on the other hand... Well, his cheeks had taken on this adorable pink color that refused to go away even once he had received his tiramisu.

It was while they were eating vanilla gelato and tiramisu, their veins filled with alcohol, and their lips electrified by their kisses that Shanks made the promise to always be there for Mihawk only if the swordsman promised not to never cut yourself again.

They sealed their respective promises by sharing their desserts.

***

Shanks looked subtly from right to left to make sure the platform was empty. Well, as empty as the dock could ever be as the Red Force sets sail in less than ten minutes for its captain's final voyage. So there were people there, most of them his crew and a few members of their families who had come for a belated farewell. Shanks would be a hypocrite knowing that his own family had come to say one last goodbye.

The three boys had probably come to see the Red Force leave because it amused them since they had boarded the ship before Shanks could give them permission. Far from being hurt, the captain laughed about it. After all, the most important thing was that the trio was inside and could get into mischief away from their prying eyes.

So, Shanks checked one last time that the coast was clear before grabbing Mihawk's ass and squeezing gently. The older boy, who was already clinging to him since they had spent the last two minutes kissing, yelped in surprise and discomfort following their more private goodbye this morning. Shanks always woke up excited when he went to sea, there was nothing he could do about it! Moreover, morning sex was the best way to avoid being spotted by the infernal trio since Mihawk's body was flexible enough to accommodate it. Besides, her husband wasn't tired enough to make any noise yet and his skin was still dangerously hot and…

"You're insatiable," Mihawk complained although he let Shanks pull him closer. Unless he was trying to get away from evil hands? Either way, Mihawk wouldn't be able to escape since Shanks had a pretty good grip on his two precious orbs.

"Am I to blame? I'm going to miss you," Shanks replied with a small pout while his hands were still busy.

Mihawk raised an eyebrow, "you're the one leaving, not the other way around."

"This is my last trip," Shanks promised as he gently pecked his husband's lips. It was the agreement to avoid further arguments where Shanks would inevitably end up on the couch for the night. The first days of his return were always idyllic, but then, in his final days, Mihawk became strangely irritable. It took three trips and therefore three arguments before he admitted that he could no longer manage everything alone, even if it was only for a few days.

Mihawk no longer wanted to manage three almost teenagers, an overexcited dog, the house and his job alone because he felt like a single parent.

Shanks had felt guilty and sad that her husband, the most important person in her life, felt neglected because of his work. So, he had promised to delegate the part where he was going to sea to Beck or they would appoint a new captain, because even his desire to travel was not more important than Mihawk. He was going to be thirty soon, maybe it was time to put this part of his life behind him. That wouldn't mean he wouldn't sail, he could always buy a small vessel like a catamaran or a yacht, but it wouldn't be as far and as long as before. Except it would be a small luxury to pay, especially if he could teach the trio to sail like Roger and Rayleigh had taught him. Yes, with Mihawk grumbling behind them; it would be perfect.

"I like hearing you talk like that," Mihawk replied with a rare smile.

"Good, you're going to hear me talk a lot more soon. So much so that you'll be sick of me."

Mihawk rolled his eyes, but didn't respond, a sign that he wasn't as bothered as he might pretend. Instead, he rested against Shanks' chest, not trying to fight the hands that were playing with his ass. Mihawk wouldn't admit it but it was actually quite relaxing.

In the distance, he heard the children playing with the ship's horn, a sign that they would soon have to make way for Shanks. Except he was the captain and decided to fly one more minute.

"I'll be back soon," he whispered into Mihawk's ear before leaning in for yet another kiss, "wait for me, okay?"

"How many times should I tell you?I don't care how long you leave as long as you promise to always come back to me."

"Once again, I guess. I have a short memory..."

They kissed until they heard fake vomit sounds coming from above. Shanks looked up to see the infernal trio leaning over the rail and laughing at their PDA. Although he knew Mihawk would be eternally embarrassed, Shanks decided to get revenge by kissing his husband harder to prove his point. Then he turned to the three rats who had taken possession of his ship: "you had better get off before the captain of this ship puts you through the torture of the plank!"

Fortunately, Shanks had explained enough of what this torture was for the three boys to get off the ship laughing. They said goodbye as loudly as they could, especially Luffy who was far from happy to see his father leave for the second time this year. But Mihawk lent him a hand and Shanks managed to board the Red Force without being kidnapped by the three scoundrels.

As the Red Force sailed away from the port, Shanks looked one last time at the dock where his little family was gathered. He smiled and gave them a big wave, which the boys returned energetically. Shanks' heart was light knowing that this was his last journey before being a better husband and father to them.

***

"What's wrong with Mihawk?"

The question had come out of nowhere so Roger was helping eight year old Shanks into his pajamas after spending the day helping Rayleigh and her son settle into their new apartment. When his parents told him that his uncle and Mihawk were moving to East Blue, Shanks had been more than happy. He was ecstatic to have Ray near him because he adored him and the idea of having a new friend excited him even more. Now, it was the end of the day, and Shanks had not managed to make a new friend.

The 12 year old had been strangely lonely all day, he had pushed around fifteen boxes into the elevator before getting on one of them, pressing a button, and the doors closed on his scowl. Twelve floors up, Shanks, Buggy, Rouge, Roger, and Ray, who had all made an effort to carry boxes, had found Mihawk pushing the boxes back into the apartment. The adults all stopped to watch the child's ingenuity. Except that once finished, Mihawk had locked himself in his new room.

Rayleigh had once tried to get his son out, who was quietly reading among the boxes, to ask him to help carry the rest. Except, Mihawk had already prepared his money perfectly: "I carried double what Roger's sons will carry and the rest will be too heavy anyway. Would you rather I get hurt carrying the couch with you?"

Following this argument, Mihawk had received permission to stay in his room to read and Shanks had only glimpsed her during mealtime. Otherwise, all his attempts at friendship had easily fallen through.

Now Roger stopped looking for pajamas to look at his son and asked him solemnly, "How would you feel if Mom left tonight without saying goodbye?"

"Mom is going to leave tonight??" Shanks asked looking from right to left although Rouge was taking care of Buggy in the next room.

Roger laughed a little, "no, Rouge isn't leaving, none of us are. But imagine how you would feel if she did."

Shanks' small face tightened as he thought intently, "Sad!"

"Well, that's how Mihawk feels. He's sad that his mom is gone and he's lonely that he has to move. He doesn't know anyone here except you and Buggs. Promise me you'll try to be his friend."

Shanks didn't have to hesitate before promising, he would do whatever Father wanted anyway.

***

Shanks thought and concentrated until a migraine started pounding in his head. Eventually, he gave up and gave up when he couldn't find the answer. He knew all his lessons by heart, he had made sure of that before asking Mihawk to revise him for his final exam. It had become a bit of a tradition since the license where Mihawk, if he had the time, focused on helping Shanks. Except that it was infuriating to realize that he hadn't yet learned everything perfectly.

At the last moment, Shanks saw a mini smile appear on Mihawk's lips and he understood: "You're kidding me, right?"

"Maybe," Mihawk replied as his smile widened and he placed the index card in Ace's lap to retrieve another one.

There wasn't a cuter sight than the one where Mihawk was sitting cross-legged in his bed, the little boy sitting between his legs. Mihawk said something to Ace while pointing to something on the index card and the boy chuckled.

Shanks' heart vibrated with joy as he watched the two most important people in his life gathered in one place, having fun together.

A long time ago, Roger had explained to him that he had chosen to stop sailing after finding his lighthouse in Red. Shanks had been too young then to understand. After a something couldn't be a someone. Red was his mother, a human, and a lighthouse was just a construct.

Yet, here and now, happy and barely stressed for his upcoming exam, the twenty-year-old Shanks understood only too well what his father meant. Because Mihawk was his beacon. The person who had held him in her firm hands at the worst time of his life and who had never given up on him even if it would have been easier.

He had understood for a long time the importance that Mihawk had in his life: when he had held his hand when Roger died and even during the funeral; then he had repeated the process at Rouge's funeral. Shanks honestly didn't know how he would have survived without Mihawk by his side, even Beck and his friends wouldn't have been enough to pull him out of his depression.

However, Shanks had tried to fight against the bond between him and Mihawk during his first journey. Except he had been incapable of cheating on his partner. Although he had had multiple opportunities, Shanks had declined each offer, thinking of his boyfriend waiting for him at home, like a lighthouse waiting for the return of the fishermen. He hadn't wanted to be the source of Mihawk's pain, hadn't wanted to break his promise and have the lawyer hurt because of him.

Even now, two years later, Mihawk was willing to take care of Ace as if he were his own little brother rather than advising Shanks to leave him in the care of his weird uncle.

Shanks smiled softly when he realized he looked like family.

Nonetheless, he winced when a sudden pain appeared on his hand, "ouch!" he exclaimed, looking ahead where Mihawk now held a wooden ruler in his hands.

"You were lost in your head," Mihawk accused him harshly, brandishing the ruler like a weapon.

"Okay, excuse me! But let go of this ruler, it's a deadly weapon in your hands!"

Shanks' complaint made Mihawk laugh and handed the ruler to Ace, "hit Red as soon as he gives us a wrong answer."

"Aye!" laughed Ace before brandishing the ruler like a sword under the amazed gaze of Shanks and the confident gaze of Mihawk.

Despite the pain that promised to come, Shanks decided that one day he would marry Mihawk and the three of them would become a family.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12. Husbands reunited.

Their lips met in a passionate kiss that tasted of their love and tears. At first, timidly like a forbidden caress and then, more ferociously because of their despair.

Their kiss was strong enough to break the padlock that kept Shanks' memories imprisoned until then.

He remembered everything from his first and last name to his age, his job, and the smallest details about himself.

He remembered his promise to Roger after Mihawk moved away and all their shared pasts after that. There had been the Olympics when Mihawk was eighteen, finding out he was cutting at twenty, the summer they spent exclusively together, and the climax when they kissed for the first time. once under a street lamp. Rayleigh's reaction in early September. The two years they had danced around each other until finally giving in and starting dating. The second bitter-tasting Olympic Games competition. And then, in a blur, the slow death of Roger, the more unexpected death of Rouge, and Mihawk who had held him through thick and thin.

He remembered being twenty years old and being enough of an idiot that Doflamingo of all people would give him advice. At least Mihawk had finally said the three little words to him that day.

They had gotten married the day after their anniversary to adopt Ace, which had been a successful strategy. They had restarted the adoption process twice for Sabo and Luffy. They had formed a little family of five, and then six with Chopper.

Shanks remembered all that and more. Every key moment that defined him as a person had finally returned to him. Thanks to Mihawk, who else? Only his super strong and courageous husband could have saved him.

Speaking of her incredible husband, Shanks was brought out of his reverie by a sob. His dazzling smile disappeared, replaced by worry when he heard another sob. His hand left Mihawk's hip to join his shoulder which was shaking slightly, "babe?"

Instead of responding verbally, Mihawk clung tighter to Shanks. The lawyers arms closed around his neck where his head was already hidden. And his long, muscular legs were clinging to the redhead's hips ever since Shanks had grabbed him and spun him in the air. Shanks' own legs began to shake from the exertion of running all day, but Mihawk refused to let go, holding on tighter even, and they fell to the ground.

Another day, Mihawk would have complained about the sand on his already wet clothes. At the moment, he was too busy crying to notice that they had fallen. If it was even possible, the ice-hearted lawyer, the one feared for his chronic lack of feeling and impassive expressions, cried harder.

It was the third time in fourteen years that Shanks had heard his husband cry and he still hated the sound just as much. Still, it didn't really bother him. Not if it meant that the tears were proof of his husband's relief at having him back. They were good tears, Shanks was sure.

"Shh," he comforted softly as his hand rose again to get lost in a mop of soft hair. "Shh, it’s okay, lovebird."

"S-Shanks…"

"It's okay, you found me," Shanks promised with his own relief piercing his voice, "you found me, I swear. I'm here. You have me. You have me, love ."

Mihawk pulled his face back from its hiding place. He was still incredibly handsome, even more so than the day Shanks left. His golden eyes that were only expressive to their family, his soft pink lips that always stretched into that little smirk, and his sharp cheekbones. There were the tears too, those that had flowed and those that were still stuck in the pretty eyes, but far from repelling Shanks, he found that they accentuated his husband's natural beauty.

Mihawk's firm hands began to touch him: his hair, his bearded cheeks, his forehead, his nose, even his lips. And Shanks couldn't help but laugh and smile to reassure his love, "It's really me."

"You can never be too careful," Mihawk replied as his hands moved down Shanks' neck, shoulders, and chest.

"Are you going to check somewhere else if it’s really me?"

Mihawk snorted at the absurdity of the question, "It's really you."

"It's me," Shanks replied without laughing because he refused to take advantage of his husband's rare vulnerability. "I'm your Shanks."

And if that wasn't enough, he used his grip on black hair to pull Mihawk closer and they kissed again in the warm late afternoon sun. They only stopped when a shadow fell over them and someone cleared their throat. Shanks tensed visibly, ready to fight if Ener came to trouble them. He kept a firm hand on Mihawk's shoulder before relaxing when he turned his head towards the most adorable menace ever.

Uta had come down the dune to join them after attending the meeting in the distance.

Shanks' jaw was starting to hurt as his smile grew even wider, "Uta! My memories are all back!"

"Seriously? This is awesome, Re-Shanks!" she replied, hopping on the sand, enough to attract Mihawk's attention.

The older man wiped the tear stains from his face in Shanks' shirt - quite predictably, in fact - before turning to the younger woman and looking at her. Shanks wondered what Mihawk saw in her. A country girl? Probably. Uta did her best to always look as presentable as possible. Her two-tone hair was as always styled in her two perfectly done ponytails. Except that her dress was a little wrinkled from their run and dirty from their expedition in the woods. Otherwise, in Shanks' eyes, Uta was still cute.

What if Mihawk didn't like her?

Except that Shanks had no need to fear since his husband asked "who is that?" in a simple reminder to make introductions.

"Love of my life, I present to you Uta, the girl who saved my life and future singer," he added with a knowing wink at Uta. "Princess, this is Mihawk Silvers-Gold, my incredible husband."

Uta stared at Mihawk for two seconds before saying, "You could have done better. No offense, Shanks."

Uh? It took Shanks a few seconds to understand and feel insulted. He pouted to show he was a little offended and received a laugh from Uta and Mihawk. Well, at least they were starting to get along. Enough for Mihawk to hold out his hand to Uta and she looked at him unsure of what to do since it wasn't a tradition here.

"Shake his hand," Shanks advised with a chuckle, "It's a sign of respect. Mihawk doesn't shake everyone's hand."

The teenager was quick to shake the adult's hand if it was an honor.

"What an endearing sight," someone behind him remarked sarcastically ; Ener.

Shanks got up even faster than his anger, but Mihawk was even more lively than him, "you," he began, walking straight towards the mayor, "you assured me that you had looked for my husband."

If the lawyer was trembling it was out of anger this time. Ener must have realized it too since he stepped back slightly, "I didn't know that this... Red was your husband. I'm relieved to know that..."

"Liar!" Shanks barked, joining Mihawk to hold the front with him.

"It’s a terrible misunderstanding," Ener explained softly, only looking towards the lawyer. He was probably trying to win Mihawk's affections. As if he would ever have a chance with someone like Mihawk. The gap between the two men was so big it was laughable. The pigeons could not dream of flying with the majestic hawks, much less of touching them for…

"I'll make sure you hear him scream."

Shanks' hand clenched into a closed fist and he took a step forward to stand between his husband and the evil mayor, "don't think I've forgotten your threat from the day before, Ener. You'll be dead before you touch a hair of his head."

"What do you mean, Shanks?" Mihawk asked from behind him, his hand on his shoulder either to stop him or to keep physical contact between them.

"Mr. Mayor here likes to use the little electricity in this village to electrocute his lovers during the act," Shanks explained in a voice vibrating with anger that was just about to be unleashed. "I pissed him off yesterday and he promised me I'd hear his guest scream in pain. He always knew it was you, that we were married."

"It's true?" Mihawk asked Ener who backed away once again.

"No," the overconfident mayor denied, "it would never have been from pain that I would have made you scream but…"

Guessing what Ener was going to say, Shanks couldn't hold back his anger and hit him with all his force. The mayor's ass met the ground as he held his bloody nose, "you don't finish that sentence, asshole! And you don't move," the redhead added, threatening the bodyguard. He was smart enough to stay behind.

"I’ll have your head!" Ener shouted in pain through his broken nose, "you filthy savage... argh. No, stop!"

This time it was Mihawk who interrupted Ener, his foot placed on the mayor's groin and he pressed gently to make him scream.

"This looks pretty important for your little games," Mihawk remarked, pressing even harder. His voice dropped an octave as he began to actually threaten the mayor, "As I told you before, it's none of my business if you're a tyrant on this island. Yet, it turns out that my husband has lived there with this nice young lady for a year, and that interests me a little more. You better find yourself a very good lawyer because a trial awaits you if I discover that you played a role, however small and insignificant, in the disappearance of my husband. I would take your title, your money, and even everything you have and destroy your pathetic life as you almost destroyed our. Understood?"

Ener nodded once and, satisfied, Mihawk lost interest in him. His hand found its rightful place in Shanks's and he smiled softly when he asked, "do you have somewhere I can clean myself, love?"

Shanks nodded as his own wide smile matched Mihawk's. He always liked it when the lawyer became all protective of him and their family. He couldn't believe he could forget that feeling.

"If no one says it, I will: it was impressive! Can I write a song about you, Mr. Husband?" Uta asked as she hopped next to them while they walked to the house she and Shanks had been sharing for a year.

"Only if it's epic," Mihawk agreed much to the delight of Uta who ran the rest of the way to lock herself in her room and started writing a song.

They watched her walk away with amusement in their eyes, "she's like that a lot," Shanks explained as they took their time. There was no reason for them to hurry now that they were finally reunited. "A real little ray of sunshine hidden in a diva, but I love her a lot."

"She looks nice," Mihawk agreed before stopping to look at the beach, "this whole place looks nice."

Shanks nodded before his hand let go of Mihawk's to place itself on his hip, "it's much better now that you're here," he whispered into his husband's ear who shivered.

A small breath left Mihawk's mouth before he leaned into Shanks' space again. He pulled him into his arms, unable to resist the urge to touch to make sure his husband was really there. Shanks understood the feeling, he never wanted Mihawk to leave his sight again and he was the one who disappeared. He didn't even want to imagine what Mihawk must be feeling right now. Instead, he held him in his arm and enjoyed their peace now that no one would bother them.

"Finding you here after a year is a miracle. My prayers have finally been answered. I missed you so much," Mihawk admitted so quietly that Shanks almost didn't hear him.

Shanks swallowed hard. He hesitated whether to tell the truth or not because Mihawk sounded like he had been through hell this past year. However, Shanks wanted to make amends. He didn't want Mihawk to have any doubts. Because Shanks would have fought his way home if only he remembered that he had one.

Then he confessed: "I've had amnesia this whole last year. I couldn't miss you because I didn't remember you again this morning."

"Is it true?" Mihawk asked as his cold hands cupped the redhead's face to get a better view of the scars adorning his left eye.

Shanks feared his husband's reaction for a second. He had changed a lot in a year and didn't know if he was still the man Mihawk had married. It was jarring to go from not knowing who he was to knowing exactly who he was. Except Shanks had been someone in between. Should he forget everything he experienced as Red? Was his relationship with Uta no longer important now?

Then Mihawk kissed the top of the scar and the doubts vanished. They would find a solution like they always did : together.

"I knew there was a reason," Mihawk continued, his voice starting to shake again, but his fingers remained gentle on the Shanks's face. "They all said that you were dead and that I should move on. But I couldn't because a part of me still believed in you."

"I’m glad you did, babe."

Mihawk shook his head slightly, "I started to believe them… to believe that you were dead. Sabo and Ace believed that too. Only Luffy remained your staunch supporter. I'm sorry, Shanks."

"Hey, don't apologize for something you didn't know about," Shanks said, tightening his grip on Mihawk's hip. "We're together now, that's what matters most to me. Well, the boys are okay, right?"

"They are perfectly healthy, even more than that."

"So everything is perfect," Shanks rejoiced with a huge smile.

He chuckled before tracing a path down Mihawk's face with his lips: from his temple to his cheek, and his lips. Shanks couldn't wait to rediscover her husband's body in all its details. For now, he engraved this moment in his head, of them kissing desperately, holding each other as if one would magically disappear, and the sun warming their skin.

"I want to see all the photos you have," Shanks warned, pulling away from the kiss.

Mihawk rolled his eyes, but said, "Not until I take a shower."

"I guess that's fair," the redhead scoffed as he started walking again. His hand remained on Mihawk's hip as they walked towards the small house.

They had no choice but to separate once inside since Mihawk wanted to wash himself in the small shower available and Shanks couldn't wait for him inside like a creepy. So he left Mihawk after introducing him to the capricious shower. Not wanting to be left alone with his head right now, Shanks headed into Uta's room. As promised, the teenager was hunched over her songbook, but she stopped to celebrate with the redhead.

A silent victory dance was the minimum to celebrate the miraculous appearance of Shanks' husband and the unexpected return of his memories. Shanks and Uta had plenty of time to analyze the latest events of the day and, by the time the shower stopped running, they had agreed that a true love kiss was strong enough to break all curses. As Shanks left to go back to Mihawk, Uta promised she would go eat at Conis's to stay out of their hair.

"You don’t have to, you can stay here with us."

Uta smiled, but decided she rathered to leave them alone. Knowing her, Shanks preferred not to push and wished her a good evening. He was closing the door behind him when Uta added, "I'm glad you're still the same, Shanks."

"What do you mean?"

His question would never be answered since Uta was lost in her own world again. Shanks smiled before closing the door and joining his husband. The lawyer had found the master bedroom thanks to Shanks' directions and was now going through the drawers looking for suitable clothing. Mihawk grumbled something under his breath as he came across the third Hawaiian shirt in the closet and Shanks decided to sit on his bed to enjoy the show.

And what a sight it was! Mihawk only wore his boxers low on his hips. Which was a crime in itself, it was so scandalous. Mihawk's butt would look a lot better without boxers to spoil Shanks' view. He still enjoyed the sight of the two perfectly plump globes. To complete the photo, it was necessary to add the drops of water which flowed slowly on the pale skin and thick muscles.

Shanks pouted as Mihawk hid his strong shoulders, defined shoulder blades, and the arch of his back with a white shirt. He would have liked to enjoy the view a little longer, but he found no reason to complain when Mihawk finally turned to him. Those abs were even more defined and fishy than the last time Shanks had seen them and he regretted forgetting about them.

"Kill me if I forget you again," Shanks ordered as seriously as possible.

Mihawk sneered, "and I'm the more dramatic one of the two of us?"

"Obviously, only you have mastered the art of dramatic exits."

"Want me to refresh your memory?" Mihawk asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I'd rather you join me," Shanks replied, patting the empty space next to him, "you have some pictures to show me."

Mihawk didn't deny Shanks any longer, probably because he too felt this lack deep in his chest. This empty space should never have existed and they both wanted it gone, literally and figuratively. Mihawk made himself comfortable in the bed after retrieving his phone and the empty space was quickly filled when Shanks settled next to him.

They scrolled through a year of missed moments with Mihawk's photo album as support. Each video and photo got a comment from Shanks - 'they're so cute', 'oh, I love it!', or 'my babies have grown so much' - or an explanation from Mihawk. Shanks was grateful that the elder didn't skimp on details and explained everything to him in great detail.

Summer camp, back to school, Halloween, Christmas, New Year, birthdays, and all the little moments that deserved to be taken in photo or video.

They took a break two or three hours later when their stomachs cried out in hunger. Shanks fetched food and drinks from the kitchen cupboards. He was both excited to hear the rest of the trio's adventures, but was also grateful for this break. That was a lot of information in one late afternoon. Shanks had missed so many moments and he regretted it so much. The redhead drank a glass of water to calm his nerves when guilt threatened to suffocate him. Regrets were of no use. It wasn't his fault, he knew it. So now Shanks promised himself that he would make up for lost time with his boys once he got home.

He and Mihawk must have shared a single brain after nine years of marriage because they were on the same page again. Indeed, as he placed the filled tray between them before sitting down, Shanks noticed the site where Mihawk had gotten lost in his absence. It was the plane ticket reservation site. The lawyer was already planning their return home for the next afternoon, clear proof that he intended to reunite their family as quickly as possible by taking Shanks with him. However, the redhead also had a person without whom he could not leave.

"Can you book a ticket for Uta?" he asked hesitantly because he didn't know if Mihawk would agree or not. They were already the parents of three rambunctious boys and Shanks didn't want to impose his promise on the rest of his family. Mihawk would have every right to refuse since he had only known Uta for a few hours.

"Her family abandoned her here when she was little…," Shanks explained nervously when the golden eyes landed on him, "and Uta doesn't really like life here. She finds it boring. The island is too small for her and her talent. She's like a little flower that deserves to flourish in the city! Uta deserves to make her dream come true and…," Shanks hesitated before admitting, "...I made her a promise."

Mihawk's face showed no surprise and he simply asked, "She has a passport?"

"Yeah, it's around here somewhere."

"Okay," Mihawk agreed, adding a new plane ticket for a child. They filled out the necessary information together, which took quite a long time since Shanks actually had to find said passport so that Mihawk could take a photo of it. Once this was done, it was not over since the lawyer also needed a paper and a pencil.

Shanks watched as Mihawk swore on his honor that he was bringing two citizens to the East Blue before asking, "You don't need my passport? I believe he was on the ship?"

"I have a photo of it with your ID from how many times you lost them," Mihawk replied absently as he signed the paper. As Shichibukai his signature was like a magic pass that opened all doors. He placed it with Uta's passport on the bedside table so as not to lose them. They would need it tomorrow when the three of them leave.

"That's all?"

Mihawk hummed as he settled against the head of the bed, he drank a little but didn't add anything.

"Are you sure you don't mind Uta moving in with us?"

"The house is going to be crowded," Mihawk replied enigmatically, shrugging his shoulders.

Shanks narrowed his eyes in suspicion since he didn't understand. Certainly, their house had soon reached its limits, but they still had room to spare. In any case, enough to accommodate one more person. The trio will just have to learn to live with a female presence from now on.

However, he was too eager to find out the rest of Sabo's birthday to really dwell on this riddle. So, Shanks grabbed Mihawk's phone before forcing it into his husband's hands. Mihawk rolled his eyes at the sudden movement, muttering 'savage' under his breath, but he unlocked his phone anyway.

Shanks snuggled into the lawyer's chest while Mihawk quietly talked about the Science Congress. Mihawk continued speaking without mentioning the new position. He easily welcomed Shanks against him, his second arm cradling him even closer. Shanks sighed contently as his mind calmed now that they were touching again. He made himself comfortable, his head on the defined chest, as they looked at the rest of the photo album for the rest of the night.

Thus settled against his husband, Shanks ended up falling asleep. He didn't have the slightest memory of it, but the signs were there. The sun was high in the sky again and he felt perfectly rested after this perfect night. There was no better sleep than sleeping against the best pillow in the world. Mihawk's body was ideal for naps: he was cold where Shanks was a furnace, he always smelled good, and his arms promised security and love. Said arms were still around him, one on his hip and the other playing with his hair.

Shanks smiled against the pale skin as the free massage relaxed him even more. He looked up and his smile widened as he met Mihawk's golden eyes. The eldest was wide awake and already looking at him, his gaze filled with love.

"Hey," Shanks whispered, leaning forward to kiss his husband.

Mihawk accepted the kiss without complaining about the morning breath, "hey," he replied against Shanks' full lips.

The redhead's smile quickly disappeared when he finally noticed that the dark circles below Mhawk's eyes had deepened since yesterday. He even looked even more tired than the day before. Concerned, Shanks denounced: "You didn't sleep."

"I couldn't," Mihawk admitted honestly before grabbing Shanks' hand, "I was convinced it would just be a bad dream and that I would wake up alone in our bed."

Shanks couldn't help but smile when Mihawk kissed his knuckles. His husband was still as chivalrous as a year ago. He always found it cute how offbeat and vintage Mihawk's flirting could be. Mihawk was the type of gentleman to open the car door for you or kiss your hand, even if he wasn't exactly a romantic at heart. Shanks had always enjoyed receiving these little attentions, even if they didn't meet today's standards.

"I'm here," he promised again as his hand came free to cup the face he adored so much, "this isn't a dream. We're finally reunited."

"And nothing will ever separate us again," Mihawk echoed tenderly.

They stayed longer than necessary in bed enjoying each other's contact and presence. They kissed, touched, and smiled at each other like they had all the time in the world. Except they didn't really have it since Uta knocked on the door because she was hungry. The little knock sounded the death knell to their lazy morning. The couple got up and the day began.

The morning passed in a blur. Shanks told Uta that they were taking her with them and she squealed with joy before wolfing down her breakfast in two seconds to start packing. Once the suitcases were ready, more or less easily, they went one last time to the village to say goodbye to their friends who deserved a proper goodbye and Shanks promised Gordon to take care of Uta. Then, they headed to the small airport where the rusty seaplane from the post office was waiting for them, one of Ener's bodyguards was there too, but only to give Mihawk his belongings back.

They traveled for an hour on the plane between boxes and bags full of letters, pressed against each other. Shanks and Uta watched through the window as Skypeia shrank smaller and smaller until it became nothing more than a black dot on the horizon. They looked at each other and Shanks smiled to reassure the scared teenager. It worked since Uta smiled back before looking out the window again.

Their plane trip was not over, far from it. The two adults and the teenager stopped at a stopover for a few minutes before barely reaching their plane. Mihawk had reserved three seats for them in first class since he would not be traveling in anything other than luxury.

Once settled, Shanks looked out the window, but Skypeia was now too far away to even be in sight. Shanks wondered if he would miss the island and its inhabitants. After all, it was a chapter of his life that was closing. He was happy to come home and was excited to surprise his family with his miraculous return. But he couldn't help but think of Conis, Payaga, Gan Forr and Gordon. He hadn't wanted to leave so hastily, hadn't wanted to abandon them in Ener's hands, but they had promised that they would do just fine without him. Shanks let himself be easily persuaded because he wanted to go home so badly. Was it selfish?

Shanks pushed those doubts away from his thoughts when a weight fell on his shoulder. Surprised, he looked to his right to see that the previous night of insomnia had finally gotten the better of Mihawk now that all three of them were safe on the plane. The eldest had fallen asleep only a few minutes after the plane had taken off and he had instinctively fallen towards Shanks. The redhead smiled softly at the cute sight of his husband sleeping on his shoulder and he gently intertwined their fingers to reassure Mihawk in his sleep.

Yeah, coming home sounded like heaven.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13. Welcome home, love.

Thanks to his superpower of persuasion, Shanks convinced Mihawk to keep his miraculous return a secret. Shanks wanted nothing less than to see his boys again, it was a physical need at this point. His arm practically vibrated at the thought of holding them close and making sure they were okay. Sure, Mihawk had given him an update on the three boys, but there was nothing like seeing them for real again.

Except it was even more tempting to surprise them without any warning.

Shanks was reassured in his idea when Mihawk admitted that he wasn't supposed to be home for two more days. So, they could doubly surprise the trio since they wouldn't expect Mihawk to return early from his business trip, especially not with Shanks and Uta in his luggage.

The first person Shanks surprised by his grand return was Rayleigh since the old man had come to pick up his son at the airport. That was the thing, in his message, Mihawk had only asked his father for a ride home without specifying why or that he would be accompanied. And Ray, who was not a bothersome person had accepted without asking more.

Surprise wasn't a strong enough word to describe the look on Rayleigh's face when he recognized the person who accompanied Mihawk. Shanks didn't even have time to smile or greet his father-in-law as he was already crushed in a strong hug. He chuckled softly because that was exactly the reaction he had imagined before returning the hug with his one arm. He felt Rayleigh's shoulders shake as the old man cried for the first time since Roger's death. Unless it was a laugh? Shanks wasn't sure, but he wouldn't complain.

Rayleigh wore a wide smile despite the tears on his cheeks when he pulled back. He examined Shanks for a long time as if to check if he was okay or not. And then, once reassured about Shanks' health, the old man punched him in the arm.

"Don't ever scare me like that again, brat," Rayleigh accused in a passive-aggressive manner.

Shanks gently rubbed his shoulder, "I'll try."

The next person Shanks pranked was his best friend. Once again, Mihawk agreed to participate by sending a text message to Beck to lure him out of the house. It wasn't like the eldest to participate in Shanks' jokes so he must still be quite affected by his unexpected return. In any case, Shanks was grateful for the help. It was a good thing Beck was as accommodating as Rayleigh and didn't ask Mihawk for more information to comply with the request.

Beck came out of the house three minutes later and didn't ask any questions even when he saw that Mihawk didn't really need his help since Rayleigh and a strange young woman were out of the car. However, he was distracted by Mihawk, who explained why he had come home early.

For his part, Shanks waited nervously. His heart was beating wildly from his impatience. He knew it would be the best surprise ever and that Beck would love it. So Shanks was so eager to see his reaction that his leg was shaking. Why were they taking so long?

"I brought a gift that's a bit heavy to carry," Mihawk admitted as they approached the car's open trunk.

Shanks heard Beck make a small noise to show he would help. His heart pounded even harder in his chest and his leg shook frantically as he felt Mihawk and Beck just inches away from him. And then Beck came into view and Shanks relaxed. His best friend was as he remembered: tall, strong, his face closed and hard, a cigarette in his mouth, and his hair was increasingly gray.

The cigarette fell from Beck's mouth and he froze completely when he noticed the gift that Mihawk had brought back.

"Hey, Beck," Shanks said with a wide smile from where he sat against the trunk of the car.

"You little...," Beck began before stopping. Instead of scolding his best friend for his stupid joke, Beck closed the small space between them and hugged him tightly. Shanks felt like he was getting a hug from a hungry bear, but he honestly didn't care. He hugged Beck back as best he could and laughed when he felt himself lifted up, his feet no longer even touching the ground. That was quite a hug.

Finally, Beck managed to let go of Shanks and like Rayleigh before him, checked if he was okay. The new scars and missing arm might tip the scales towards no, but Shanks' bright smile more than made up for it.

"So where are my children?" Shanks asked excitedly because he was going to implode if he didn't see them soon.

"They are playing soccer in the backyard," Beck replied automatically before realizing how crazy the situation was. Beck felt like he had entered a space-time rift. Unless he had drunk too much? Yet Shanks gave him a suitcase which did not dematerialize under his fingers when he grabbed it. If the suitcase was real, then Shanks must be real too, but...: "How?"

"Long story short: I survived and my husband found me because he's amazing," Shanks replied as he collected Mihawk's suitcase, "come on let's hurry!"

"We can thank fate," Mihawk added softly as he closed the trunk for them.

Shanks was far from agreeing because for him it was Mihawk and no other higher entity, whether spiritual or not, who had saved him. Except he had three bigger priorities right now and he walked into the house.

"Home sweet home," Shanks murmured with relief as he entered the foyer that looked exactly like the day he left. The light tiled floor was shiny, the shoes were in a small wardrobe that Mihawk had insisted on buying, and there were no clothes lying around. The rest of the house was in the same state: familiar, neat, and cleaned.

He crossed the hallway, living room, and dining room to reach the kitchen without having to think about it. This house had been his home for years, an eternity would not have been enough to make him forget the plan he had spent nights studying to arrange the place as Mihawk wanted. Certainly, there were a few changes here and there, a sign that the house and its inhabitants had continued to live in his absence. A piece of furniture or two had been moved, a vase had been replaced, and the boys' toys were no longer the same but they were still the same photos on the mantelpiece, the same blanket on the sofa, and the same feeling of well-being invaded him.

Because Shanks was finally home.

In the kitchen, he met Makino who was cooking for the whole family with a pink-haired teenager. His best friend's girlfriend jumped when she saw him enter the kitchen and tears of relief ran down her cheeks. Shanks smiled at them, but decided to ignore them for now. He didn't want to appear ungracious or snobbish, but the shouts coming from the garden caught his attention.

Beck brought Chopper in first because the dog was going to derail the surprise by lunging at Shanks. Which the golden retriever did as soon as he arrived in the kitchen. Shanks laughed when he was attacked by the dog who barked and licked his face enough to wash it completely.

"Hey, Buddy," Shanks greeted happily, petting Chopper between his ears. The dog responded with an excited bark that made the human laugh, "yeah, I'm glad to see you too. Have you been a good boy in my absence? Yeah, you're the best."

Chopper left Shanks for Mihawk when the adult arrived in the kitchen with Uta and Rayleigh behind him. The dog was calmer with the lawyer and didn't jump on him like he had with Shanks, but he was just as excited. In congratulations, Chopper received a small pat from Mihawk.

Finally, Shanks went out into the garden with Chopper at his side - the dog had hesitated between his two masters before deciding to follow the redhead. The garden was at the heart of a fierce football match between the two traditional teams: Ace and Sabo on one side and Luffy and Zoro on the other. The children were running from one side of the garden to the other, shouting loudly in joy or frustration depending on who got the ball, and having fun without realizing that they were being watched by Shanks who was looking at them fondly.

For a few seconds, he looked at them without saying anything because he wanted to engrave this moment in his memory. Luffy was jumping around more than a bouncing ball while Zoro tried and failed to channel him, Sabo stopped mid-run to think about the best tactic to adopt, and Ace stayed near the goal to protect it. However, Ace was still a hothead and he did not hesitate to abandon the goal to join Sabo in attack. It was the wise decision to make since Sabo gave the ball to Ace when he was blocked by Zoro and Luffy who had not coordinated. Thus, Ace had free rein to score the goal which he celebrated loudly with Sabo. He even went so far as to taunt Luffy who stuck his tongue out at him in revenge.

The teams still resettled without noticing Shanks who had come down from the terrace to join them. They were too obsessed with their game for that, especially since Luffy and Zoro lost by four points against Sabo and Ace.

As a caring father, Shanks decided to stand with the losing team and, at the same time, made his presence known: "Hey, Luffy give me a pass!"

By instinct, Luffy, who had the ball, obeyed. He raised his foot to shoot the ball but turned to Shanks at the same time. He froze just like Rayleigh and Beck before him when he recognized the red hair, the tanned skin and the smile of his father who had disappeared a year ago. Because of his surprise, Luffy weakly shot the ball and the trajectory was completely wrong. So much so Shanks that had to reach out to catch the white and black ball to prevent it from hitting Mihawk's colorful flower bed.

"Don't tell me I taught you to aim like that," he scoffed.

Luffy stood frozen for a few more seconds before he shook himself out of his shock. A wide smile lit up his face despite the tears that were already streaming down his cheeks and he ran straight towards Shanks, shouting: "Dad! Dad! You're back!"

The air was knocked out of Shanks' lungs as Luffy lunged at him. Nevertheless, he easily received his son and held him against his chest with his one arm. Guilt hit him again when he felt Luffy shaking violently from his sobs. However, the boy clung to him fiercely with his little arms as if he didn't want to let go of his father and Shanks promised himself never to hurt his son like that again. Luffy was a happy kid who deserved all the happiness in the world and not to suffer for a year.

In fact, none of his boys deserved to experience this pain. Shanks looked up at Sabo and Ace who were still completely paralyzed, they didn't move a muscle even though their tear-filled gazes were fixed on him. They looked at him like a ghost coming to haunt them and Shanks hated that. Fortunately, Mihawk had warned him that the two older ones could react like this since they were convinced of his death. So, Shanks managed a small smile and he raised an eyebrow before saying, "let me guess: you're too cool for hugs now."

His mockery was exactly what was needed to break the spell and the boys ran at the same time to cling to their father. They started crying a few seconds later, making Shanks feel slightly overwhelmed. He could certainly handle one crying child, even two, but three inconsolable children? Yeah, it was getting a little too much, even for him. Shanks still tried to reassure them with his words and by touching them to prove to them that he was there, that it wasn't a joke.

In his unconscious rant, Shanks promised to never leave again and he was surprised how much he meant it. Even a year ago, the redhead would have been unable to completely turn his back on the ocean, even for his family, except today he was doing it without a proper goodbye. His life of adventure was officially behind him and Shanks didn't regret any of it.

In fact, he felt more alive than ever when Mihawk joined the family hug. He felt a firm chest press against his back, strong arms helping him hold the boys, and warm breath against his neck.

"Welcome home, love," Mihawk whispered in his ear before kissing his neck which made Shanks shiver.

The first to step back were Sabo and Ace who cleaned the traces of their tears with their t-shirts.

"We're glad to see you again, dad," Sabo whispered, still looking at him as if Shanks was just a dream.

"Yeah, we missed you," Ace added, looking down at his feet.

Shanks smiled at their shy behaviors, "I'm so happy too."

"You know, Dad, they were sure you wouldn’t come back!" Admitted Luffy who was incapable of keeping a secret for more than five minutes. His admission caused the two older boys to shout at him as they hadn't wanted Shanks to learn that they had lost confidence in him.

"We're sorry..." the two boys whispered in unison although Ace added an insult aimed at Luffy.

Luffy turned around to stick his tongue out at Ace for the second time in an hour, "I told you Shanks would come back! Right, dad?" Luffy asked looking at Mihawk with eyes full of hopes to get his second father's support.

Mihawk stood up, his hand still on Shanks' hip, and he nodded, "you did."

Luffy nodded eagerly, "I knew it! You're the strongest, Shanks! You too, dad," the boy added towards Mihawk, "you managed to bring Shanks back!"

"Of course, I'll be back," Shanks replied seriously, looking into his son's chocolate eyes, "I couldn't leave Dad alone with you three. You were going to give him gray hair."

"No, we were good," Ace replied with a little pout.

"Yes, very!" Sabo confirmed, nodding.

"You broke the microwave last night," Zoro said tauntingly who was now standing next to the two brothers.

"In retrospect, we limited the damage," countered Sabo, laughing nervously, "plus it was Luffy's fault. We told him not to put gum in the microwave."

"It went boom!" Luffy laughed loudly, waving his hands to imitate the explosion. Enough to almost fall, but Shanks held him tightly.

He raised an eyebrow but asked curiously "is that true?"

"Yeah! That was really fun! We should try again!"

Taken by Luffy's contagious excitement, Shanks almost confirmed but he was stopped by Mihawk who coughed gently to call him to order. Then Shanks forced his face to harden, "this is not behavior that deserves a reward."

"A reward?" The trio asked at the same time.

"Where is it?" Luffy added excitedly, completely ignoring the part where Shanks was scolding him.

"Probably inside," guessed Sabo who was already running towards the kitchen, Ace on his heels and Luffy jumping out of Shanks' arm to join them.

God, he had missed them.

"You should go before they traumatize Uta," Mihawk warned, being completely serious.

Shanks grimaced because Mihawk was certainly right. Nothing could ever prepare Uta to meet the infernal trio, not even the warnings from the redhead on the plane. So, he returned to the kitchen after kissing Mihawk on the cheek. There was no particular reason for the kiss, Shanks could so he did it and besides, his boldness always made his husband blush adorably.

"Gross," whispered Zoro who had stayed behind. Mihawk raised an eyebrow at the boy, giving him an unimpressed look, and motioned for him to lead the way.

The kitchen wasn't as chaotic as Shanks had thought, probably thanks to Makino who stopped the trio from attacking Uta. Ace, Sabo, and Luffy were close to the girl and each looked at her with their own curiosity and doubt. At least Luffy, the most extroverted and social of the three, had already started a conversation with her rather than staring at her like an alien.

Shanks placed himself behind the boys before making the long-awaited introductions: "Uta here are my sons: Ace, Sabo, and Luffy," he pointed to them each in turn before turning to the two other teenagers present in the house, "the green-haired boy is Zoro, Luffy's best friend. The teenager next to him is his big sister, uh...," Shanks hesitated which frustrated him a lot. He had her first name on the tip of his tongue, he was sure, but what was her name already?

"I'm...," the pink-haired young woman began to help him but Shanks signaled her not to say anything.

"Wait, I remember... I remember you're... you're...," he searched his memories for a name because he was sure that Luffy or Zoro had told him that. The child complained a lot about his big sister in the car and he called her by many nicknames, but also sometimes by her first name. Miraculously, a little light came on in his brain, "you're Perona, right?"

The teenager nodded with a small smile, "I am."

"Dahaha, you see I remember!" Shanks rejoiced, looking towards Uta who responded with a shy little smile.

"Who is she?" Ace asked with a raised eyebrow and his arms were crossed over his chest in an unfriendly gesture.

"I'm Uta," said Uta who didn't wait for Shanks to defend her before speaking, "and soon my songs will be super famous so you better show me some respect."

Instead of gaining the boys' respect, Uta received their laughter, which was a pretty good sign. If they were laughing it was because they found Uta amusing. However, Shanks still leaned down to ask them, "Uta is a nice girl who has helped me a lot so be nice to her, okay?"

The boys nodded and they didn't need any more help talking to Uta ; Zoro and Perona even joined them. Now that the introductions were made, Shanks turned to the adults in the room to join their conversation. Mihawk answered Beck's question which made Rayleigh laugh, but unfortunately Shanks heard neither the question nor the answer, only the mocking laughter of his father-in-law. Seeing Mihawk rolling his eyes, annoyed by Rayleigh making fun of him, Shanks decided to lend him a hand. He walked around the central island and placed his arm on Mihawk's shoulder without looking because his attention was attracted by the pots and pans. The food that Makino and Perona were making smelled divine even though it was just Bolognese pasta.

Except that Shanks hadn't eaten since they left Skypeia late in the morning and even though it was only 6 p.m. here, it was actually 11 p.m. for the redhead and Uta because of the time difference. Besides, it had been so long since Shanks had pasta that he swore he had forgotten how it tasted on his tongue. At that moment his stomach growled loudly forcing an shy laugh out of Shanks' throat.

"I'll prepare more food," Makino promised, drawing Shanks' attention to her and her cute baby bump.

Only now Shanks noticed the very obvious. His best friend's girlfriend was pregnant! Why hadn't he been informed before?

Eyes wide, Shanks moved away from Mihawk to join Makino, "you're pregnant! How? No... wait... wait... I know how, it's disgusting."

"As if you haven't done worse with your husband," Beck replied from where he stood behind Makino in a protective, loving stance.

Shanks shared a look with his best friend before responding like the snarky little shit he still was, "well, it wasn't my fault for trying, but Hawky doesn't have the right equipment."

In revenge, Shanks felt the sole of a shoe press against his buttocks. He didn't need to turn around to know that Mihawk's cheeks were red with shame. First, the lawyer did not like their lovemaking to be known to everyone and especially not in the presence of his father who did not seem at all bothered. So, Shanks preferred to hug Makino to congratulate her and he added in her ear: "he made you wait, but you finally succeeded, congrats."

"Thank you, Shanks," Makino responded warmly, hugging him back.

Shanks had barely stepped back before he asked: "Can I be the godfather? No, correction: I am the godfather, right? I had reserved my right."

Beck shared a look with Mihawk, both smiling at a joke that must have been private to them, and his best friend replied, "don't break your brain, of course, you're the godfather with Mihawk."

Tears welled up in Shanks' eyes because it was one thing to joke about being the godfather of Makino and Beck's hypothetical child, and another to be confirmed in this role. The child wasn't so hypothetical now and Shanks felt a wave of pride pass through him. Beck and Makino trusted them enough to entrust them with this responsibility and Shanks did not intend to disappoint his friends.

"I'm going to be the best godfather in the world," he promised near the Baby bump before turning to Mihawk and accusing without any bite, "do you have any other surprises in store or just these?"

Mihawk feigned innocence, "It depends on your definition of 'surprise', I suppose. Would you consider it a surprise that I became the legal guardian of two teenagers in your absence?"

"Hell, yeah!" Shanks replied in his best 'duh' voice, "Where are they?"

"Right here," Mihawk replied, pointing to Zoro and Perona who were blending in perfectly with the rest of the siblings, "surprise."

Shanks looked from Mihawk to Zoro and Perona, registering how the two teenagers were already perfectly integrated into the trio and the way his husband looked at them as if he considered them his. This news completely disconcerted Shanks. He hadn't expected this kind of news, especially not coming from Mihawk who hated when his daily life was turned upside down, let alone a noisy house.

Mihawk had always insisted on having a small family unlike Shanks who had always thought big. Yet, he had always expected Ace to be their only child. But then they'd agreed to help Garp by raising Luffy, mainly so Shanks' fines would be wiped off and he could keep his license, and they'd held him enough as a baby for the adoption to be just a formality. For his part, they had to adopt Sabo, small and unloved, who was the missing piece in their family.

But Zoro and Perona? Well, that was unexpected. They were already grown up, respectively 12/13 and 16/17 years old, and seemed quite independent since, as far as Shanks knew, their parents had died when they were little. However, Luffy had practically adopted Zoro two years ago for reasons that no one knew. They were best friends, the 'best in the world', and could always be seen together. Shanks had stopped counting the number of times Zoro had slept at their house after an afternoon of playing and eating with them. He didn't know much about Perona, but she seemed like a nice girl.

Once over the shock that yes, the house was definitely 'crowded' as Mihawk had said, Shanks decided that if his husband had agreed to Uta living with them, then he couldn't be angry now. Come to think of it, Mihawk had probably accepted Shanks' request knowing that he had adopted two children of his own. But Shanks decided to ignore this detail.

"You get a B- for your surprise, because I'm the master of surprises here," Shanks finally said with a smirk.

Mihawk rolled his eyes affectionately before gesturing for Perona and Uta to follow him upstairs. The three stayed there for as long as it took Makino to finish preparing the meal. Shanks decided not to participate in the conversation taking place above them, preferring to share a beer with Beck and Ray to celebrate his return home. He even prepared Mihawk a glass of wine for when he finished preparing everything and served Makino a glass of juice. Staying down allowed him to stay out of Mihawk's feet, knowing his husband's perfectionist brain, the eldest knew exactly what change needed to be made to accommodate the new change, and Shanks was also able to witness a lunar scene.

Ace, Sabo and Luffy clearly hadn't lied when they said they had been good to Mihawk in his absence. Because a year ago, Mihawk and Shanks should have joined forces to force the boys to wash themselves before eating. Except here, the infernal trio and Zoro left for five minutes before coming back all clean and dressed in their pajamas without Mihawk having to say anything to them. Worse ! They helped Makino of their own accord, setting the table in the dining room for her and assisting her in preparing the meal.

"Are you sure they weren't abducted by aliens?" Shanks asked quietly to the two other adults who laughed.

The meal was served when Uta and Perona joined them, laughing together, and Mihawk came down a few seconds later. He easily took his place next to Shanks, their shoulders brushing together like two inseparable magnets.

Shanks moaned loudly at his first bite which sent him straight to seventh heaven, "damn, I missed that!"

The rest of his family laughed because they didn't understand the feeling of being separated from pasta for a year. It wasn't just the spaghetti or the Bolognese sauce. No, it was much deeper than that. Bolognese pasta took him back to Sunday lunches where his Italian-blooded father insisted on making sauce with real tomatoes; they were his first late dates with Mihawk at Luigi's where he would dirty his white shirt, but his clumsiness was still not enough to put off the elder and scare him away; they were Pasta Boxes eaten in a hurry during his university years or while traveling to the other side of the world; and they were a family meal eaten in the dining room in the company of his children who got dirty even more easily than him, his best friends, and the rest of their families. In itself, spaghetti was the symbol of everything Shanks had missed in a year.

Was it stupid to cry over a fucking dish of pasta?

The hand that rubbed his back reassured him that no, it wasn't stupid, and Shanks continued eating in a generally good mood. The boys argued about their adventures, Uta admitted to never having eaten pasta before, Ray told embarrassing stories about Shanks and Mihawk to the delight of the younger ones, and Beck promised to warn the rest of their group of the good news. In itself, it had been a perfect evening, filled with laughter, nostalgia, and smiles that wouldn't disappear.

Mihawk got some ice cream from the freezer and Shanks refilled the empty glasses when no one made a sign to leave even though they had been at the table for three hours already.

The first to leave was Rayleigh who wanted to tell Shakky the good news. Then it was Beck and Makino's turn a few minutes later because the pregnant woman was quite tired. It was much more difficult to put the infernal trio to bed because they refused to go to sleep. They were afraid that it was just a sweet dream and that Shanks would disappear during the night just like Mihawk did the day before. It took many promises and reassurances before Sabo and Ace helped them convince Luffy, the most recalcitrant of the three.

Shanks was surprised when Ace went down to the cellar, but everyone seemed to think it was normal so he didn't mention it. He also didn't say anything when Luffy and Zoro entered the same room or Sabo in Ace's. In fact, Shanks only started to wonder when he entered his room. Or was it his room? Shanks stood frozen at the entrance to the room, noticing the boy band posters on the walls, the wardrobe full of pink dresses, and Uta's suitcase lying in the corner.

Uh?

"This way, Shanks," the freshly washed Mihawk called, opening the door to his office and leaving it open.

Well, that would make more sense, Shanks suspected as he closed the door to what was once his bedroom to join Mihawk in his office. Mihawk's den had been set up as a spare bedroom with the sofa bed unfolded and the double bed ready. The sheets looked oddly clean as if the bed had just been made and Shanks knew that was what had delayed Mihawk. His husband was the type of person to wash at 2 a.m. because he had took a plane earlier in the day so why wouldn't he have changed the sheets as soon as he got home? There was nothing new about Mihawk being a neat freak. At least his husband was still true to himself.

"I thought you didn’t like camping?" Shanks scoffed as he sat up in bed. He frowned as he felt the springs under his butt since the bed wasn't supposed to squeak if Mihawk had slept in it the entire time he gave room to Perona. In any case that was what the salesman had explained to them when they bought the sofa, the more you sleep in the bed the less it will squeak, and you had to unfold it once or twice a year to prevent it from getting stuck.

"It's a temporary solution. There's no way we're going to sleep in this thing," Mihawk replied, taking off his t-shirt and placing it on his desk chair.

Shanks looked towards the cabinets where Mihawk's costumes were hung on hangers and wondered how temporary this solution was supposed to be before his miraculous return. Mihawk leaving their room to Perona was normal, Shanks probably would have made the same choice if their places had been reversed, but sleeping on a couch in his office with clothes and files as his only company? There had to be a better way, Shanks was sure. Why hadn't Mihawk gathered Sabo and Ace in the same room to get one?

These questions were overshadowed by someone scratching at the door. Mihawk, who was about to join him in bed, sighed before returning to the door to open it and let Chopper in. The dog entered the room as he owned it, coming to lick Shanks' fingers before settling in his basket near the desk when Mihawk snapped his fingers.

What happened to 'no dogs in bedrooms'? Shanks wondered before his attention was drawn to something else again. Mihawk had finally settled under the covers, the bed creaking under his weight, and Shanks was more interested in his husband's inviting chest than in these worries about what had happened in his absence. Knowing his husband, Mihawk had managed it perfectly and if he found that this solution was the best, then so be it. Shanks would question him later.

Shanks lay against Mihawk's chest, his head on his shoulder, as soon as the light was turned off. The darkness gave him very unholy ideas. He was finally safe at home, had made sure that the children were okay and that they would welcome Uta as they were supposed to, and he still had a task to do. Shanks began by pressing a kiss to the pale skin nearby, which Mihawk allowed, and then his hand began to explore every crevices and valleys that made up his husband's chest. He felt the soft, hairless skin under his fingers and enjoyed pressing a finger on an abs to feel the hardness underneath. Mihawk was certainly a paradox in his own right, he was strong and tough but had a soft side that few people knew about.

Shanks' hand was trapped as he headed even lower, "we won't do anything as long as the kids are home to hear us," Mihawk warned without letting go of the hand he caught

Shanks sighed before collapsing onto his back, "there are eight of us," he finally realized with amazement, "well, nine with Chopper," he corrected himself as he heard the dog snore, "all in all case, that's six kids. We're outnumbered, love."

Mihawk's only response was a small hum and he squeezed the hand tighter in his.

Shanks should be tired, but he wasn't enough yet and he asked, "So Zoro and Perona? You said you were their legal guardian..." he left his voice hanging for Mihawk to complete the sentence.

"I couldn’t adopt them without you signing the papers."

"Well, I'm back now."

"It will be their choice, not mine," replied Mihawk, who knew that Shanks would not let the matter go without having a real answer. "I'll let them know the offer is on the table if you agree."

Shanks shrugged, "I'll have as many Gold-Silvers as possible."'

"Except that neither Perona or Zoro will necessarily be ready to change their last names and then, we will have to see how Luffy and Zoro's relationship evolves. They have a worrying proportion of cuddling and touching each other."

"They're just kids," Shanks scoffed, "plus I love hugging my best friend. Well, Beck doesn't like hugs much, but I hugged you all the time when we were best friends. "

Only a judgmental silence answered him and Shanks was grateful for the darkness that hid his blush. He is married to his best friend, the one he loved to touch and hold, which totally proved Mihawk's point. Besides, Luffy looked just like him, so why wouldn't his son want to touch the person he considered his own?

Shanks had always considered touching whether it was a hug, hand holding, or just touching any part of Mihawk as a passive way of marking territory. He may have been a little possessive, but, in his defense, Mihawk was so attractive that even a blind woman had fallen in love with his beauty - his eloquence for that matter - and that was neither a joke nor an exaggeration. So maybe Luffy was unconsciously imitating him? Plus, Shanks had always found it adorable how Zoro looked like a miniature, green-haired version of Mihawk, which was quite worrying now.

"You're not funny," Shanks added, pouting.

Mihawk exhaled a small laugh before asking in turn: "and Uta?"

"I'd like her to have our names instead of those of the bastards who abandoned her on an island. If she agrees. Oh and if you want, of course."

"I don't see any harm in that, two female presences under this roof could do us all some good."

Shanks smiled in the dark upon hearing Mihawk's confirmation that he was also ready to face the adoption papers for the fourth time, or even five or six times if necessary. Knowing that the two important points had been covered, Shanks turned onto his back to sleep. They had to get as much sleep as they could before the trio jumped in their bed early the next morning to check that Shanks was still there.

However, he still turned his head towards his husband and called softly: "Hawky...," he waited for the lawyer to respond because he would feel stupid otherwise if he continued to speak into the void. But Mihawk wasn't asleep yet as he hummed tiredly a few seconds later. Shanks had woken him up from his drowsiness, too bad the redhead didn't feel any guilt since he added: "I still want hugs though."

The bed creaked loudly as Mihawk turned on his side and moved closer to Shanks, which was pretty quick since this bed was smaller than their usual king size. The lawyer's toned torso pressed against Shanks' warm back. Mihawk also put his arm around the redhead's waist so his hand rested on his equally toned but slightly red-haired stomach. Shanks sighed contentedly at being held by Mihawk from behind, he had certainly missed that feeling since last night.

"Big baby," Mihawk accused playfully in his ear.

"Yours," Shanks corrected cheekily.

Mihawk made a small noise as he made himself comfortable against the redhead, the tension abruptly disappearing from his body, "mine," he confirmed before his breathing calmed down as well.

Shanks fell asleep a few seconds later and, as expected, was woken up a few hours later by Luffy who jumped on the bed. He didn't feel any fatigue even though he had barely slept five hours, not like Mihawk who only agreed to get up when Sabo warned that his coffee was going to get cold. Very quickly, the whole family was gathered in the kitchen which definitely lacked chairs since three people had to remain standing.

So, they all migrated together into the living room because the trio wanted to know everything about Shanks' adventures this past year and even Zoro and Perona were curious. Mihawk was there too since he was as curious as the children even if he already knew a lot - especially about the sinking of the ship. And, of course, Uta helped him add details that made the rest of the family laugh. Shanks didn't want to bother the trio with the negative part of his journey, even though they were quite curious about it too, and kept it light, easily managing to draw their attentions to funnier stories.

They spent the rest of the day glued to each other without the outside world disturbing them. There was the exception since the doorbell rang around one o'clock, but it was only the pizza delivery man who dropped off Mihawk's order. The trio, Zoro and Perona, had insisted that Uta couldn't continue living without tasting pizza, which was quite dramatic, but Shanks agreed with them: if Uta wanted to stay in the family, she had to love Hawaiian pizza like him. Mihawk looked at him with disgust when Shanks shared this thought with his young protégé and he just smiled because it was an old debate between them.

The rest of the afternoon passed just like the morning: more stories were shared, laughter echoed throughout the house, and bonds that had been frayed by a year of absence were easily mended. Towards the end of the afternoon, the boys finally gave in and showed him their new rooms: Ace in the basement, Sabo in Ace's old room, and Luffy still shared his room, but with Zoro this time. The new organization was quite confusing but Shanks hoped to remember it quickly.

"So Dad did all that?" he asked while he was downright impressed by the quality of the work. He never knew Mihawk was such a good handyman, the three rooms were perfect and exactly suited the boys' tastes.

"No," all three boys laughed before Ace admitted, "Beck and your crew did it."

"That's what I was thinking," Shanks breathed with relief.

"But Dad chose the decoration," Sabo added with a big smile, "...they did everything in secret to surprise us at Christmas."

"It was great!" Luffy shared excitedly, "we each had our own rooms like you promised! But then Zoro and his sister came and now I'm sharing my room again..."

"Hawkeyes already told you: you can sleep outside if you're not happy," grumbled Zoro who had accompanied them.

"No, I'd rather be with Zoro!"

Shanks watched fondly as his son jumped on Zoro's back and decided that Mihawk was probably right. Speaking of his husband, Mihawk called them at that moment because the meal was served. He had prepared something quick thanks to Uta and Perona who had stayed to help him downstairs; they preferred to talk among themselves rather than endure the screams of the boys.

The rest of this evening was a replica of the evening before: they ate in a good mood, stayed up late, and the couple fell asleep in each other's arms.

Life began to return to normal the next day, well, almost. Ace, Sabo, Luffy, Zoro, and Perona had to return to school despite the complaints of the trio who wanted to stay with Shanks. Except that behavior wasn't to Mihawk's taste and he threatened to bring them in himself if they didn't calm down. They finally complied and Shanks accompanied them to his -?- car to wish them a good day. The house was much quieter after Perona took the car out of the garage to take the terrors to school.

However, Uta and Mihawk stayed at home. The young girl had nowhere to be since she was not enrolled in school and the lawyer had started teleworking for the next few days. When the boys had argued that it wasn't fair that they were going to school while Mihawk stayed home, the lawyer had argued that he had paperwork to fill out.

Shanks initially thought that Mihawk was going to lock himself in his office and abandon him all day, which was the case. Except Shanks was easily distracted by his 'crew' visiting him. Lucky, Yasopp, Limejuice, Hongo and everyone else had all come to check if Beck hadn't lied. So, busy with his friends who asked him for explanations, some cried, and gave him reports of their own adventures, Shanks didn't even notice the day passing. He hadn't seen the run of the hours or that Uta had joined Mihawk at one point to help him fill out administrative paperwork. So, Shanks was quite surprised when his friends left and he was attacked by the trio who jumped on him as soon as they got home from school.

The week passed in a dream worthy of a fairy tale. Shanks had visitors every day including old friends and family - Shakky and Buggy. So, Shanks didn't have a second to himself. He didn't have time to get bored although repeating the same story over and over again was quite boring. And he barely noticed the absences of the children or Mihawk when he had to physically return to work. The evenings were still his favorite times since his whole family, which was no longer so small, was gathered in one place.

Honestly, Shanks fell asleep exhausted every night. Yet, despite the springs that bit into his back with every movement and left him sore in the morning, he had never slept so well in a year as with Mihawk by his side.

However, his daily life, which looked like a radiant sun accompanied by a blue sky, was still darkened by gray clouds.

The first cloud presented itself in the form of a police officer with white hair despite his young age. He introduced himself as Smoker and, judging by the cold look Mihawk gave him, was not unknown but was not appreciated either. So he was the famous Smoker whose name Shanks had read on an email and who had been tasked with finding him. If Shanks could give his opinion, which he totally did, Smoker wasn't very good at his job.

The interview lasted two hours as Shanks was forced to testify about his side of the story in front of a microphone. He couldn't restrict himself on the details and had to explain to the minute how the Red Force's engine had been sabotaged by a size 14 falcom key, how he had chosen to stay behind of his own free will despite the storm, and how the violent shipwreck almost killed him. He even had to describe losing his arm and getting his scars, which Shanks would have liked to keep to himself. Firstly, because they weren't good memories and secondly because Mihawk was there as silent support. There were mental images that his husband didn't deserve to have and that Shanks would like to forget, but he couldn't now that he had his memories back.

Once this part was over, Smoker explained to Shanks the progress of his investigation and how he was still looking for the saboteur. This wasn't what surprised the redhead the most. No, he was much more surprised when Smoker asked him for the list of his enemies, except that Shanks didn't have any, right? He wasn't a saint, didn't consider himself one, but had never been evil enough for anyone to want revenge.

Mihawk walked Smoker outside after the interview was over and didn't return right away. Shanks would have liked to hear the conversation that was secret enough to merit closing the front door, but Uta came downstairs at that moment to make sure he was okay. Mihawk came home five minutes latter but his expression was as impassive as ever and Shanks could not guess the subject - positive or negative - of the conversation.

The second cloud was when Mihawk lured him into a trap. Shanks should have known something was up when Mihawk decided that an outing would do them good. Nothing suspicious happened in the morning as the couple introduced Uta to the city from the park to the swimming pool, the museum and other charming places. They went to Ray's gym around 2 p.m. and Shanks thought Mihawk just wanted to train, except the pair walked out just as quickly, leaving Uta behind. It still wasn't enough to awaken Shanks' doubts because he was already imagining all the activities they could do in their empty house. Well, until Mihawk pulled into the hospital parking lot instead of their house.

Shanks looked at the hospital blankly, "did you hurt yourself somewhere, lovebird?"

"No," Mihawk replied, removing the key from the ignition, "we're here for you."

Still confused as he was sure he hadn't been injured recently, Shanks turned to Mihawk, "why? Am I hurt somewhere?"

"You need a CT scan after having amnesia for a year and I would like Dr. Traflagar to check your arm. My visit to Skyepeia did not convince me of their emergency care offering."

"I'm fine," Shanks assured, although he was touched by Mihawk's attention to him.

"I don’t want to take the risk."

"Hawky...," Shanks started because this whole situation was pretty rich coming from the guy who wouldn't go to the hospital under any circumstances, even after a lot of blood loss or potential cracked ribs from being pushed too hard on the tatami or to have a fever of forty-two degrees celsius. Shanks could write a trilogy on the number of times Mihawk had flat-out refused to go to the hospital after an injury so yes, everything was fine with his head.

"Fine, don't go, it's not a big deal after all," Mihawk replied in a harsh tone. "I'll say a prayer that you won't get amnesic again the next time you get a blow to the head, no matter how insignificant it may be."

Shanks opened his mouth to reassure his husband but the elder was quicker: "don't even dare say that I'm exaggerating because you don't know. We won't know exactly how your head is as long as you refuse to have it checked by a professional. What I do know, however, is that we were lucky this time and that won't always be the case. What if your memories fade again and a magical kiss isn't enough this time? Our children cannot go through this again..."

The 'me neither' hovered in the air around them, unspoken but yet perfectly clear.

Shanks placed his hand on Mihawk's clenched fist and said softly, "Okay, let's go."

He was still convinced that his head was fine, even if a small part of him was starting to doubt it, but he would still go for this check-up if it was enough to calm his husband down.

"I'll buy you a lollipop if you behave," Mihawk mocked once they were out of the car.

"I'd rather suck you off," Shanks cheekily replied with a smirk and a wink that made Mihawk sigh. The older man looked at him with a death glare and Shanks laughed, "alright, strawberry flavor then."

Doctor Trafalgar found nothing unusual and reassured them enough for the couple to relax.

The last bad cloud appeared suddenly on Friday afternoon while the children were at school and Mihawk was somewhere between his work and the supermarket. Shanks opened the door after someone rang, not expecting to find Mihawk's colleague at the door of his house. Well, Boa and Jinbei had already come to greet him and there would be nothing unusual about Crocodile or Doflamingo coming to visit Mihawk or him if they were feeling in a charitable mood. Except that it was always an unpleasant surprise to come face to face with Teach; Mihawk didn't like his colleague and Shanks didn't need another reason.

"Mihawk is not here, you can go back," he said in a harsh voice, closing the door slightly behind him.

"Good, it’s you I came to see."

Shanks crossed his arm across his chest and raised an eyebrow to show that he was listening but not necessarily interested.

"It surprised me to know that you came home, in a good way, of course," Teach laughed loudly, "so I came to see if you and Hawkeyes were okay."

Shanks hesitated, not knowing if it was a trap or not, but ended up politely saying, "we are good, thanks."

"So you don’t know?"

"Know what?" Shanks immediately asked without being able to help himself. He was quite curious by nature which Teach had just used to his advantage. The man's smirk made Shanks regret his impulsiveness.

The smirk widened and Teach waited a few seconds to let the tension build before saying, "I guess he didn't tell you. I understand that, if I were him I wouldn't want my husband to know I kissed someone else while he was away."

"He- what? If you came here to spit your venom…," Shanks began in a menacing voice and his clenched fist was ready to strike at any moment.

Teach shrugged innocently, "I'm just being an honest man by warning you. That kiss looked pretty hot between Hawkeyes and Akainu. But hey, who am I after all to start such a rumor?"

Shanks' eyes narrowed and he took a step forward. He wanted to hit Teach, yet he couldn't move because he heard the honesty in the miscreant's voice. Teach was an idiot, had a mean streak, and he thrived on the chaos he himself created. Still, Mihawk had admitted that Teach was many things but not a liar. Teach always made sure to have proof to be beyond reproach. So why would he lie now? Why would he come all this way to tell him this news personally?

Except what was this stranger's word worth against Mihawk's? His allegiance was and always would be to his husband. Firstly, because it was easier that way, to believe in Mihawk's innocence rather than imagining him kissing another man, and secondly, Shanks believed in the preemption of innocence. The redhead would trust his love as long as he didn't have concrete proof.

"Get out," he warned and Teach obeyed even though he was still laughing. If only he could make this man swallow his teeth...

Mihawk's car pulled into the driveway just as Teach got into his car. At least the two lawyers wouldn't have to talk to each other. Unless it was a bad thing because then Shanks would have known from Mihawk's mouth if it was true or not. Except that staying in the shadows had its advantages, Shanks decided when his husband, so strong, intelligent, and handsome, got out of the car.

"Can you help me carry the groceries?" Mihawk asked as he opened the trunk of the car when he realized Shanks was at the front door but didn't move. He nodded mechanically and headed to the car to help carry the groceries. Shanks hoped Mihawk didn't recognize Teach, but it wasn't his lucky day: "What does Teach want?"

"He was being an idiot as usual," Shanks replied harshly before forcing himself to calm down. He was angry at Teach, not Mihawk, and he had to force his body to remember that. Shanks had been back for less than a week and the last thing he wanted to do was start a fight with Mihawk.

The lawyer hummed, looking towards Teach's car driving in the distance, "did he say anything to you?"

"N-no, why? Are you afraid he'll say something compromising?" countered Shanks who was hoping that Mihawk would tell him the truth himself or better, that he would promise him that there was nothing to know.

Instead, a small smirk appeared on his husband's face, "Teach is mad at me because we were competing for the Skypeia project. Do you think I should thank him for his incompetence? After all, it's because he's an idiot and an incompetent that I found you."

Shanks laughed freely, the weight on his heart disappearing, because it was just that: a badly made revenge. Teach probably hoped to create discord between their relationship to hurt Mihawk. Well, too bad for him, because that was not going to happen. He grabbed as many bags as he could carry before asking, "What's for dinner tonight? I'm starviiiiiing."

"You're worse than Luffy..."

"Ugh, no one is worse than Luffy," Shanks laughed as he closed the door to their house for Mihawk and left Teach's confession behind.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14. A part outside the machine.

If the beginning of the week had been like a fairytale, then the end was a harsh back to reality.

It started with a movie on Sunday afternoon that only Shanks watched. Luffy had insisted that they all watch a feature-length anime film and most had reluctantly agreed. However, Luffy had already lost interest in the film about twenty minutes later, preferring to draw with Zoro because of his short attention span. For their part, Sabo and Ace were playing together on their phones, or at least that's what Shanks had deduced from their incomprehensible mumbling. The two girls in the group were also looking at their phones since they were more interested in Uta's first day of school tomorrow than in the movie.

The latter excuse was understandable and preferable and Shanks was infinitely grateful that Perona was helping Uta acclimate to this new world filled with unspoken rules that didn't exist on Skypeia. Uta's outfit had been carefully chosen in agreement with Perona and Boa who had accompanied them to the shopping center for the necessary Shopping session. Shanks wasn't sure if Shopping was an activity truly necessary for his survival, except that he didn't really have a say since Mihawk forced him to try on clothes in a fitting room. The things he would do for his husband...

Said husband didn't even pretend to be interested in the movie from the start. Mihawk had only agreed to stay with them in the living room and planned to pass the time by reading a book. Except that the book was now on Mihawk's lap, unread because the eldest was also on his phone. And Shanks could know a phone conversation when he saw one. He didn't lean closer to see who Mihawk was talking to, although he did want to.

Instead, Shanks resigned himself to his fate and tried to concentrate on the talking dogs. Not only was he the only one watching the film, but it was also not exciting if Shanks preferred to analyze his family's behavior.

Would he be a horrible person and an even worse father if he said he was bored around his family? It had to be honest, the movie was rubbish and no one was trying to make it interesting since they were all focused on their own world. Could Shanks use the excuse of filling the bowl with popcorn to not come back? Or maybe Chopper would save him? But no, the golden retriever was sleeping soundly with his head on Luffy's legs.

No, Shanks didn't want to leave. He wanted to clap his hands and remind them that they were supposed to watch a movie instead of using it as white noise. Excep,t that he would need a second hand for that and he didn't feel justified in doing it. His family had clearly continued to live without him, which was great, except Shanks now had to adjust to this new dynamic where the boys had grown up without him for a year and were now teenagers seeking their independence. Ace and Sabo were thirteen years old so it was logical that they preferred video games to the children's movies that Luffy had chosen. Besides, it wasn't Shanks who had pursued an anti-telephone policy so far.

When Ace and Sabo were upset about not having phones when they were 10, Mihawk had retorted that he and Shanks had spent their childhoods without them and had done just fine. Shanks hadn't really agreed because the phones could be useful and they didn't have to be new generation smartphones. Except that Mihawk had had some damn good arguments as usual and Shanks had agreed with his husband.

Smartphones had invided their home in his absence and Shanks was beginning to understand why they were a scourge: Mihawk and his SMS, online games for Ace and Sabo, the girls and social networks, and even Zoro used his phone to show a drawing model for Luffy.

The situation was both infuriating and exasperating but Shansk said nothing and endured the rest of the film because if Mihawk saw nothing wrong then why would Shanks? He was the cool dad after all.

The end of the evening improved considerably when Chopper asked to be taken for a walk after dinner. Instead of just Ace going, the whole family went with him after the teenager said he wanted to show Shanks his new passion. This time there was no phone in sight as everyone's hands were full of ice cream cones. The sun began to set without anyone noticing, Shanks was impressed by Ace's skill with his skateboard; Luffy and Sabo were bothering Uta and Perona; and even Mihawk stopped monitoring the time when Zoro attacked him after finding two sticks of equal length. In fact, if they came home late it was because of the two swordsmen ; Zoro always asked for one last fight and Mihawk did not refuse him.

However, the reality hit Shanks even harder on Monday morning when he watched the whole family rush to school or work while he had no obligations. He heard them getting dressed and arguing. The chaos intensified as they ate breakfast and Shanks came downstairs. He wanted to help them somehow, but Mihawk had everything under control. The lawyer had already checked that all the children were dressed before feeding them a quick but balanced breakfast : cereal, fruit, fruit juice or milk, and chocolate bar. The only thing Shanks did was to say goodbye to the kids before they left, Ace first with his skateboard and the rest in his former car.

"Are you going to be okay on your own?" Mihawk asked him while he was already all dressed in his irresistible black and purple three-piece suit. The costume was starting to look out of season, but it gave Mihawk a dark look which more than made up for it.

"Yeah, don't worry. We're going to have fun with Chopper."

Mihawk nodded slightly before leaning in for a goodbye kiss, "I might be home late tonight," he whispered against Shanks' lips.

"I can prepare tonight's dish if you want," Shanks offered hoping to at least have something to do today.

"Everything is already prepared," Mihawk replied as he grabbed his leather bag and the last thing he said before leaving was: "you have the whole day to yourself so take the opportunity to relax."

Shanks was left to his own with these wise words. He had no children to care for, Chopper requested no attention from where he slept in his basket, and Shanks had no way to get to his work. The garage was completely empty except for the boys' bikes, and his credit card was contributing to marine pollution somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. So, stuck at home which was becoming more and more oppressive as the seconds passed and the silence persisted, Shanks decided that following Mihawk's advice was the best he could do. Not that he had anything to do anyway.

The redhead retrieved some clothes from the plastic boxes that Ace and Zoro had retrieved from the attic last week. The problem with leaving their bedroom, which included a dressing and a small shower room, to a 16-year-old girl was that she needed a lot of space. However, the kind of portable curtain rod that Perona had bought had quickly been overwhelmed by her collection of colorful clothes and the only solution that Mihawk had found was to empty Shank's side of the dressing.

On paper, Shanks understood the logic behind this choice, in reality, he was slightly offended to have been so easily put in a box and in the attic. So he didn't really look through the boxes and put on the first sweatpants and t-shirt he found.

Then he went back downstairs and settled into the couch. If he had nothing to do then Shanks decided to go through the series and films he had missed in a year. The first step was obviously to pour himself a beer even though it was barely eight in the morning which he accompanied with popcorn. The second step was just as easy since it consisted of turning on the TV and selecting the Netflix application. Once the holy grail was activated on the parental account rather than those intended for the children, Shanks didn't immediately notice that something was up.

Certainly, the icon was the same as the one he had changed two years ago, but the offers of films and series did not correspond to any of his tastes. Since when did Shanks like historical and animal documentaries or movies about serial killers? No, that was pure Mihawk. So his husband had finally used their account to watch something, which was a good thing. Except that the advanced search was now biased.

Not being bothered by this setback, Shanks selected his watchlist... which was empty. His eyes widened as he realized that all his hard work - because yes, spending hours on Netflix watching shows and saving them was real work - was gone. Everything had gone from his favorite movies to the shows he had sworn to watch and Shanks felt his stomach do a weird flip down.

Shanks found his answer in the username which read "Hawkeyes" rather than "Cap't'n". Oh. So it was Mihawk's account and not his. Oddly enough, Mihawk had never been interested in getting his own account before since he much preferred books to the big screen and Shanks usually had to coax him into watching anything with him.

It was true, Shanks remembered the first time they had seen the first Lord of the Rings together and Mihawk had spent the four hours - they had watched the extended versions - pointing out every detail different from the book. The only compromise they agreed on was that Viggo Mortensen was hot. It had been the same when they watched Harry Potter, Hunger Games, Game of Thrones, etc., because Mihawk was a bookworm and Shanks loved him for that, but he was much more of a movie person.

Finally, despite this unpleasant find, Shanks managed to find the spin-off of Game of Thrones which was enough to cheer him up.

Midway through the second episode, Shanks grabbed his phone to look up the cast on Instagram when he realized two things. The first was that he hadn't reinstalled Instagram on his new phone, or any social media apps because he had been so busy with his family. The second was that his memory may have returned, but Shanks had never been able to remember his passwords. He gave up after the third failed attempt and decided to retrieve his notebook where he had written all his passwords after changing them and forgetting them. Except, Shanks was forced to realize the problem when he had the correct password but the error message continued to appear.

So Shanks searched the Internet for his accounts but his profile photo -taken on vacation where he smiled at the camera and wore Ray-Bans- never appeared, as if his presence on the networks had never existed.

Confused and unsure of what to do, Shanks called Mihawk, the man who always knew anything about everything.

"Your social media?" repeated Mihawk who seemed in quite a hurry, "I deleted them all."

"What? why?"

There was some noise on the other side of the phone and Mihawk replied, "I have to go, I'll see you tonight."

Shanks wanted to express his incomprehension again, but only three beeps answered him. He looked at his new phone with his new number and concluded that he just had to make new accounts. A new life for a new start, Shanks supposed with feigned joy. He didn't want a new start, he wanted to be his old self with his old phone that kept all his contacts, photos and videos, and the same accounts. Because Shanks wasn't one to make cheesy photo albums, he kept everything on his phone or a drive and posted the photos he liked best. Except Mihawk had deleted everything without a backward glance.

Shanks spent the rest of the morning reinstalling all his apps and recreating accounts until Chopper demanded to be fed.

The afternoon was just as boring and Shanks was almost done with the series when the kids came home after their extracurricular activities. None of them asked for his help with the snack, each one fending for themselves.

Indeed, Sabo greeted him with a hug, ate banana slices on a Nutella toast, and locked himself in his room to do his homework. Zoro then entered with Perona and Uta, the two girls having encouraged him during his training. The older teenager fed the younger two before bothering her little brother until he took out a notebook to pretend to work. And Uta didn't have any homework yet, although she was excited to tell him about her day step by step. Finally, Ace came home much later than the others, said he had already done his homework and locked himself in his world with his headphones in his ears.

Only Luffy helped Shanks feel useful, the boy inventing an excuse to attract his father's attention to himself. It was nice to feel appreciated and needed even if it was just for simple subtractions and additions.

The table was set and the meal was ready to be served when Mihawk returned home around 7:20 p.m. At least he hadn't lied about being slightly late. Once again, only Shanks seemed bothered by this 8 a.m. to 7 p.m., probably without a break, that his love had just done. However, the children did not worry since they had waited in the living room until the adult returned and only moved when Mihawk had abandoned his lawyer's hat for that of a parent - or he had washed and changed.

The shower hadn't done much to hide the dark circles under Mihawk's eyes, but the older man pushed past his fatigue as he listened to the children talk about their days while they ate.

"Oh, by the way, the car is making this funny noise and has a light on," Perona warned once Uta had finished recounting her day for the second time.

"I'll take the car to the garage tomorrow. You can take mine while you wait," Mihawk replied, dealing with the problem and finding a solution without thinking twice.

Shanks frowned at this answer which disturbed him to the point. He didn't like the way Mihawk spoke: as if having to take the car to the garage wasn't going to disrupt his schedule or that he didn't need his car to get to work tomorrow. Worse, as if Shanks wasn't there to fix his car.

"That's not necessary, I can fix the Chevy," Shanks said without hesitation since he had fixed his car enough time now. The car wasn't old and didn't have a lot of mileage so it must have only been a small problem. Mihawk must not have thought about taking the cars to a garage for servicing since it was always Shanks who did them at Yasopp's friend's house. Besides, it wasn't up to the lawyer to think about that kind of detail.

Mihawk blinked tiredly before turning to his right and his golden eyes widened when he saw Shanks sitting next to him. For a second, Shanks felt like Mihawk had forgotten that he was there, that he was back with them. But it was only for a second and Mihawk quickly shook the surprise from his eyes, "that would be appreciated. Actually, speaking of cars, my secretary is going to send you some car models for you to choose one."

"For what?" Shanks asked in confusion.

"I called several dealerships to see if they could adapt one of their models to your disability and some can. If you find a model you like, I will call the dealership back and within a month or two you will be able to drive again."

Tears almost came to Shanks' eyes because while he had felt bad all day, Mihawk managed to make him feel better in one sentence. Of course, Mihawk had deleted his social networks, but had made sure to facilitate Shank's return to real life. The Smarphone, the telephone line, the bank card which had arrived in the mailbox finally that afternoon, and many other details, it was all Mihawk. Cold in his pragmaticity and simplicity, yet so intentional in his love.

Then, Shanks smiled softly and thanked him.

Unfortunately, the feelings of invisibility and uselessness hit him hard when Shanks woke up to an empty house tomorrow morning. He had missed the general waking up by an hour and his whole family had already left. Well, here's to his chance to be a better dad...

Instead of remaining idle, Shanks searched the house for something to do until he came across a pile of clothes to iron. It wasn't his favorite thing to do, but it was still better than doing nothing. So, Shanks collected the basket before setting up the ironing board in the living room to watch his series while working - he was a multitasker like that. Ironing with one hand was tedious, at least at first, since Shanks easily figured out how to adapt. He divided the clothes into several piles for each child, Mihawk and him, and they grew quite quickly.

In fact, Shanks had finished ironing the clothes he had washed earlier this morning when the front door suddenly opened. Surprised, Shanks left his post for the entrance of the house. Maybe one of the kids forgot their money for the cafeteria or finished early? Unless one of them escaped from school? But no, it wasn't the children.

Shanks blinked as he saw Mihawk coming home without his briefcase, but with an orange envelope in his hands, and a suit completely ruined by a pink substance.

"What happened to you, love?" asked Shanks, hesitating between laughing and sympathizing with his husband's plight.

"Doflamingo," Mihawk only replied dismissively without offering further detail.

Mihawk was already heading towards the stairs when Shanks hesitantly asked, "Are you staying to eat or are you leaving right away?"

"I'll try but my colleague will come back for me soon," Mihawk replied without making any promises before disappearing upstairs.

Shanks smiled until his jaws ached at the thought of sharing a meal alone with his husband, but he still had some work to finish before he got to that point. So, he put Ace's pile in his room first and stopped for a few seconds to admire the mural that was definitely the work of Limejuice. The fresco was a masterpiece with the three letters sprayed large and flames coming out of them, yet one detail jumped out at Shanks.

Quickly, he placed Sabo, Luffy and Zoro's clothes in their respective rooms using a basket that he strategically wedged against his hip. He stopped at the entrance to the office when he found Mihawk there. The lawyer had stopped undressing halfway, his jacket was gone and his shirt completely open, due to the contents of the orange envelope. From where he was near the door, Shanks couldn't see what it was, but he could see the frown all too well. Mihawk didn't like what he was seeing.

"Hey, Hawky," Shanks called softly as he had just remembered the question he wanted to ask the older man, "why did you put our son in hell?"

Mihawk jumped slightly before blinking and looking towards Shanks as if he hadn't heard him coming, "what?"

"Ace is sleeping in the cellar…," Shanks explained hesitantly as he was suddenly more interested in the unusual reaction than that detail. However, he continued to speak mechanically, "...and the fresco has flames? So it feels like hell, sort of."

"I hadn't thought about that," Mihawk admitted thoughtfully, tucking the orange envelope into a drawer in one fluid motion.

"Are you doing well?" Shanks asked suspiciously because the gesture hadn't been smooth enough to go unnoticed. Mihawk hummed positively before removing his shirt to finish distracting Shanks with his chest. It was a simple and deceitful tactic, but totally effective as the reddish gaze was lost in the chiseled abs. He blinked before managing to ask, "Do you want me to wash your clothes? Mom gave me a miracle cure for stains."

Mihawk agreed and Shanks smiled before going to their old room to empty the basket full of the girls' clothes. He placed the two piles near the wardrobe before looking at the room that was before his and which he would very much like to have back. A week of sleeping on a crappy bed and Shanks was already fed up; his back especially, although he loved having to hold on to Mihawk to keep from falling.

"What are you thinking about?" Mihawk asked from where he was leaning casually against the doorpost.

Shanks turned around before sharing the idea he had just had: "This bedroom needs to be big enough to accommodate your desk and shelves, so we could make a room in two and turn the office into a bedroom for the girls. What do you think?" he added when Mihawk remained silent.

"The house will always be small," the lawyer denied, moving closer, "I've had enough of the boys breaking furniture in their fights. Someone will eventually die."

Shanks hummed, "yeah, I'm not keen on my husband becoming a murderer either. So a new house?"

"It was what we agreed."

The redhead smirked once Mihawk was within reach and he pushed him towards the bed with one hand on his bare chest. The lawyer obeyed the implied order and fell gracefully into the bed, "I love hearing you talk about our future," Shanks admitted before leaning down to take possession of his husband's lips.

Their kiss was not romantic or sweet since it looked more like a frenzied battle of domination and submission: Shanks forced his tongue into the mouth of the elder who responded by biting his lower lip. The redhead moaned not in pain, but in pleasure because he had missed this power struggle. Soft, slow kisses had their good sides, but this? This violent and bruising kiss was the promise of a good fuck. Shanks managed to pull away from his love's peachy lips to bite the spot that would make him moan with pleasure.

Shanks felt the blood that was oxygenating his brain being redirected to his cock which was growing bigger by the second because of Mihawk's meows. The older man held onto the red hair and pushed his hips back towards Shanks's without realizing it. It had to be said that Mihawk's mind was a little occupied by the feeling of Shanks' lips on his neck, nibbling and sucking on it like it was candy, and the hand roaming his chest. Shanks smiled after placing another mark on the pale neck.

"I'll go back to work afterward," Mihawk reminded, tugging harshly on a red strand.

"I know," Shanks replied teasingly, although he returned his attention to Mihawk's collarbones instead of his neck. There he could be as possessive as he wanted since his marks will be hidden under the shirt.

However, Mihawk did not remain passive for long as he easily manhanded Shanks to reverse their position. He grinned like the devil himself now that he was on top and he brushed their erections together. Except that instead of taking advantage of his new position, Mihawk chose to get off the bed.

Shanks almost came right away when he made the mistake of sitting up because then he saw Mihawk voluntarily kneeling between his legs. It was a sight as sinful as it was divine, and Shanks ran his hand through the black hair gratefully.

His grip on the black hair was more than useful once his pants and boxers were at the bottom of his ankles because then he was able to stop Mihawk from teasing him and force him to start already. Instead of complaining, Mihawk complied and opened his mouth. Despite this submissive position, both knew that it was the lawyer who was in charge. His hands easily stopped Shanks' hips from thrusting forward.

Shanks was more than happy to relinquish control to his husband despite his hand getting stuck in the dark hair.

His moans were loud as he had forgotten how hot and wet Mihawk's mouth was or how talented the older man was at everything he did, even that. However, it wasn't Mihawk's out-of-competition skills that made him come, or even the sensation of hitting the back of his love's throat, but the act itself. Because Mihawk was on his knees and sucking him of his own initiative in a gesture of love and desire.

"Sorry," he said, laughing in embarrassment at having come so ridiculously quickly. So much he hadn't had time to warn Mihawk, "I only had my right hand to play with for a year..."

"It doesn't matter," Mihawk comforted him after swallowing the explosive charge. He got up, kissed Shanks to confirm everything was okay, and headed to the bathroom, "I'm going to take a shower."

Shanks looked on sheepishly as Mihawk, still hard in his pants, walked away, "you don't want me to help you?"

"No, don’t worry."

"Are you sure?" repeated Shanks as he fought to keep the feeling of rejection from poisoning his mind, "my right hand is as effective as the left..."

"I would prefer that you prepare the meal so that we can eat together," Mihawk decided before locking himself in the bathroom without giving Shanks a chance to help him.

For two long minutes, Shanks looked at the door without understanding what had just happened. His intestines were in disarray, lost between post-orgasmic bliss and the disappointment of being rejected. Shanks had just wanted to return the favor to Mihawk without insinuating going further than a handjob or blowjob so why had the elder refused?

Finally, Shanks sighed before going downstairs and finding something to eat. He bet on something quick, but one that would stall Mihawk for the end of the day. And, as he suspected, Mihawk arrived in the kitchen just as Shanks had finished preparing their super sandwich. Mihawk had not put on a suit, relying instead on a polo shirt whose collar he had raised to hide the marks that Shanks had left on his neck. At least it wasn't a complete defeat, but that morning left a bad taste in Shanks' mouth and it wasn't the sandwich's fault.

They had finished eating when Mihawk's phone vibrated once, "my ride is here. I'll see you later," he said jumping out of the high chair.

As usual, the married couple kissed before Mihawk left and Shanks couldn't shake the feeling of being a docile housewife. So what? Mihawk had just fulfilled his marital duty and made sure his little wife was fulfilled before leaving for work?

Anger building in Shanks, he half-opened the window curtain to watch his husband leave. Instead of appeasing him, this act angered Shanks even more because Mihawk's 'ride' was Akainu. If it had been Boa, Jinbei, Crocodile, or Doflamingo, Shanks wouldn't have given it a second thought, but Akainu?

That kiss looked pretty hot between Hawkeyes and Akainu

The last thing Shanlks wanted was to let Teach win, to let those words poison his mind, and to forgot the vows he had made in the Shin Sekai town hall. However… However, Mihawk accepted the helmet Akainu handed him and rode the motorcycle in a familiar gesture as if it was not the first time he rode behind his boss. Mihawk's hands clung to Akainu's waist. The man was taller, stronger, and more massive than Mihawk who looked ridiculously small but comfy. Shanks's hand threatened to tear the curtain.

Was it because of Akainu that Mihawk rejected him earlier?

Was Mihawk used to ride something else than Akainu's bike?

As he started his motorcycle, Akainu looked towards the house, towards Shanks, and he smirked before leaving.

That kiss looked pretty hot between Hawkeyes and Akainu

Shanks swallowed, but he forced himself to let go of the curtain and grabbed his shoes. He was going to suffocate if he stayed locked in this house for another second. He needed freedom and plenty of space, otherwise he was going to do something stupid like pry into his husband's privacy. It would be so easy, Shanks knew in which drawer the orange envelope was hidden or what was the computer's password.

Instead, he grabbed his new credit card and Chopper's leash before seeking advice from his best friend.

However, the surprise that awaited him at his company only worsened his mood.

"I'm sorry, sir. I can't let you in."

Shanks looked at the new secretary he didn't know and lost his smile when he noticed she was serious, "I'm Shanks, the owner of this company."

"Do you have an ID card?" asked the secretary, unconvinced.

He took off his sunglasses, but even then she didn't seem to recognize him. Okay, he had new scars and was missing an arm, but was he really that different from his old self? Last time Shanks checked, his hair was still flamboyant and his smile charming.

"I don’t need it," he said with his best smile, "my face is right here," and he pointed to the poster behind the secretary.

She looked at him, then at the poster, and again, but no recognition flashed in her eyes, "I'll call security, sir."

"Well, go ahead," Shanks replied, exasperated.

The secretary, Jaël, grabbed the phone and did just that. They waited in silence until security arrived: Shanks inspected the poster-filled walls and his sadness grew when he saw a photo of the Red Force; and Jaël looked at him with confidence knowing that this strange man would quickly be expelled.

"Boss!" exclaimed Bonk Punch, the head of security, seeing Shanks and Chopper stuck in the company's lobby, "what are you doing there?"

"She won't let me in because I don't have a badge," Shanks replied, pouting slightly to add drama to his words. However, he couldn't hide his joy at seeing his old friend again.

Bonk Punch towered over the poor secretary with his tall stature before telling her, "the boss doesn't need a badge to enter."

"Uh… uh… well, I…"

"Don't worry," Shanks said with a teasing wink, his anger already forgotten now that the misunderstanding was cleared up, "mistakes happen to even the best of us."

He then retrieved Chopper's leash and followed Bonk to Beck's office after he insisted on accompanying him there. Shanks didn't need help finding his way around his building, but the thought was touching, especially as he took advantage of the walk to laugh with his friend. Strangely, the walk to the office was longer than usual and it took Shanks a few seconds to realize they were taking a detour.

"Why didn’t we go through the great hall?"

"It’s under construction," Bonk replied with a small, apologetic smile.

"Too bad, I love the bay window overlooking the port…"

Well, at least he wouldn't have to see the hole in the port where the Red Force should have been.

Beck was busy when Shanks entered the office uninvited - he had inherited the building when his father died so no doors were closed to him - so he settled on the couch and let Chopper tour the room.

"What are you doing here?" Beck asked once he finished his phone call.

"I can't visit my best friend who I missed so much?" Shanks asked cheekily. Beck raised an eyebrow and the redhead let his walls crumble. It was quite literal as Shanks sighed before leaning his weight back against the couch, "I'm bored out of my mind at home! There's nothing to do! I need to do something or I'm going to go completely crazy. Mihawk already has everything prepared or under control or he will have all under control and won't let me do anything! And even the children don't need me! I've become useless, Beck."

"You're not useless," Beck comforted him. He grabbed a cigarette from his pocket before adding, "You're having trouble finding your place back, that's all."

"Well, it would be easier if Mihawk gave me some space..." Shanks said because, surprising as it was, even for him, his anger at his husband had not yet faded.

"He spent the last year looking after three, then five children alone."

"I know…," Shanks muttered.

"It's not easy for him to let go of control so suddenly," Beck continued and Shanks had the strange feeling of being scolded like a child.

"I know," Shanks repeated more harshly than he intended, "I know all that!"

"Then why are you acting like a brat?"

"And why are you defending him?" Shanks asked angrily as he stood up. "You're my best friend. You're supposed to support me by saying 'it's a tough road back, Shanks, but you'll make it'."

Beck raised an eyebrow at the redhead's unfair anger, "I'm not defending Hawkeyes. I'm just explaining his point of view. Why are you upset?"

"I don't know…," Shanks admitted, completely defeated, before sitting back down on the couch.

Beck sighed since he hated melodrama, but he had been the redhead's unofficial psychologist for years now and this wasn't the first time he had suffered Shanks' wrath after he had a fight with Mihawk. He still hated the dejected expression on the usually cheerful and carefree redhead's face. So, Beck pondered the problem for inspiration. When he finally figured out how to soothe Shanks' frayed nerves, Beck said, "You were lost for a year at sea and it's not just a geographical reality. You were so lost that you forgot yourself and maybe you're not exactly back. Physically, you're there is undeniable, but mentally it's a whole different story. Maybe you're trying too hard to go back to the old you, Shanks."

"So who am I supposed to be?"

Beck shrugged, "It's up to you to find out. The only clue I can give you is this: your disappearance has not only left its mark on you, but on your family too. The boys are hardened and have gained autonomy, yet does that mean they don't want you anymore or that they aren't relieved that you're back?"

Shanks thought about his return and how the boys had clung to him. They had been as happy to see him as he was to be back. They were always so happy to find him home when they returned from school even if they no longer needed him to do their homework. He smiled fondly at the memories, "no, I don't think their love for me has changed."

Beck raised an eyebrow in his best, "see?"

"Forgive my anger, Beck," Shanks murmured with a guilty little smile, "you know how I get when I'm left to my own for too long. Which brings me to my second point: can I come back work tomorrow?"

Against all odds, Beck destroyed Shanks' hope: "no, it would be better if you stayed home a little longer."

"What?" Shanks asked, outrageously shocked. He understood that his house no longer needed him to run, but his business? The shipping company was his's. Shanks had asked Beck out of kindness, but his friend had no legal right to stop him from coming back.

"The school holidays will start in a few weeks and I'm sure you'd prefer to spend the summer with the boys."

"Well, yes, but…"

"Understand me, Red," Beck added to keep the redhead from falling into his anger again. "Makino is due in September and I want to be with her and the baby, so I thought I'd let you take over at that time. So by then, you'll have found yourself as a person, a husband, and a father. And then, I still have a few projects to finish as a substitute."

"So I'm useless here too," Shanks realized with disappointment.

"I can explain what we did in your absence if you want," Beck offered to draw Shanks' attention to something else.

So they spent the entire afternoon going over in detail the changes Beck and the others had made to the company in his absence. Excitement replaced anger as Shanks realized what the guys had done. The high-pollution transport company had renewed its focus on renewable energy and the protection of the ocean as Shanks had wanted. Before the Red Force's final voyage, Shanks had called a meeting to announce the plans he had in mind for the company; projects that would no longer involve having to travel as much and allow him to stay close to his family.

Beck, Lucky, Yasopp, Limejuice, Bonk, and all the others had worked hard during this past year to make his wish come true.

Seeing the thick file of modifications still in progress, Shanks understood why Beck would be reluctant to give way to him. The projects would be completed faster if Beck was still in charge than if Shanks picked them up halfway.

"Oh and have you seen about cleaning the seabed with our boats?" Shanks asked with stars literally shining in his eyes.

"The government beat us to this project."

Shanks was disappointed that his great idea was not realized because of the government but this bad news was not enough to dampen his newfound good mood.

They even found a compromise for Shanks to return to work part-time when Beck promised to send him more files to keep his mind busy.

The return trip was easier than the way to the company since Beck had driven him back. A real smile lit up the redhead's face when he got home because he was excited to be back. Yet, it was when Beck was parked in front of the house that Shanks remembered Akainu and Mihawk.

"Hey, Beck? You looked after the kids when Mihawk couldn't, right?"

Beck nodded from where he was busy scratching Chopper between his ears, "I shared the load with Rayleigh."

"Hmmh, and has this happened often? You or Ray taking care of the kids I mean."

"Not much at first because Hawkeyes refused our help, but it happened more frequently a few months before your return."

"Why?" Shanks continued to press for an answer.

But Beck shrugged, "I didn't ask."

Shanks sighed in disappointment before removing his seat belt. He was no further along in that regard, unfortunately.

"Do you think Hawky could have gone on dates with other guys?" he asked anyway before getting out of the car.

"Maybe," Beck replied, shrugging again. Sometimes, like here, Beck's accommodating and non-curious side was quite annoying. His best friend didn't like gossip and if he knew any, he made a point of not sharing them even with Shanks if he didn't see the point. Now, there was an important point here, but Beck remained silent. For what fucking reasons? Shanks didn't know but he hated it.

"It's okay, forget it," Shanks grumbled as he opened his door, but he was held back by Beck.

His friend made a strange noise as if he wasn't supposed to share something but decided otherwise at the last second, "while you were gone, Hawkeyes had this way of talking like...like he was dead inside and that he was no longer capable of having any feelings. His eyes were dull as if he were nothing more than an empty shell. So if there's one thing that this trying year has proven, it's Hawkeyes's love for you."

Shanks nodded now that he was reassured and got out of the car with Chopper running between his legs. The dog was happy to come home and Shanks had to admit that he was too. He had complained a lot today, but there would never be anything better than taking off his shoes to the indignant cries of the boys.

"Seriously, Dad," Sabo argued in a commanding tone, "you have a phone so use it."

"Yeah, it's not cool to leave without texting us," Ace added, arms crossed across his chest to appear intimidating.

Luffy tried to imitate his brothers by saying "yeah, we thought you were missing again" but he failed as he was too cute to be intimidating.

"Sorry, sorry," Shanks laughed, scratching the back of his head; he hadn't expected to be argued with when he came home, especially not by the infernal trio.

Like the day before, they sat down to eat when Mihawk came home after Boa dropped him off this time and she stayed to eat with them. At least Boa was much less shy than Mihawk and she recounted how Dolfy bothered the eldest to thank him for pushing him to sign up for the Sykpeia project. Obviously, Mihawk refused on numerous occasions which pushed Doflamingo to prank him with a homemade cannon and pink dye. Mihawk did not seem happy to hear his humiliation told but he suffered in silence for the amusement of the children who were laughing loudly.

Emboldened by his conversation with Benn, Shanks waited until Boa had left and the children were all locked in their rooms before returning to the charge. He snuck up behind Mihawk like a lion hunting its prey, waited for the right moment to strike, and embraced his husband as soon as Mihawk had his hands in the sink. His chest pressed against a muscular back, his hand on a firm chest, and he tilted his head to breathe in his husband's scent.

"Surprise," he whispered sensually into Mihawk's ear who leaned into his touch.

"I saw your reflection in the window," Mihawk replied without any bite; he had seen Shanks approach behind him and let him catch him without defending himself after all.

"I'll have to make up for it then," Shanks lamented before placing kisses on the thick neck. He had learned his lesson this time and didn't bite, just taking advantage of the moment to be close to Mihawk. He let the smell of the cologne, the feeling of the willing body, and the calm breathing make him forget his doubts. Mihawk was with him now, not Akainu, and he let Shank express his love for him.

Well, up to a point.

"Shanks," Mihawk growled in warning, "the children might…"

"The kids are in their rooms playing on their screens. There could be a tornado and they wouldn't hear it. We're safe," he said between kisses. Shanks became more and more daring. His hand that was previously rubbing the hard abs through the shirt began to move lower, "we just need to be quick."

"I don't think…," Mihawk began before being cut off by Shanks who bit his earlobe and sucked on it teasingly.

Only Shanks could make the strict lawyer lose his temper because he knew exactly which button to press; no one else could please Mihawk like he could and Shanks intended to make sure of that.

"...I still have to finish to clean the dishes," Mihawk finally replied, his breath becoming short and his hands clenching on the sponge underwater.

"I'm not stopping you," Shanks cheekily mocked. He chuckled softly as he heard Mihawk suppress a groan to remain silent. His husband had always been a fast learner. So, knowing they wouldn't be caught in the act, Shanks' hand grabbed Mihawk's belt to open it, "besides, I still owe you an orgasm."

For a short moment, Mihawk said nothing and Shanks felt justified in opening the belt. He continued slowly and unbuttoned the navy pants before sliding the zipper down. Shanks wasted no time and slipped his hand into Mihawk's boxers to get straight to the point and it was when his hand met a semi-hardness that the older man reacted.

"No," Mihawk ordered abruptly, tapping Shanks' hip with a wet hand to force him back, "I said no. I don't want to…," but Mihawk cut himself off just as abruptly, unable to continue his sentence and admit what he wanted or not.

Shanks regained his hand as if this brief contact with Mihawk's member had burned him and he backed away, frightened by this reaction. He blinked, unable to comprehend that Mihawk had refused him again. No, Shanks refused to understand what he might have done.

It wouldn't be the first time that Mihawk, prudish and strict, had been reluctant to have sex in a public place and Shanks, here, had thought that was just that. It had happened that Mihawk initially refused him before giving in to Shanks' tantrums because he wanted it just as much, if not more. It had always been a game. Now this was the first time that the call was final: Mihawk had said 'no' and Shanks had almost not listened.

Especially, for the first time in his life, Shanks felt ugly, unwanted, and unwanted because of his missing arm. He didn't know where this insecurity about his physique came from since he had never felt it in his life. All he knew was that he was missing an arm while Akainu was still fully formed, although they were equal in facial scarring. Was that why Mihawk rejected him twice in a day? Because the stump sticking out of Shanks' shirt disgusted him?

Shanks felt hurt deep down. Yet, between pain and anger there was only one step and Shanks took it quickly, without feeling any guilt.

"I understand…I understand…," Shanks grumbled, leaning against the kitchen counter and crossing his arm across his chest, "you must be pretty exhausted after this rough day. Your schedule is so full that you had to write 'give oral sex to the idiot'. Because for you I'm too stupid to understand that you're hiding things from me?"

Mihawk didn't respond verbally but his body visibly tensed which was a response in itself. Shanks' anger rose several notches when he noticed it, "What was the big plan? Knowing you there had to be one. You must have thought that sucking my cock would be enough to keep me stupid and docile while you were getting fucked by your colleague, so is that it?"

There was a short silence, Shanks hoping that Mihawk would respond that he was wrong and that nothing had happened. Except that the eldest didn't take the bait.

"Your marital obligation is fulfilled after all," Shanks scoffed. "Of course, you won't let me touch you if Akainu or more have already taken care of you."

Shanks should have stopped there, but the problem was that anger was his worst enemy and always made him say or do things that he would hypothetically regret later. He was hurt now that he knew his presence was no longer needed under his roof and in his grip and by Mihawk's two rejections and it was so much easier to give in to anger and blame someone else for what he felt.

Then he continued in a harsher voice: "I guess it's not your fault. I love Rayleigh and I respect him in many ways, but we all know that Hinata left because he cheated on her several times with Shakky and other women. Your mother is not better since she is a 'liberated woman'. She changes guys like shirts and sometimes wears two at the same time… it must be a family thing then."

Finally, Mihawk reacted. He moved away from the sink to join Shanks. Except that instead of issuing a sarcastic retort that he was so accustomed to, he stuck in the wet sponge on Shank's chest and said flatly: "If you have enough energy to utter such nonsense then you can also clean the dishes."

So that was what the dead voice Beck was referring to? Shanks wondered, grabbing the sponge before it fell and watching Mihawk walk away.

Feeling that anger was still boiling in his veins, Shanks decided to use his impulsiveness to be productive. He aggressively grabbed the pot that Mihawk had started cleaning and began scrubbing harder than was necessary. Shanks cleaned the rest of the pots in the same stages of irritation. When he quickly ran out of utensils to clean, he opened the dishwasher and collected the dirty dishes to clean them by hand.

His anger had a lot reduced when Shanks had finished shining the dishes and put everything back in its place on the shelves. He looked at himself in the window and saw a stranger there for a second. What was wrong with him? What had he just said to Mihawk? Shanks knew his anger had been legitimate because he didn't deserve to be pushed away twice without receiving any explanation, but using Mihawk's family, especially Hinata, against him was just mean.

He sighed before turning off the kitchen light and going to bed. Shanks was hoping to have an adult conversation with Mihawk, to explain his insecurities and doubts, when he saw that the office light was still on. Mihawk was already settled under the covers and reading a book when Shanks entered.

"Mihawk…," he began unsure of how to explain what he felt.

Except his time to speak had already passed and he had wasted his only opportunity.

Mihawk closed his book, turned on his side, and closed the light in a clear sign of his own anger. The lawyer remained tense as Shanks lay down next to him and, although he felt the reddish gaze on him, he pointedly ignored him.

A thick silence settled in the room, neither of them was asleep, but neither of them spoke, although Shanks didn't lack the desire. However, he did not dare to speak and even less to move a muscle. He felt like a hurt prey stuck with an angry predator and he would be killed the second he dared to break the silence.

Either way, Shank's chance completely passed when he felt Mihawk's body relax slightly, the pressure in his shoulders easing a little, and his breathing calming down. The lawyer had fallen asleep. Shanks did his best to do the same, but the tension refused to leave him. The more the minutes passed, the more his uncertainties about his place in this family and his appearance threatened to suffocate him.

"he spent the last year caring for three, then five children alone."

"Hawkeyes had this way of speaking as if he was dead inside and he was no longer capable of having any feelings."

"If there’s one thing this trying year has proven, it’s Hawkeyes’ love for you."

Yeah, there was the guilt too.

That kiss looked pretty hot between Hawkeyes and Akainu

Frustrated that sleep was denying him its doors, Shanks left the bed, the room, and the house with Chopper at his side. If there was one thing he hadn't forgotten in Skypeia was his need to run to clear his head of all unnecessary thoughts. So, Shanks plugged his wireless headphones into his phone, turned up the rock music until his eardrums broke, and started running.

Shanks ran in an unknown direction until the voices quieted, his insecurities disappeared, and he burned off all the excess energy that was keeping him from sleeping. He stopped only when his legs burned and Chopper could no longer stand the fast, relentless pace.

"Fuck," Shanks groaned, his breath heavy, his body covered in sweat and a fog weighing down his tired mind.

Chopper barked before clinging to his master's legs, afraid of being in an unfamiliar area.

"It's okay, buddy, we can go home now," Shanks sighed before turning around, running more slowly than before. The goal was no longer to chase away all the negative that consumed him, the proof being that he raised the volume of the headphones to a more correct level, but to return home and to his family.

The house was still silent and dark when Shanks returned almost an hour later. The run had helped him a lot and he was ready to fall unconscious into his uncomfortable bed. Before that, Shanks didn't intend to annoy Mihawk any further than he had already done and he intended to clean himself up and change out of his sweatpants before going back upstairs. Even before this step, Shanks was thirsty so he headed to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

He jumped, terrified and surprised, when he saw a shadow in the kitchen. Shanks removed his headphones, ready to fight, even though he was probably in the presence of a ghost. Except Chopper didn't get into a defensive stance and he completely ignored the ghost in the kitchen. Instead, the dog left Shanks to his probable death and went to bed somewhere in the house. So, Shanks stepped into the kitchen to get a better view of the ghost and sighed in relief when he recognized Mihawk.

"Damn, you scarred me off," Shanks whispered so as not to wake the children who were still sleeping. He thought he hadn't spoken loud enough since Mihawk didn't respond. Then Shanks asked louder: "Hawkeyes?"

Mihawk's only response was to crush the wine glass in his hand and fall to his knees without ever noticing Shanks' presence in the room.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15. Fixing the broken pieces.

The wine spilled quickly from the broken shards of the stemware, spreading across the cold granite before dripping, drop after drop, onto the floor. Some drops of wine followed the wooden body of the island, but it didn't matter which path, more or less long, more or less rapid, they had chosen because, in the end, all the drops came together at the same place. There hadn't been enough of the dark, fruity liquid in the glass to create a pool on the light tiles, but enough to leave a bloody mark.

The moon's rays gave an unreal appearance to the scene where the kitchen was stuck in an in-between space between what is and the unimaginable. Between a world where Shanks would have better managed his anger and one where regrets paralyzed him enough to prevent him from moving. For there, between the drops as dark as blood and bathed in the faint rays of the moon, was the strongest person Shanks knew. It wasn't just a physically biased statement, no. His husband was as mentally as physically fit and he was a double Olympic champion, several times world champions, and even more national champions.

Mihawk was the lighthouse in Shanks' storm: he stood alone on a hill, so tall and strong that he was visible for miles from the shore, and his light was so bright and warm that Shanks could never get lost.

Yet, everything changed over time and distance and even the strongest lighthouse could suffer damage if the storm was too violent, vicious, and persistent. The lighthouse's foundations were cracked, its body covered in sharp brambles that burrowed deep, and its light was beginning to flicker, fading further and further with no promise of ever coming back on. In any case, that was the mental image that settled into Shanks' mind as he helplessly watched the fall of his precious lighthouse.

Mihawk had collapsed after Shanks said his name as if the redhead had pushed him off the cliff he was barely hanging on to. The lawyer was on his knees between drops of wine, his right hand clenched into a fist pushed against his chest, and his breathing was too fast and short.

"Mihawk?" called Shanks hesitantly without knowing how to react to this unusual, unexpected, and unprecedented turn of events.

In response, Mihawk's breathing became even more ragged and deep, as if he was searching for a breath that was no longer there. Only three small words managed to break through the trembling barrier, "s-stop…don't leave …"

Shanks' own breath caught in his chest because he had never seen his husband so broken, not even the day he was caught in the act of self-harming. The usually monotone voice was filled with so much desperation as if Mihawk was begging.

Shanks took a step forward because he couldn't leave Mihawk in his misery despite their argument. Except, before he could do so, the redhead was jostled by two shapes who rushed into the kitchen and to their father's side. Ace and Sabo ignored the spilled wine and knelt next to Mihawk to help him through his panic attack. They touched Mihawk to let him know they were there, that he was not alone, and talked to him until the lawyer was seated against the furniture.

"Dad's hurt," Sabo whispered to his brother after he managed to unclench Mihawk's fist to examine the damage, "he has broken glass stuck in his hand and he's bleeding."

Ace nodded before retrieving the first aid kit hidden under the sink. It was Shanks who had put it there when they moved in because the kitchen was close to the garden and the boys had a dangerous rate of getting injured. There were other first aid kits hidden around the house but this one was much closer. The eldest of the trio took advantage of being up to turn on the small spotlights in the kitchen before handing the first aid kit to his brother, "here."

For once, the boys did not argue over the distribution of the task, they even fell into a dynamic that resembled a routine. Enough to make Shanks wonder how many times the three of them had been in this position. Mihawk panicked and disoriented as the two boys looked after him. Shanks knew it was his place to comfort Mihawk and that he should do something, except he remained a silent spectator, unable to move or help.

Sabo gently held Mihawk's large hand in his smaller ones. He removed the small pieces of glass one by one with a professionalism that was worrying for a thirteen year old boy. The pieces fell to the ground and the wine mixed with the blood. Then came the antiseptic with a little "I don't think stitches will be necessary" and Sabo applied a bandage to his father's injured hand.

For his part, Ace had made sure that the panic attack disappeared. He held Mihawk's left hand to his chest to show him how fast a normal heart was supposed to beat and whispered, "Come on Dad, even idiots know how to breathe."

Mihawk didn't answer which was okay since Ace didn't seem to be expecting one. Instead, he let his father collapse against him with his head on his frail shoulder. Ace's hand was lost in Mihawk's black hair to help him relax and it worked, the elder's breathing calmed down after a few minutes. Mihawk's breathing continued to slow until it was clear that he was falling back asleep.

"What are we doing?" Ace whispered without stopping playing with the soft black locks.

"We try to see if he's coherent enough to handle the stairs, if not, we put him on the couch?" Sabo suggested, standing up.

Ace hummed and he gently pushed Mihawk's shoulder to wake him up. Then the two boys worked together to convince their father to stand up and lean on them.

"Come on Hawk-man, you have to help us," Ace grumbled as they passed by Shanks.

Except that the boy was not talking to his second father, but to Mihawk to encourage him to work with them. Eyelids half-closed and eyes still blurry, Mihawk obeyed silently. Slowly, the procession moved away from the kitchen and towards the stairs when the boys were assured that their father could handle them.

Unsure of what to do, Shanks followed them like a malfunctioning robot except he was stuck at the entrance to the stairs. The boys and Mihawk were protected by Perona who was leaning against the railing, "well, that was a good job," the young woman remarked sarcastically, addressing Shanks.

"Excuse me?" he asked because he didn't really like the young woman's tone.

"I was just praising your wise decisions," Perona remarked before starting to count Shanks' mistakes on her fingers: "treating your husband more than shit, yes, I heard your argument; leave the house in the middle of the night without leaving a note; and let thirteen-year-olds do your work."

"I…"

"How did you think Hawkeyes would react to waking up in an empty bed with you nowhere to be seen after a year? You weren't there and he freaked out, it's not that hard to understand. You better to catch up with him," Perona threatened as she came down the step so that they were face to face, "…Hawky took us in when we had no one else and was nice to us. So we're maybe not your children, but we care about him and we're the resentful type,. You better watch out or Zoro will quickly find a new training partner."

Perona left for the kitchen when she was sure Shanks had gotten the message.

A glance at the stairs dissuaded him from going up to check on Mihawk because Shanks didn't want to upset him further and Ace and Sabo knew what they were doing. At least, more than Shanks who was lost in his guilt. So he lay on the living room sofa and waited for sleep to come.

The next morning, the first rays of morning woke Shanks from his short night. He lay there for a few moments without trying to move because the memories of the day before suddenly hit him. And then, Luffy came down, jumping the steps two at a time and Shanks was hit by a little monkey eager for a hug. Luffy turned on the TV to cartoons and sat comfortably on his father to watch them. Shanks didn't scold Luffy and hugged him instead, taking advantage of his son's presence to forget his guilt.

They had finished the first episode, Luffy explaining to his father the plot of the series with vague details - a ladybug girl and a cat boy defended Paris against a butterfly? -, when the sound of footsteps echoed on the stairs; soft and slow, it was Mihawk. Other footsteps followed him, a sign that it was the end of the calm and that the day had officially begun.

And what a start it was...

Mihawk didn't head towards the living room even though he had heard the TV or Luffy. Instead, he got straight to the point and dish noises confirmed that he was making breakfast. The clanging of bowls and glasses on the granite revealed that Mihawk was pretty upset too. Which was confirmed when he yelled at Luffy.

"Oh…oh…," the eleven-year-old whispered as he jumped off the couch, "dad's mad. It wasn't me!"

"I know," Shanks replied sadly before following the boy into the kitchen.

The whole family was already seated when they arrived and they ate in silence. Everyone understood from Mihawk's silence and frown that he was in a bad mood and no one was crazy enough to play with the former swordsman's nerves. Even Uta, although new, had understood that something was wrong and was not humming as usual. For their part, Ace and Zoro were fighting fiercely to stay awake.

For the first time in almost two weeks, Shanks could practically count the flies flying around the house.

"Hey, guys," he greeted softly so as not to attract the attention of the dragon who was busy on his phone. Mihawk was so busy with his screen that he was the only one not to greet Shanks back. Although Mihawk was still aware enough of his surroundings to take the buns out of the toaster before they burned and handed them to Luffy.

"Is Dad hurt?" Luffy asked curiously as he noticed the bandage surrounding Mihawk's hand.

"I cut myself," replied the eldest after looking at his hand for a long time as if it was the first time he noticed the bandage there.

The lie could have been credulous if the children did not all eat cereals or spreads of jam on already sliced sandwich bread. So Mihawk hadn't used a knife this morning and even he didn't know what had happened, otherwise he wouldn't have taken so long to respond. It was then obvious, to Shanks anyway, that Mihawk didn't remember what had happened.

What was even more obvious was the look Ace and Sabo exchanged. The two boys seemed to be sharing a silent conversation filled with frowns and shrugs. They only stopped when Perona nudged Sabo and pointed to her phone. The message was clear: the conversation would end by message away from prying eyes and with words.

Nevertheless, Shanks was happy to realize that he had been able to decipher the beginning of the conversation, but worried because he had learned: this was not the first time that Mihawk had done something at night only to forget it in the morning.

He wanted to join the conversation because he was sure the three older teens knew things. Enough to launch a covert operation behind Mihawk's back. Except at that moment a horn sounded outside the house and Mihawk walked away from the kitchen counter, "I'll be home late tonight. Perona, you will order food."

"It's no use, I can prepare something to eat," Shanks offered with a shy little smile, hoping the situation wasn't as messed up as he thought.

Except that Mihawk didn't answer him, didn't even look at him, and left the kitchen as if he hadn't heard anything at all.

If Shanks had felt like he had been made invisible on Monday, he was now officially as transparent as a ghost since Mihawk pretended that the redhead wasn't there with them.

Well, the situation was definitely screwed up which was to be expected after the filth that came out of Shanks' mouth last night. He had thought, wrongly, that last night's accident would have reduced Mihawk's anger, except that the older man didn't even remember his panic attack. Maybe it was karma catching up with Shanks. He shouldn't have expected to be forgiven so easily after mentioning Mihawk's parents in their fight.

Driven by a masochistic impulse, Shanks went to the entrance of the house to spy on Mihawk through the window. His husband exchanged a few words with Akainu before putting on the helmet that was handed to him. Then, Akainu shifted to make room for Mihawk who rode in the front rather than the back. Mihawk took his time straddling the large motorcycle with a large, unnecessary, but seductive leg swing; either to seduce Akainu or to annoy Shanks. Both clearly worked since Akainu felt justified in draping his large body over Mihawk to explain to him how to operate the bike. For his part, Shanks imagined himself explaining to Akainu how a punch in the nose worked - in a friendly manner of course...

Mihawk, having had his motorcycle license for years, did not need much explanation before starting the engine and removing the stand. They were gone a few seconds later without looking back. Thus left alone to his own devices, Shanks returned to the kitchen where the children had finished lunch and started clearing up.

"Leave it, I'll take care of it," he murmured, feeling strangely defeated after witnessing this scene and even the delighted applause of the children did not cheer him up.

He began clearing the table and cleaning the dishes without much enthusiasm once the children had left to school. Shanks didn't want to be a housewive stuck at home with the sponge and the dog as his only friends but the argument from the day before and Mihawk's panic attack were still playing on his mind enough that he didn't even want to complain. So Shanks cleaned everything with the greatest care: Ace's flame bowl, Sponge Bob for Luffy, a hat-shaped for Sabo, a classic green for Zoro, the "it's complicated to be a princess" for Perona, and even Uta had her personalized bowl with a cat on it.

It was while cleaning Mihawk's coffee cup that Shanks realized that the elder had not prepared him breakfast, unlike the previous two days. If the sponge hadn't been clear enough, this 'forgetting' was even more so: Mihawk, angry and hurt, would make no further effort until Shanks apologized.

Disappointed, Shanks decided that his first step towards repentance was to repair the Chevvy to show that he was still useful to this family. Before that, he went upstairs to dress in old, already stained clothes. Ripped jeans and a white t-shirt stained with motor oil would be perfect, Shanks decided as he looked around the glass.

He was about to leave the office when curiosity got to him. It was bad. He knew it was wrong and that he had already trampled on Mihawk's trust enough for a lifetime… but Shanks was tired of the lies and secrets. He deserved to know the truth that Mihawk was hiding from him. So Shanks walked over to the solid oak desk and opened the drawer he had seen Mihawk open yesterday. Bad luck for him, the drawer was empty and the envelope had disappeared, Mihawk had left with it this morning.

Finding the problem with the car was more complicated than Shanks had imagined. The small part that needed to be changed was hidden under the engine and almost inaccessible from above or below. That and Shanks only had one hand to help himself. So this little problem took him most of the morning just to identify it, find it, and retrieve the damn piece.

He finished just in time to welcome the children home since they didn't have school in the afternoon and came home earlier than usual around 3 p.m. So, since it was not late, Shanks changed into a more decent outfit before knocking on Perona and Ace's bedroom doors to ask them to come with him to the auto parts store; the teenager because the store was fifteen minutes from home by car and Ace because Shanks wanted to teach him a few things.

Just because Shanks hoped to continue the tradition Roger had started by teaching him how to fix a car didn't mean he wasn't following a secret goal. In video game parlance, Shanks would be performing a secondary task. In reality, he had stuck Perona and Ace in the car for a thirty-minute round trip.

"So," he began nonchalantly, leaning on the seat in front of him from where he was sitting in the middle seat behind, "which one of you wants to start telling me what's wrong with Mihawk?"

Ace and Perona shared a frightened look that was far from discreet and Shanks smiled inwardly.

Perona coughed lightly before spitting out, "The problem is you weren't cute to him!"

"No, this is between Mihawk and me," Shanks interrupted with a bit of authority.

"It's the problem of all of us if you two argue," Ace replied harshly, "Uta just showed up and Luffy idolizes you too much for you to break up."

"It's just a little argument, no one has talked about splitting up."

"For now," cut in Perona, who was fully invested in the discussion even though she was driving at the same time. They would all be dead if the young woman scratched Mihawk's Chrysler.

"Mihawk is going to break up with me? Do you know something? Tell me!"

"I didn't say that," Perona protested to reassure the father and son who were both looking at her with concern, "just...Hawk-man deserves a husband who treats him well. I know he would be the shiny knight in the story and all that, but does that mean he doesn't deserve his Prince Charming? You acted like a really uncute toad last night."

Shanks sighed as he sat back properly against the leather seat, "I know, that's why I gathered you here…"

"Flowers," Perona decided, "you make up for it by buying him a big bouquet of roses."

"Flowers are kitsch! The gift must be original and come from the heart."

"So do you have an idea, half-portion ?" Perona mocked Ace's newly acquired romanticism.

"Yeah! We need a jar with lots of caring words that Hawk-man can open when he's not feeling well!"

Perona laughed, "and where did you get this idea?"

"Pinterest," Ace admitted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Guys, you both have good ideas," promised Shanks who was touched by their thoughtfulness towards Mihawk. They were almost as invested in this problem as he was and Shanks loved being able to trust and lean on them. Plus, their ideas were really cool. "I also have a gift idea for Mihawk…"

"What is this?" Perona asked him, cutting him off for the second time in less than two minutes.

"It does not matter…"

"Tell us, old man!"

"Yeah," Perona agreed with a smirk, "tell us or I'll drop you off here."

Shanks gulped as he felt the blood rush to his cheeks, "I...well...Mihawk's birth mother was very Catholic to the point of creepy. I remember the times we visited the Silvers when they still lived in Shin Sekai and there were always crosses or photos of Jesus in at least one room. With Bugs we even exchanged a photo with that of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Hinata never realized it...."

Shanks laughed loudly at the memory of him and Buggy coming up with a whole strategy to replace a photo of Jesus for Obi-Wan in Star Wars II after seeing someone on the internet do it. Their plan had been perfect until Mihawk caught them in the act, but he had let the eight-year-olds have all the fun.

"...the point is that Hinata had convinced Rayleigh, who had never been religious, to baptize Mihawk when he was a baby. To celebrate the event, Mihawk's grandparents had given him a medal from the archangel saint-michel. He wore it all the time, so much so that it became a good luck charm after the death of his gran. She told him that they would always be with him through this necklace and he believed it."

"So this necklace is precious to Hawkeyes," Perona guessed, touched by the story.

"Yeah, I've never seen Mihawk not carry it. He even held it in his hand sometimes when he was stressed about a competition or worried."

Ace turned to Shanks, his eyes narrowed in confusion, and pointed out, "But Dad doesn't wear a necklace."

"He did it when you were young," Shanks countered sadly, "except the chain broke when we were at the beach. We searched in the sand for hours hoping the locket didn't fall into the ocean."

This memory was quite painful even if it wasn't Shanks who had lost a precious possession. Yet, seeing the disappointment written on his husband's usually detached face, Shanks felt like he was losing a part of himself too.

"It doesn't matter," Mihawk had said with a small shrug that didn't hide the sadness in his eyes, "the chain belonged to my grandfather, it was too old."

Shanks then placed his hand on Mihawk's, smiled softly at him, and said with all the conviction he possessed, "We're not leaving until we find it."

"Don't be crazy, Red. It could be anywhere. It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack."

"I'll search the whole farm for you, babe," Shanks replied with a wink before grabbing a shovel, "will you boys give me a hand?"

"Luffy buried it as his treasure," Ace, who was seven years old at the time, remembered with difficulty.

Shanks nodded sadly, "he hid it too well and we never found it."

They ended up returning to the vacation rental late and the adults had no trouble feeding, bathing, and putting the three exhausted boys to bed. Mihawk hadn't said anything the whole way back since he was lost in thought. He had remained just as quiet when they were in bed together, but he had held on to Shanks for dear life.

"I'm sorry I failed, Hawky," Shanks had whispered, his hands holding his husband tightly against him, "I should have paid more attention to what Luffy was doing."

"It wasn't your faults," Mihawk had replied so softly that Shanks barely heard him. Several minutes of silence passed before Mihawk added, "I feel like I lost them again."

"Oh, love, come here…"

"I promised Mihawk I would buy him a new one, but I never had the time. So I thought it would make a nice gift to redeem myself and for my return. I can't forget that it's thanks to Mihawk if I'm with you now."

"And that'll win you points against the jerk in the Hawaiian shirts," Ace confirmed with a little victory sign, "we'll have to find a jewelry store afterward, ghost girl!"

Perona nodded before pressing the gas pedal a little harder, "I already have one in mind!"

Shanks smiled until his cheeks started to hurt because their motivation was contagious and he would be delighted to have their opinion on the chain and the medal. They were almost to the auto parts store when Shanks remembered why he had brought them together here: "by the way, I really want to make it up to him, but I can't if I don't know things... Perona, yesterday you said Mihawk panicked because I wasn't there. Did that happen before?"

Once again, the two teenagers looked at each other and they finally agreed to tell the truth.

Ace nodded once before admitting, "Hawk-man takes pills to help him sleep. He didn't want us to know but Sabo and I… we stumbled across them," the boy whispere without much conviction. "The most important thing is that the pills have side effects. Well, Sabo searched the internet and found some. He said there were uh…"

"...the pills can cause sleepwalking," Perona added when Ace looked at her for support, "and can increase heart rate. There's irritability too, but we haven't noticed any change in that side."

"On that side?" Shanks repeated worriedly.

"There was this one time before we moved rooms... Dad freaked me out because he was in my room in the middle of the night. I called him, but he didn't didn't answer so I woke up Sabo and we put dad back into bed together."

"I found him in the hall once," Perona added with a shiver and whispered, "not cute at all."

Ace nodded, "And the time he fell asleep in the bathtub."

"So... Mihawk is sleepwalking because of the pills," Shanks deduced as he thought about each words. He trusted the two teens but, aside from yesterday, had never felt Mihawk leave the bed in his presence. Damn, Mihawk's sleep seemed normal so far.

"Yeah," Ace confirmed quietly, "but he doesn't know that. Hawk-man never has any memory of it the next day."

Shanks nodded since he had witnessed the scene this very morning, "what about the panic attacks?"

"That was the second time tonight," Ace replied before his eyes were drawn to something else, "we're here!"

They got home two hours later, Shanks carrying Ace in his arm because the narcolepsy had hit him halfway home. The task wasn't as tedious as it sounded since Ace wasn't heavy and Shanks was used to carrying his son. In addition, the redhead was also two thousand dollars lighter because of his numerous purchases: the part for his Chevrolet, cleaning products for both cars, plus the gold chain, engraved medallion, and the pizzas. But Mihawk was worth every penny spent especially if his husband forgave him and the gifts convinced him to talk to Shanks.

Which didn't happen that evening.

As promised, Mihawk came home later than usual, around 9 p.m., and he flatly ignored the slice of pizza waiting for him on the counter. Instead, he poured himself a cup of coffee, visually checked that the children were okay, and locked himself in his den. Shanks waited almost an hour before daring to go upstairs, he had hesitated between sleeping on the sofa again or joining Mihawk upstairs. His courage finally won out when Shanks remembered what happened the day before and the conversation he had with Ace and Perona.

He knocked before entering but received no response and he entered as silently as possible so as not to disturb Mihawk who was focused on his computer. Mihawk's fatigue was accentuated by the soft light of the screen but he showed no signs of stopping as he typed on his keyboard at regular intervals. Shanks sighed helplessly before sitting down against the headboard and waiting for Mihawk to join him.

The silence was so heavy and deep in the room that Shanks decided to break it by finishing his series on his phone. He kept the volume low still in an attempt to not disturb his husband, although being argued would mean Mihawk would talk to him. Except that Shanks could have turned the volume up and the eldest still wouldn't pay any attention. He would stop to think, sip his coffee, and continue writing.

Shanks took his courage in two hands when his episode was over and he informed Mihawk: "We took a road trip with Perona and Ace today to the auto parts store. My car will be repaired tomorrow..."

Mihawk didn't react to the good news except for his upper lip curling into a smirk. They both knew what the hidden message was: "I fixed your car so you don't have to be near Akainu anymore."

Shanks felt an anvil settle on his heart at being ignored like this and he sighed before watching the last episode; he fell asleep in the middle, lulled by the soft sound of Mihawk tapping rhythmically on the keyboard.

***

The root of the problem was their anger management.

Shanks had always considered that life was only worth living if he always gave his best, which made him impulsive and led to anger that escalated very quickly. He exploded just as quickly because he was unable to handle this anger as vibrant in color as his hair and he had no filter between his thoughts and his mouth. He always spoke freely about his joy, his pain, and his anger. For his part, Mihawk's anger was more gradual since it consisted of multiple levels: a tick of his lip, a slight raise of his eyebrow, and, if pushed sufficiently, a remark as rapid as murderous. So Shanks' anger was hotter, red, and Mihawk's anger was colder, blue.

It was the same observation afterward. Since Shanks' anger burned out as quickly as a match, he moved on very quickly. His excess rage was out of his body and he could come back to the good-natured and simple man he was. But Mihawk's anger was melting as quickly as an ice cube in an iceberg and it took a long time for him to forgive.

So it wasn't the first time that Shanks would say something wrong -sometimes without realizing it- and that Mihawk would shun him for one to a few days. Typically, Mihawk would become monosyllabic or be very dry. So it was a first for Mihawk to completely ignore him and act as if Shanks wasn't there. It was awkward and the redhead felt like he was walking on eggshells in Mihawk's presence as if the lawyer was a ticking time bomb.

It was also the first time that Shanks' warmth failed to thaw Mihawk. For good reason, Shanks was drowning in his guilt for having triggered Mihawk enough to physically hurt him - the bandage may have been gone but the cuts were still there - and he blamed himself greatly for it. However, he didn't forget the kiss and what could have happened afterward. It haunted him even at this point. Imagining his husband putting his lips on someone else's for unknown reasons and consequences without knowing who kissed better... yes, that whole thing had gone to Shanks' head.

So, Mihawk was still just as angry the next day, or even worse. He left at the same time but returned much earlier around 5 p.m. At least, that was what Shanks had thought but Mihawk stayed just long enough to get his car keys and left with an impatient Zoro to take him to his training. It was a quick visit in good form, no unnecessary chatter and Mihawk didn't even take the time to change. The passage had been so quick that Shanks didn't even have time to tell him the good news that the Chevrolet was repaired.

Mihawk and Zoro came home late enough to worry Shanks when the clock read past 9 p.m.; It was a weekday and the lawyer would have to be more attentive to Zoro's sleep time otherwise the kid would sleep in class.

"Shit, I'm turning into Mihawk," Shanks thought as he watched videos on youtube without paying attention. He decided to blame Mihawk for leaving him alone with the children for those two days. Well, more or less, since Mihawk had continued to manage the breakfasts.

Perhaps this was the lesson Mihawk was trying to teach him the hard way: how to manage a tribe of six alone children. And my god it was exhausting... between the permanent conflicts, Luffy's permanent hunger, Ace's narcolepsy coupled with Zoro's love of naps, and the girls who, well without existing, were talking about sex stuff. girls. Makeup? Dresses? Nail polish? Piercings? Okay, Shanks only understood the last one because he had his ear pierced at sixteen - because Rayleigh pierced his ear to Roger's laughter, who quickly calmed down when Rouge yelled at him .

Zoro looked dead on his feet when they got home, but also incredibly satisfied. When Shanks asked him if he had won, the teenager nodded and added: "Hawkeyes took me to a bar, but he didn't want me to drink alcohol..."

"I didn't say that," Mihawk replied as he entered next, "you could have drink if you had beat me."

"Same thing," Zoro pouted before being intercepted by the trio who all shouted at how unfair it was that the green-haired teen had been allowed where they had never been able to go; Shakky loved her grandchildren but cared even more about her bar.

Mihawk seemed back to normal when he spoke to the boys and explained that Zoro had accompanied him to the bar after their training. But the point of normalcy seemed to end with the boys and Uta and Perona when they came down to greet Mihawk. Otherwise, Shanks was ignored again.

Shanks had never been very good at history, yet even he was beginning to understand the concept of the Cold War.

Waking up the next morning, Shanks decided that if Russia and the United States had managed to sign a treaty to end the war, then he too would succeed in breaking the ice between him and Mihawk.

His plan began with a long search on Pinterest to design a 'love jar': "reasons why I love you" in red, "quotes about love" in green, "memories and special moments" in orange, "song Lyrics that remind me of you" in blue, and 'memes' in white. Perona, Ace, Uta, and Sabo had gone very far to help him bring this gift to life; the girls had chosen the jar; Ace had found memes and quotes; and Sabo had designed the little presentation sheet. Zoro hadn't participated because he was busy with Mihawk last night and Luffy because he couldn't keep a secret.

Shanks then spent the morning filling the jar with 365 pieces of paper.

Then, Shanks left the house to buy meat and wine at the supermarket; he stopped at the florist before heading home to get a huge bouquet of black and red roses. With his arm full, Shanks came home only to find a package in the mailbox. He smiled when he recognized the box from the jewelry store; the necklace had arrived a day early! Maybe thanks to the extra Shanks had paid?

Once he got home, Shanks started cooking while whistling, happy that his surprise was finally ready. All he was missing was his husband and he could finally make amends. Then again, maybe Shanks had cheated. He'd convinced the kids to go to the park before coming home and spent an hour pestering Boa to help him too. Her role in this whole operation: she had to convince Mihawk to come home early without arousing his suspicions. Shanks trusted Boa and her powers of persuasion...

…and he was right.

Instead of coming home late like the previous two days, it was 4:30 p.m. when the front door opened and closed and Mihawk took refuge in his office. Shanks stayed in the kitchen for five minutes to give Mihawk time to discover his surprises. And then, his heart beating fiercely because he wasn't sure if his efforts would really pay off, Shanks went upstairs.

He leaned against the doorframe to look at Mihawk who was staring at his desk as if it had suddenly caught fire. The lawyer ran his finger over one of the black roses - his favorite - before noticing the note stuck between two flowers. He gently unfolded it and, as he read the message in his head, his eyes widened and his mouth half opened when he read: "I screwed up… I understand that; I hurt you… I understand that ; I was insestive… I understand that ; but I can never ever lose you… understand that ; I love you genuinely… understand that ; you mean the world to me… understand that ; and I will forever love you endlessly… understand that."

"I know saying sorry isn't enough," Shanks added once he was sure Mihawk had finished reading and noticed the jar next to the bouquet, "and you would have every right not to forgive me. Bringing your parents into the fight was a stupid move. I shouldn't have said that... In fact, I shouldn't have gotten upset at all."

Shanks waited, again and again, for Mihawk to turn around and speak to him, but the elder was busy admiring the flowers. So, Shanks breathed in and out to stay calm and whispered, "You're going to kill me if you don't answer."

"This is not yours," Mihawk finally said, turning to Shanks with the card in his hand.

A long sigh of relief left Shanks' mouth and the tension left his shoulders slightly. Reconciliation was not hopeless if Mihawk was willing to talk to him, although it would still be a long way before he was completely forgiven.

"No... Ace spends a little too much time on Pinterest... But everything that's written there is true. That's how I feel."

Mihawk hummed, but didn't respond, preferring to inspect the jar instead, "what about this?"

"Some of the sentences are mine in there," promised Shanks, who had the strange feeling of sitting in the dock in front of a judge who was going to sentence him regardless of whether his defense was impeccable or not.

"No, I mean the jar."

"Oh, well…," Shanks felt his cheeks blush fiercely before he managed to admit, "it's to make up for the almost 365 days I wasn't here to love you."

Mihawk rolled his eyes, unimpressed, before grabbing a paper and reading aloud: "'My heart Is so full of you I can hardly call it my own'… oh, cheesy," he whispered coldly.

Mihawk thought he might have managed to hide his smile, but he was unable to stop the blood from rushing to his cheeks and to his ears.

Shanks smiled as he noticed the blush. At least it worked. At least Mihawk was responsive to these carefully prepared attentions. At least there was still hope if Shanks didn't screw everything up. But he had learned his lesson now. He was an adult of almost thirty who could have a serious conversation without getting angry and insulting his husband and the father of his children.

The redhead was less sure of his chances of success when Mihawk half-sat on his desk to look at him. The cold golden eyes were fully on him now and Shanks felt quite uncomfortable. He didn't like it when Mihawk looked at him with so little emotion in his eyes. And crossed arms didn't help at all to relax him.

"Do you think flowers and stolen words from Pinterest will be enough to make me forget how you treated me?" Mihawk asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not forget, forgive," Shanks ventured with a guilty little smile.

"Excuse me," the lawyer replied before smirking: "do you think this will be enough to make me forgive you for calling me a whore?"

"I-I never said that."

"Well, the 'Akainu or more' was quite telling of your true thoughts."

Shanks took another big breath of fresh air to chase away the exasperation that was building inside him. He hated it when Mihawk played superior to him because he had a law degree. It was annoying when Mihawk played with words, especially during an argument, because the elder knew that Shanks was quickly overwhelmed.

"I let my insecurities get the best of me and instead of talking to you about it, I got angry," Shanks explained, looking down at his stump.

Mihawk caught the movement and the pain in the redhead's voice and gestured for him to elaborate.

So Shanks obeyed, entering the office now that Mihawk was ready for this conversation, "Teach told me something on Friday… he said that you and Akainu kissed. And at first, I didn't believe him, but...," he sighed with difficulty, "...then I felt alone, invisible and useless. I had the impression that you no longer needed me to take care of the children and that they didn't. So when I saw you with Akainu... I thought you didn't need me on that side either..."

"I didn't realize I'd left you out," Mihawk admitted quietly. "It was not intentional."

"...That's what Beck told me."

For once, Mihawk's smile looked genuine as he scoffed, "I forgot that you shared a neuron for four and that Beck had custody of it."

This mockery was true enough that Shanks didn't get angry. Beck was the thinker between him, Yasopp, and Lucky, and Shanks had no problem admitting that. It was even a source of pride to have such an intelligent and thoughtful best friend to compensate for his impulsiveness and audacity.

"I should have believed Beck instead of Teach. Or better yet, I should have kept faith in you," Shanks laughed self-deprecatingly, "you're too straight in your boots to do that anyway."

Mihawk swallowed slightly and didn't meet Shanks' gaze as he admitted, "Teach is right. I kissed Akainu."

Shanks' eyes widened so much that his vision became blurry and he was sure they were going to fall. Until then, he had only imagined Akainu and Mihawk kissing because of the poison stuck in his head. Except it wasn't guesswork anymore. Mihawk had kissed Akainu or the other way around, who cares?

Reality definitely hurted more than assumptions.

"You… What? How? Why?" Shanks asked hurriedly, walking around the bed to find himself in front of Mihawk, "you would never do that to me."

Mihawk sighed before rubbing his forehead tiredly. He looked so defeated as he whispered, "I can't have this conversation if everything has to be about you. This kiss isn't about you."

"Sorry for being your husband!" Shanks exclaimed in outrage, "you kissed another guy how am I supposed to react?!"

"You're not even trying to understand," Mihawk accused, finally looking at him. His eyes were filled with enough pain to silence Shanks.

How could he talk now? Mihawk had just accused him of being egocentric and Shanks had proven him right. So the redhead kept silent because he was serious about finding his place in this new dynamic and being a better person.

He placed his hand on Mihawk's to get his attention, "then explain to me."

"The kiss was the result of a moment of weakness," Mihawk explained softly after a long search for words. "You give way too much importance to an insignificant moment. The kiss was short and never happened again, I swear."

Shanks wanted to nitpick Mihawk's definition of "important" because this kiss wasn't insignificant to him. His husband had found comfort in someone else, in Akainu. However, he preferred to remain silent rather than insult Mihawk again.

"You must understand," added Mihawk, who took advantage of the silence to empty his bag, "Akainu was my friend when you were not there. It was not a carnal relationship that I needed, but someone who looked at me as a person rather than a ticking time bomb. I was stuck at home taking care of the kids for months and Akainu allowed me to have an adult to talk to. I don't ask you to love him..."

"...well, I don't think I can," Shanks admitted with a small smile.

Mihawk rolled his eyes affectionately before adding: "We owe him a lot, really. Without him…," the lawyer's voice cut off and his eyes shone with tears, "without him, I would have lost custody of Sabo. "

"What?" Shanks muttered in disbelief. Until thirty seconds ago, he was convinced that the kiss was the worst thing that had happened this year. However, the loss of Sabo would have hurt him much more than losing his left arm.

"Outlook III expressed his desire to have Sabo back and be his father."

"What an asshole…," Shanks muttered angrily although it wasn't directed at Mihawk for once, "what happened next?"

Mihawk smirked, "I responded by breaking his nose which caused a conflict of interest and Outlook wanted a trial so I would lose everything. However, a conversation with Akainu dissuaded him from suing me and taking Sabo from us.I felt indebted to him afterward."

"And you kissed him," Shanks guessed.

Mihawk shrugged in silent admission.

They remained silent for a few moments because Shanks needed a few seconds to recover. He would love to know more about the context of the kiss - where? When? was it good? - but it no longer mattered. Not if they had almost lost Sabo because of Outlook's selfishness who had taken advantage of their family being divided to attack. Maybe that was what Shanks had the hardest time recovering from: he could have lost a son when he didn't even remember him and while he was stuck on an island at the end of the world.

Yet his existential crisis seemed of less importance compared to the guilt etched on Mihawk's face. Shanks didn't know what emotional state he might have been in if Sabo had truly been taken from them. And, for that alone, Shanks vowed to thank Akainu.

However, for the moment, he had bigger fish to fry. Shanks placed his hand on Mihawk's shoulder and, like his little gesture earlier, he didn't got pushed away. Then Shanks gently squeezed the strong shoulder under his fingers, "it wasn't your fault. You did your best this year to take care of the children. You did an admirable job. The proof is that the house holds still and it's only thanks to you. I shouldn't have shouted at you, but thanked you for everything you did."

"You certainly took your time," Mihawk agreed with a thin smile, "but if we both have to be honest here then you're right, I intentionally put you aside for certain things. The kiss and Outlook are just the tip of the iceberg," the elder admitted, looking into Shanks' eyes. He looked strangely vulnerable in that moment as his golden irises were lost in memories of the past year. "A lot has happened this past year. And it sees some of the ghosts that I thought were exorcised before your arrival have returned."

Shanks frowned in incomprehension. He knew that Mihawk had just used a metaphor, but did not understand what problem - plural? - the elder was referring to. What could be worse than Outlook returning to get Sabo?

Shanks didn't like the images that flashed through his mind with all the terrible things that could have happened without hom here.

"We need to talk," Mihawk continued with a sad little smile, "but not here, not now. It's quite a long conversation and I don't want the children to hear it because it might scare them."

"Is it that bad?"

Mihawk shrugged, "some parts might piss you off and hurt you."

Shanks nodded in understanding and just then, as if Mihawk was a soothsayer, the front door opened and chaos broke out downstairs. The kids were back from their trip to the park sooner than Shanks would have liked. He now knew that they could feed themselves and be left alone for five minutes and therefore felt no regrets in closing the office door. He wasn't ready to share Mihawk who still looked so vulnerable, sitting on his desk like he might fall if he stood. His eyes were still blurry as if Mihawk was lost in another world. And the deep dark circles under his eyes only accentuated his pale complexion and his vulnerability.

However, Mihawk was still as handsome as the day they got married, even though he was older, stronger, and more tired than when they were young.

But to bring Mihawk back to the present and into this room with him, Shanks only knew one way. He easily closes the gap between them with long strides before letting his impulsiveness win. The redhead cupped Mihawk's hollow cheek to force him to look at him before his fingers were lost in the dark mop of hair and he kissed his husband passionately.

Shanks didn't give Mihawk any chance to fight for dominance like he usually did. This time he was vindictive and brusque. He pressed his lips wildly against those of Mihawk who, far from being offended, tried to respond to the kiss. Except that Shanks didn't ask for entry to the elder's mouth but forced his tongue inside. Mihawk groaned in surprise, but the little noise was swallowed by Shanks' lips who felt even more justified in continuing his assault. He ignored the fire beginning to burn in his lungs to explore Mihawk's mouth and gently tugged on the black hair to tilt his head back for better access.

The kiss was wild, hot, and deep but also filled with all the love that the redhead had for his husband. There were so many. Certainly, jealousy and possessiveness were there too since Shanks sought to prove to Mihawk that Akainu would never kiss him better than him.

And, against all odds, Mihawk accepted the searing kiss and submitted as his arms circled Shanks' neck so they were pressed together.

They were both panting and their lips were bruised when Shanks finally pulled back.

"Just in case these problems are your feelings for Akainu," he whispered possessively against Mihawk's lips.

"No, I've been using him all week," Mihawk admitted without any shame, slumping against Shanks' shoulder and staying there.

Shanks smiled softly as his hand rubbed soothing circles on Mihawk's shoulder, "I know."

Mihawk hummed and his hot breath brushed against Shanks' skin, making him shiver. Nonetheless, he didn't move from his position, his arms around the redhead's neck and his head resting against them. There you have it, the result of three days of insomnia and Mihawk, exhausted, was starting to doze off against Shanks. The youngest didn't dare move, too happy to finally have Mihawk against him after two long days and didn't intend to ruin the moment by walking away.

He still asked to silence his anxiety: "I'm forgiven? I mean... I really tried really hard this time between the car, the jare, the flowers, the beef bourguignon, and... oh... oh ! I almost forgot!"

Shanks removed his hand from Mihawk's shoulder to dig into his pocket for the small black box he had hidden there. Awakened by Shanks' abruptness, the eldest stepped back slightly and accepted his last gift. Shanks unconsciously bit his lower lip as he watched worriedly as Mihawk opened the box and came to a complete stop. It was like watching a computer restart, Mihawk remained unmoved for a few seconds before his eyes widened when he recognized the angel Michel on the medallion.

"It's to apologize for everything I said to you, especially the part about your father and Hinata," Shanks explained nervously while Mihawk remained silent. "I hurt you by using them against you when all you deserve is to be loved. I...I also meant this gift as a thank you for finding me and bringing me home too. If it hadn't been for you, I would still be out there harvesting coconuts and I would never have been able to see our sons grow up."

Shanks retrieved the chain from the small box to show it to Mihawk and he continued: "I know that it is not exactly like your old one and that it will never have the same symbolism. But I promised you to buy one for you and I don't know why I never did. Well, that's not true, I took you for granted all these years. Now I would help you put it on but..."

Shanks pointed to his one arm and his inability to hold two things at once and Mihawk shook his head in amusement, "Thanks, I'm touched. You didn't have to go that far though."

"Well if you don't want it," Shanks teased as he pushed the necklace away.

Except Mihawk still had a pretty good reflex and he grabbed the necklace, "I didn't say that."

Mihawk put it on easily and the medallion fell a little below his collarbones since the chain was quite long. In itself, it fell in the right place since it was its belonged around Mihawk's neck. Shanks was going to be called a hopeless romantic if he said it out loud but he felt like he was finding his old Mihawk who never separated from his medallion.

Shanks gently played with the small round gold medallion before revealing his final gift: "I was tempted to put my name on it when the jeweler told me it was customizable. But I thought it would be too much," he teased with a smirk before raising the locket to Mihawk's eye level so that he could read his grandparents' first names written on it: "Mihal and Agnès"

"You…," Mihawk began with emotion before cutting himself off. He swallowed, looked reverently at the two names, and added, "Thanks, Red."

Shanks was going to say he deserved another kiss, but he didn't have time when the office door suddenly opened to reveal Ace, Sabo, Perona, and Uta. They looked at the close position the two adults were in and their smiles grew.

"So it worked?" Perona asked impatiently.

"Are you good?" Uta added more shyly.

Sabo nodded before confirming, "We really tried hard!"

"Yeah, our ideas were awesome!" Ace added proudly.

The two elders shared an amused look and Shanks shrugged, "I'm curious too."

Mihawk looked at them all one by one and became fully aware of where Shanks had gotten so many good ideas to make amends. He smiled softly before leaving the office and crossing the room to leave the room. His plan was probably to kill Shanks and the children because of his silence. Which worked since Shanks was despairing a little - a lot. But his patience was rewarded because Mihawk turned to him at the last moment and whispered: "We are reconciled."

The kids jumped on the bed to celebrate the victory and Shanks joined them for some well-deserved high-fives.

However, they stopped when Mihawk came back into the room. He smirked seeing all five of them in such a compromising position, especially now that they had all frozen. Except instead of calling them out for their childishness, he asked Shanks, "Is supper supposed to smell burning?"

"Shit!" Shanks cursed loudly before running towards the kitchen to the laughter of the children and Mihawk.

Chapter Text

Chapter 16. A heavenly day.

Like a fairy tale, Shanks woke up to the feeling of warm sunshine on his skin and the sound of birds chirping outside. He felt like he was back in Skypeia, where there were no problems and everything was beautiful and heavenly. Except, his bed in Skypeai never had squeaky springs or a body to warm his sheets.

Shanks opened his eyes to small slits, slowly stretching his body, before looking to his right where, for the first time that week, Mihawk was. His husband was still cradled in Morpheus' arms. He slept on his back, the blanket low on his hips and one hand on his chest. The sun's rays illuminated the paleness of his skin.

Mihawk looked soft and vulnerable sleeping like that. Younger even because of a lock of the lock of black hair had fallen on his forehead and on his eyelid. Funny, just the day before, Shanks would have bet that Mihawk was 43 rather than 33. Yet, watching the peaceful rise and fall of his bare chest and his relaxed face, Shanks was forced to recognize his mistake. The dark circles, tight jaw, and dull eyes had made him forget that Mihawk was only four years older than him.

Shanks was pulled out of his reverie by a sleepy voice, "stop leering at me."

"Am I to blame?" replied the redhead with a little laugh to be caught in the act. He would have laughed more honestly if he was 100% sure that Mihawk was joking, but Shanks wasn't sure about anything these days and he didn't want to risk upsetting his husband - again.

"Yes," Mihawk said before half-opening one eye, stretching like an adorable kitten, and hiding his yawn behind his hand, "creepie."

Shanks smiled softly to hide his disappointment because he knew what was going to happen now that Mihawk had stretched. The oldest didn't like to waste his time in bed so he would inevitably get up and go about his business: making breakfast, cleaning the house, and going to work. And Shanks will have nothing to do but feel guilty because he would have nothing to do. Maybe he could do something with the kids today?

His disappointment grew when, as expected, Mihawk got up and rubbed the fatigue from his eyes with his hand.

Except, instead of turning to the edge of the bed to leave, Mihawk collapsed lifelessly against Shanks' chest. The unexpected hug made the youngest jump in surprise, but he hid it behind a laugh, "well, sleeping beauty, do you have a little problem?"

In response, Shanks received a tired grunt. Then, Mihawk settled himself properly on the redhead's chest, his arm draped over his chest in a strangely possessive gesture and he intertwined their legs. In this position, Shanks could not get up without the elder's permission, not that he wanted to leave. He chuckled when a pointy nose nuzzled his neck and placed his hand on the hollow of Mihawk's hip without waiting for permission.

Mihawk sighed contently and the tension magically disappeared from his limbs, becoming jelly in Shanks' arm. Instead of worrying about the unusual behavior, the redhead took advantage of it. He relaxed too, his fingers tracing patterns on the soft skin, and his smile was almost competing against the sun by its brightness.

He expected Mihawk to have fallen back asleep, but Shanks giggled like a schoolgirl when his sensitive spot was kissed gently.

"Did someone wake up in a teasing mood today?"

"You're a perfect sun protector, so I thank you," Mihawk replied softly, his voice still thick with sleep.

Shanks chuckled at the cute attitude, "I could get up to close the blinds if you want."

"No, stay there," the eldest growled before tightening his grip on Shanks, "if you get out of bed the kids will feel it and bother us."

"You make them sound like monsters."

"They're mini-gremlins," Mihawk confirmed with a seriousness that shouldn't be here at 8:45 a.m, "they don't like to wash, the bigger ones prefer to be on their phones than outside, and they'll eat your fingers if you don't feed them."

Shanks laughed because the description was quite realistic, but he forced himself to calm down when Mihawk motioned for him to stay quiet. So as not to wake the gremlins or wake the elder from his drowsiness, the redhead wouldn't know, but he remained silent.

"Let them sort themselves out," concluded Mihawk after a while.

"You mean: let them starve."

Mihawk shrugged slightly, "same thing."

The conversation ended there as Mihawk easily hid his face from the sun against Shanks' neck. The redhead wouldn't be able to tell if the eldest was actually asleep or not, but decided to cheat. His hand left Mihawk's hip for jet black hair. They were as soft as Shanks remembered, longer perhaps, and smelled of vanilla. His husband's weak point was still the same after a year: the redhead gently scratched the scalp with his nails and he smiled proudly when he heard Mihawk moan.

They stayed like that for a long time, long enough for Shanks to be sure that Mihawk was back to sleep and he stopped. Now the redhead was wondering how to get out of bed without waking the kitten with the big claws that had taken refuge on his chest. After all, he couldn't let the children and Chopper starve.

Except that at the first little movement, the kitten released its claws - metaphorically, of course.

"Who told you to stop?" Mihawk asked, no louder than a whisper but enough for Shanks to hear. He chuckled and resumed his work. They were in Mihawk's office, where a pointed sword was hanging above the bed/couch and Shanks wouldn't risk upsetting the easily grumpy kitten.

"Do you know what we should do?"

Mihawk growled softly to show he was listening and Shanks added, "We feed the gremlins and find a reason, anything, to kick them out of the house."

"...and we change the locks," the swordsman muttered against the redhead's throat.

"No," Shanks laughed, "let's get our bed back and have a movie marathon. I missed some masterpieces while I was gone. I'm sure Luffy has a stash of candy in his room. "

Mihawk thought about the proposition for a few moments, "we can't."

"Yeah, because we're grown-ups," Shanks guessed, not sulking at all. See? He realized it, so he was a big person, take that, Beck.

"No, it's a great idea. Except that if we stuff ourselves with sweets we won't be hungry tonight. Besides, if we kick the boys out of the house, they'll never be back before 5 p.m. for the sake of being annoying. And I have to pick up your tuxedo from the dry cleaners at 2 p.m."

The day's schedule made Shanks frown. His tuxedo? The boys have to be home before 5 p.m.? What the hell was that?

"Have you got anything planned?" he asked, looking down at the sleeping beauty in his arm, who nodded once. "What is this?"

Mihawk yawned heavily before removing his head from the redhead's neck to lean against his shoulder. He had the most terrible smirk on his lips when he said, "I have reserved a table at the Baratie for your return."

Shans pouted at the name of the four star restaurant that Mihawk loved and he hated. Having to put on a tuxedo to eat gourmet meals? Very little for him. First of all, most of the dishes had names that Shanks didn't understand and that Mihawk always ended up explaining to him. And then he was always hungry when he came back. It was nice when it was just the two of them and he could get up during the night to eat discreetly. Except it was going to be hell if Mihawk planned to take the kids there. And unfortunately, Shanks was right...

"I thought a formal dinner would be a good way to formally introduce Uta to the rest of the family. She needs to know what she's getting herself into between your friends and my father."

"They have a table big enough for all of us?" Shanks asked hopefully, because there would be a lot of them and the Baratie wouldn't have as much room. His hope shattered into a thousand pieces when Mihawk admitted to having booked one of the back rooms, "why didn't you book Luigi's?" he complained, "it's friendlier and I haven’t had Italian food in me in years!"

"Because tomato sauce is a pain to clean off white shirts."

"Shirts buttoned all the way up, ties, and jackets…"

"Don't forget waist coats," Mihawk added with a smirk, "except for Luffy. I lost hope with him."

"It's hell," Shanks complained again as he hid his face under a pillow. He planned to hide here for the rest of the day. "What did I do to deserve this?"

"Nothing, I needed an excuse to see you in a suit again."

At this, Shanks lifted his face from the pillow to look at Mihawk's completely serious face. His husband's smile was beyond suffisant and he raised a mocking eyebrow just to enrage the redhead. It worked and Shanks retaliated by pushing the pillow into Mihawk's face, "you could have just asked to put on a costume. I'll do it, for you."

"What a hero," Mihawk scoffed before placing the pillow back on the bed.

"Torturer," Shanks replied although, despite this bad news, he let his husband settle back against him.

The eldest was back in his favorite position when he murmured without the slightest trace of amusement, "excuse me for taking so long to celebrate your return. I would have liked to do it sooner, but the Baratie was full until this evening. And the Skypeia file was more complicated to finish with Ener putting obstacles in my way. He was offended by our hasty departures, at least if his ridiculous flirting was any indication."

"I didn't know about it…," Shanks muttered surprised by Mihawk's thoughtfulness towards him.

While he was sulking that his return had not been celebrated with great fanfare, his dear husband was preparing a surprise party for him. Besides, he had no idea the heavy workload Mihawk was under. Now his rush to return to work made complete sense. Mihawk wasn't trying to leave the house to be near Akainu and away from Shanks, but was trying to finish this case as quickly as possible. If that wasn't enough, he had taken his insecurities on Mihawk because of his misplaced jealousy and this had led the elder not to tell him about Ener's advances.

What an ungrateful idiot he had been ; Shanks felt like a total asshole.

"Why didn’t you tell me about Ener?"

"Because I didn't want you to go back to Skypeia and hit him," Mihawk replied without laughing. He hid his face in Shanks' neck again to hide his blush when he added, "I definitely prefer you here with me."

Shanks smiled softly before wrapping his arm around his husband and pulling him closer to his chest, "I'd rather be with you too, lovebird."

The blush on Mihawk's cheeks deepened at the nickname. It had been a long time since Shanks had called him that and he regretted it so much. His husband deserved to be cherished and not accused of cheating. He was about to apologize again - as if the medallion that had fallen on his chest wasn't enough- when Mihawk added:

"It's good that you think that because you're going to have to put up with me for the next two months: Jinbei has agreed to put me on vacation for the whole month of July rather than the usual three weeks. And I'll ask Doctor Trafalgar for sick leave for August."

This news filled Shanks with joy, but he frowned in realization, "Is that why Beck said he didn't want me at work until September? You leagued him against me."

"We've always been leagued against you," Mihawk corrected with a smile.

"Well, what are the two of us going to do for a month?" Shanks asked seductively before shifting their positions so he was on top of Mihawk, "The boys are going to summer camp and Boa wants to kidnap the girls in August. You'll be all mine."

"Unfortunately," Mihawk replied, although instead of pushing Shanks away, he wrapped his arms around his neck and whispered in his ear, "it's you who will be mine."

Shanks laughed before leaning in to kiss his husband. It was sweet and tender. Their lips moving without any rush as they slowly learned to rediscover each other. The soft lips against his, the warm, willing body beneath his, and the strong hands on him: all sensations Shanks had missed and was excited to experience again. Especially now that he could please Mihawk.

Except that apparently, the stars had joined forces against him. The door opened suddenly enough to bang against the wall and Shanks just had time to jump off of Mihawk when Luffy shouted, "Daaaaaaaads! I'm hungry!"

"We're not awake, Luf'. Come back later," Shanks scoffed as he sat up in bed and retrieved a pillow to put it on his knees. The gesture did not go unnoticed by Mihawk who smirked, but fortunately Luffy did not understand.

"Liar," the boy laughed before jumping into bed and lying down dramatically between his two fathers, "I'm hungry! Ace and Zoro are still sleeping, Sabo is reading, and the girls are terrible! They told me to go somewhere else! I'm going to die...! My stomach is shrinking in on itself, Dads!"

Mihawk frowned seriously before sitting up properly, "let me see," he ordered.

Luffy obeyed before lifting his shirt to show his completely normal stomach.

"Ah yes, I see. It's worrying."

"Dad," Luffy whispered, looking towards Shanks in fear.

Concerned, Shanks turned to Mihawk, unsure if the elder was laughing or not. Except Mihawk's face was still as serious as before, even slightly worried. The frown was quite maddening and Shanks was already imagining having to spend the day in the hospital.

The boy didn't move as Mihawk's slender fingers examined him, trusting that his father would find a solution. Shanks found himself leaning forward to find what Mihawk was seeing. For him, there was nothing wrong and Luffy made fun of them, but Mihawk's worry made him worried.

Against all expectations, Mihawk's fingers moved towards Luffy's ribs and began to tickle the boy. Mihawk was relentless as Luffy giggled and yelped while trying to get away.

"Argh! N-no! D-dad, stop!" Luffy laughed loudly, "Shaaanks, make him st-tooo-p!"

"Ah, sorry, Luf'," Shanks replied, laughing just as loudly, "that's your problem! I don't want to share your fate!"

"Coward! Traitor!" Luffy shouted in retaliation. He almost managed to get out of bed, but Mihawk and his incredible reflexes caught him and he easily held the boy against his chest.

"What did I say about coming in without knocking?"

"That I could because I was your favorite! Shishishishi! Daad!"

Faced with this bad answer, Shanks decided to be in solidarity with his husband and he grabbed the boy's foot, "are you sure, Luffy?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, his fingers near his son's second weak spot.

"It's bad! You said it was bad!" Luffy finally admitted while continuing to laugh.

Satisfied, Mihawk let go of the boy who ran out of bed. In his haste, Luffy almost bumped into the desk, but he dodged it at the last second, and closed the door behind him as he left.

Shanks and Mihawk shared a look before laughing.

"I guess it's time to go," Mihawk sighed before getting off the bed and stretching out in all his half-naked glory.

God if only they could have had five more minutes and Shanks had managed to slip his hand under this stupid boxer….

He swallowed hard, "you go first, I'll join you."

"Hurry up," mocked Mihawk who understood very well what was happening. He took advantage of Shanks's misery, bending down more than necessary to grab his sweatpants so that his ass was on display, and putting on his t-shirt very slowly. It was like a striptease but in reverse and Shanks would have much preferred it to be the other way around and for this damn boxer to disappear. He groaned before collapsing into the bed, earning a chuckle before Mihawk abandoned him.

Shanks came down less than ten minutes later after having sorted out his little problem. At the bottom of the stairs, he was attacked by two hungry kids who demanded breakfast from him and led him -physically- to the kitchen. Ace and Luffy let him go to join the ambient chaos created by their large family; Perona and Zoro were bickering for no apparent reason while Sabo and Uta were laughing together. For his part, Mihawk seemed to be enjoying the chaos as he sipped his coffee, sitting perfectly on one of the stools.

Barely arrived in the kitchen, Shanks was attacked by the children who were starving. They certainly fit Mihawk's description of hungry Gremlins.

"Dad, you’re the one who cooks!" Luffy shouted, sulking slightly from where he was sitting in front of his plate, ready to eat it if necessary.

Shanks chuckled softly, "am I?" He asked looking towards Mihawk who only smiled and lifted his coffee cup in tacit agreement. "Alright, what do you want?"

The pancakes having won unanimously with a volley of excited screams, Shanks retrieved the necessary items from the cupboard and began to cook. He had made pancakes so many times in his life - plain, chocolate or banana - that he didn't need the recipe and could have cooked them with one arm tied behind his back back then. So, Shanks had no trouble preparing the dough amid the jovial chaos that reigned in the kitchen.

"You know, Dad, I tried to make pancakes while you were gone," Luffy informed Shanks, handing his father the ingredients like a perfect assistant.

"Ah, yeah. What happened?"

Luffy only laughed, "nothing!"

"He got distracted by the cartoons and everything burned," Sabo replied as he sipped his coffee-flavored milk since he had convinced Mihawk to split his second cup with him.

Ace woke up from where he had been dozing and added, "he made a hole in the pan."

"It's wrong!" Luffy protested, "They're lying! There was no hole..."

Shanks turned to Mihawk whose opinion would inevitably be neutral and the elder made a small circle with his thumb and index finger. The weary despair on the elder's face made Shanks laugh, "well, no holes this morning. I guarantee it!"

He quickly finished preparing the dough, let sit for a few minutes while the pan got hot, and started cooking the pancakes. Shanks made the mistake of wanting to show off by throwing the pancakes instead of using a spatula to flip them into the pan. Following his little feat, all the children without exception wanted to try and only Sabo and Zoro succeeded perfectly without dropping the pancakes to the ground or breaking them.

"You suck," Mihawk scoffed from where he was watching them amusedly from his seat.

"Then, you try," Zoro challenged, crossing his arms over his chest and receiving a wave of support.

Mihawk rolled his eyes, "your game is childish."

"You say that because you're afraid of losing," Shanks teased to support the kids.

Offended in his honor, Mihawk joined them on the other side of the island and accepted the frying pan that Shanks handed him.

"Tatata, it wouldn't be fair if you used both hands," Shanks pointed out with humor.

Mihawk's gaze promised him a thousand and one pain but, being a good sport, he accepted. Mihawk put his right hand behind his back before flicking his left wrist to make the pancakes fly. He easily retrieved it right in the center of the pan to the cheers of the children. The smile he gave Shanks was beyond smug and the redhead stuck his tongue out in retaliation.

After this little competition, it was finally time to eat. Shanks was in a very good mood as the kids exclaimed how good the pancakes were and the trio pointed out that they had missed them.

"Shanks made this for me almost every morning," Uta boasted proudly to tease the trio, which predictably worked.

"I did," Shanks confirmed with an incredulous chuckle. He was surprised that he was able to unconsciously remember the pancake recipe but not his first name. But he was back home, he reminded himself as he dropped off Mihawk's personalized pancakes in front of the elder.

Mihawk looked at the little vampire face made with berries for the eyes, whipped cream for the fangs, and strawberry coulis for the blood before reprimanding the redhead: "you'll never get tired of it."

"No, never," Shanks confirmed with a loud laugh that came from his very gut.

The morning was the perfect start to a successful day.

Indeed, after the end of breakfast, Ace and Sabo unilaterally decided that Shanks had to catch up on the new MCU films that he had missed during his absence. Except that Uta was completely foreign to the concept and Perona vaguely knew the basics from Zoro, so the boys decided they had to start from scratch. So from the first Iron Man and they were already planning to watch all thirty-two films over the holidays. Shanks wasn't sure if this project would actually happen, but he liked the idea of starting a family tradition that included Uta and her lack of film knowledge. Above all, they would have time during the holidays since Mihawk will be there.

"No regrets?" Shanks whispered into Mihawk's ear from where he was comfortably seated against the elder. He had no concept of vital space as he leaned completely against the firm chest, his legs folded on the couch while Luffy, who had inherited his syndrome, was on the other side of Mihawk.

Mihawk's only response was to tighten his arm around Shanks' shoulders.

They watched the second movie and almost watched the entire trilogy when Uta started humming, making Perona dance. Sabo laughed at them first, which woke Zoro and Ace from their naps - they had practically fallen asleep at the same time - and the situation escalated until the children decided to settle their differences with a dance competition. The video game console was turned on, the remote controls plugged in, and the game 'Just Dance' selected before the natural groups formed again: Uta and Perona; Luffy and Zoro; Sabo and Ace.

Shanks was more than happy to watch them, a laugh occasionally escaping his throat at their antics, and his eyes sparkling with amusement. He had migrated between the first and second film and his head was now on Mihawk's lap who was also invested in the competition. However, Shanks' comfort was flatly ignored when the children commandeered him to play with them. He was ready to refuse when Mihawk gently pushed him off his lap and whispered, "better you than me."

Shanks looked at his husband with feigned indignation before allowing to be pulled by Luffy into the center of the living room. Strangely, for once, the children were more than happy to gang up on him and they danced on group songs so almost everyone could play. Shanks had no remorse in proving to them that he was already playing this game when Perona was barely two years old. His multiple victories eventually proved his superiority and Shanks intended to take refuge on the sofa so as not to admit that he was exhausted when a song caught his eye.

A wide smirk appeared on Shanks's face before he went to the couch only to grab Mihawk's hand, "can I have this dance?"

Mihawk looked at the song displayed on the screen, exhaled an amused breath, and agreed to make a fool of himself for a dance.

"You take the girl," Mihawk warned, attaching the controller on his wrist.

Shanks rolled his eyes in amusement, but agreed. He didn't care what gender the character was portrayed on screen as long as Mihawk was dancing and having fun with them. Plus, it wouldn't be the first time Mihawk gave in to playing Just Dance with Shanks only to refuse to pick the girl in the duets.

So, they were more than ready when "One Thing" by One Direction started since they knew every move and therefore didn't make a fool of themselves; much to the annoyance of Perona, Ace, Zoro, and Sabo who were filming them.

Once the dance competition was over - and won by the married couple -, Mihawk allowed the children to play Mario Bross while Shanks and he took the opportunity to wash up. Then, the lawyer resumed his role as authoritarian parent and ordered that the living room be tidy: from the coffee table pushed against a wall to the blankets lying on the floor and the wrappers of sweets or cakes. Once that was done, it was time to get ready for the surprise party Mihawk had planned. The boys washed one by one in the downstairs bathroom while the girls commandeered the upstairs one to wash, dress and put on makeup.

Looking at his reflection in the office's mirror, Shanks had to admit that Mihawk had a certain taste in fashion. The pine green tuxedo over a white shirt had been chosen to accentuate the flamboyant highlights of his hair. So his shoulder-length red hair seemed to be on fire in comparison to the dark color of green. Besides, Shanks must have been quite lucky since he had escaped the tie if not the waistcoat, and the white shirt was wide open on his muscular and tanned chest.

Above all, Shanks now found his doubts about his physique illusory and stupid. The suit had literally been tailor-made since the shirt and jacket had been sewn exactly where his stump ended. So his handicap was not underlined by an empty sleeve, but sublimated and put to his advantage. Shanks had to admit that even the scars on his face worked in his favor.

"How do I look?" he still asked Mihawk who was finishing dressing on the other side of the desk. Mihawk looked up from the portable mirror he was using to make sure his mustache and beard were perfectly trimmed and Shanks raised his arm to show himself.

Mihawk looked him up and down, his golden eyes filling with lust, and his lips twisting into a smirk, "decent."

"Only this?" Shanks pouted, approaching Mihawk as if the elder's distance vision was defective.

"Your ankles would swell so much they would rip your pants if I told you what I was thinking."

A proud smile appeared on Shanks' face, so much so that his eyes narrowed and his cheeks hurt, "you don't look bad either," he admitted, inspecting Mihawk's own navy blue suit. The eldest looked divine as usual even though he was wearing one of his work suits. And Shanks felt his possessiveness calm down as he noticed the forest green color of the tie Mihawk was wearing. "I don’t have a tie?"

"No," Mihawk confirmed, "I much prefer your wild side."

Shanks' relief didn't last as they had to check that each child, especially the boys, were ready and dressed for the evening at the restaurant. It wasn't an easy task since only Sabo knew how to tie his tie and Luffy wanted to eat a chocolate bar before leaving.

The couple still managed to cram Perona, Uta, Sabo, Ace and Zoro into the same car which left first. For their part, Shanks and Mihawk's own departure was delayed by Luffy who declared he had forgotten something, jumped out of the car, disappeared for five long minutes, and returned with a straw hat on his head. Shanks smiled when he noticed that it was his old hat and listened as Luffy explained how it had become his.

Shanks was so distracted by Luffy's ramblings that he didn't immediately notice that Mihawk had taken the wrong way. The Baratie was located on the bay near Shanks' business, but Mihawk was driving in the opposite direction. Shanks frowned when he finally noticed that his husband was taking detours and the car was almost going in circles.

"You are lost?" he teased, playing with the air conditioning buttons because he was hot in his shirt and jacket.

"No," was the terse response before Mihawk slapped Shanks' fingers, "stop messing with the buttons."

And then, the car finally headed towards a specific point which was on the outskirts of the city. If Shanks was right, this part of town was just fields, barns, and villages. The redhead was more than right since Mihawk parked at the back of a small town hall.

"Is this the place where you cut me into small pieces?" Shanks asked suspiciously, looking at the small, somewhat dilapidated town hall. The place made him feel cold because there was no light and the environment was strangely silent as if there was no living soul in this village.

It was certainly not the fish-shaped boat of the Baratie.

MIhawk remained as impassive as ever as he replied, "I'm not going to get my tuxedo dirty. Come on, hurry up."

Shanks nodded and he grabbed Luffy's hand to encourage the boy to follow them instead of running down the empty street. They walked behind Mihawk who was leading the way, seeming to know where he was going. The eldest opened the door to the town hall with a key he retrieved from his pocket and the trio entered the empty entrance hall. It was almost 7 p.m. and all the town hall employees had already left except for the two housekeepers whom Shanks greeted politely.

They walked down a long hallway that led to many doors but they directly went to the last one. Shanks frowned when he read "party room" on the orange door sign. However, he didn't have time to understand the implication as Mihawk opened the door with the same key and let Shanks and Luffy enter first.

At first, Shanks only encountered a dark, empty space eerily silent, as if it were false and preceded by a threat.

Mihawk joined them, closing the door behind him. The noise resonated throughout the space and in the heart of Shanks who felt a bad feeling arise within him. He was just laughing about the slaughterhouse and Mihawk cutting him into pieces...

Except then Mihawk flipped the switch and Shanks was attacked by a loud, "surprise!"

He blinked as he saw the tables filled with food, the homemade banners wishing him a happy return home, and most importantly, all of his friends and family gathered in one place. Shanks greeted each of them warmly: his brother, Buggy, and his circus friends; his best friends and his other colleagues in the company; his old college friends; and even some cousins were there. They were all there, all gathered under the aegis of Mihawk or Beck to surprise him. There were even some of Mihawk's colleagues gathered in a corner: Jinbei, Crocodile and Doflamingo. And Luigi, the Italian restaurateur that Shanks adored, was there rather than Zeff du Baratie.

"What happened to the tomato sauce?" Shanks asked towards Mihawk who was still behind him so as not to suffer the full brunt of the crowd who had come to greet them.

The elder sipped from the glass of wine that had magically appeared in his hand before admitting, "You are worth this sacrifice."

"I feel honored," Shanks laughed but it quickly died in his throat as he noticed Rayleigh walking towards them, a glass of whiskey in his hand and a murderous glint in his eyes, "you told him about…you know?"

Rayleigh's response in the form of a punch to Shank's right shoulder was quicker than Mihawk's. The blow was so violent that Shanks jumped up and down and groaned painfully. The pain spread throughout his body but he couldn't soothe it without a second arm.

When Shanks had almost recovered from the punch, someone slapped the back of his head. The slap at least had the merit of being less forceful, but the gesture still made Shanks sulk. However, he didn't dare to complain when he noticed that it was his mother-in-law who had snuck up behind him.

"Don't ever insult our son again," Shakky warned with a look even deadlier than Rayleigh's; she nevertheless smiled when she greeted Mihawk with a kiss on the cheek.

"I already apologized…," Shanks complained, sulking slightly; his childish side returning in the presence of his two remaining parental figures. His pout deepened when Mihawk chuckled behind his hand when Rayleigh and Shakky shrugged. Mihawk's laughter rose a notch when Boa joined them and Shanks, by instinct, flinched and put himself in a defensive position even if it happened to be unnecessary.

In revenge, Shanks waited until Mihawk was drinking before pushing the stem of the glass with his finger. It was his turn to laugh when the lawyer choked from the excess liquid in his mouth, but he had the presence to run away before Mihawk came to his senses.

Shanks was called upon from all sides between the infernal trio who were planning mischieves with Zoro, Yasopp and the other kids, the guests who each wanted to have a conversation with him, and the buffet who called to him like a siren would hypnotize a sailor to drown him.

Nonetheless, he had the time of his life. Shanks wasn't going to lie: he was an extrovert who loved being the center of attention, and right here, he was the star of the party. Everyone wanted to talk to him or give him a welcome home gift or even have a dance with him. The mood was good-natured and fun, conversations were going well, and the dance floor was always busy.

Although he loved the crowds, Shanks managed to extricate himself from it to breathe and eat a well-deserved slice of lasagna. He couldn't even describe the taste of lasagna on his tongue because it was so divine - an opinion he shared with Luigi, who was too accustomed to the redhead's compliments. Each ingredient had been chosen to perfection and each layer of cream, pasta and meat blended together to create perfect harmony.

His group of friends quickly reformed with Beck and Yasopp who had left their girlfriends talking together, Lucky who had never left the buffet of the evening, and Hongo who was upset that Limejuice was too busy managing the music to pay him attention. Obviously with his friends, the teasing soon accompanied the alcohol and Hongo and Beck were Shanks' main victims; one because he was sulking, the other because he was going to be a father and could therefore join his and Yasopp's restricted group.

Except that by dint of teasing, it was Shanks who was the one to be mocked.

"You have tomato sauce on your shirt," Yasopp warned, his tone serious enough to be convincing.

Shanks instinctively put down his fork and grabbed a napkin to clean his suit before a 'shit' could even come out of his mouth. It didn't matter how hard Shanks tried in the end because the stain would never be removed since it didn't exist.

"Don’t laugh at that!" Shanks complained loudly to the laughter of his friends, "Hawky will get my head if I get dirty!"

"Oh, stop your charm, boss. We all know Hawkeyes likes your head too much to cut it off," Lucky taunted as his mouth was full of chicken.

A new wave of laughter made Shanks sulk for the second time that evening.

Annoyed by his friends laughing at his expense, Shanks looked for an escape. He found one in Limejuice who was handling the music with his computer and a great idea popped into his head. Shanks decided not to waste time putting it into practice. So he left his friends, who were still laughing at him, to join the tall blond, asked him for a favor, and searched through an endless list of love songs until he found the right one.

Shanks knew he was already lucky that Mihawk had agreed to dance with him in front of the children this morning, but decided to push his lucky star a little further.

He then went looking for his husband, who he found in the company of his father near the back door of the room - the one through which they had entered earlier. The two were in the middle of a heated discussion and Shanks preferred to stay in the background. Firstly not to interrupt them but also to listen discreetly.

"You have to stop him," Mihawk ordered with a hand gesture that showed all of his exasperation and anger.

"I don't have that kind of power over him," Rayleigh replied more gently to calm his son and keep their conversation discreet. "Besides, it’s already too late: he doesn’t answer the phone anymore."

Mihawk growled something that sounded like an insult.

Rayleigh exhaled sympathetically before putting his hand on the lawyer's shoulder, "you know he's right and it's the best thing to do. You already have waited too…"

"The best thing?" The youngest repeated acerbically and added ironically, "here? Now?"

"It's not the best context, I agree, but you looked for it. He warned you all week and you put off the inevitable for too long."

Knowing Mihawk, his husband had just glared at his father. Except, Rayleigh's blue eyes didn't twinkle and he returned the death glare to the younger man. He squeezed Mihawk's shoulder gently as they collapsed in defeat.

When he spoke again, Mihawk sounded strangely defeated, "I don't want the kids to see this."

"I'll suggest they go hide and seek in the town hall. My friend will be mad at me but at least...," Rayleigh cut himself off when he finally noticed Shanks listening to them. Caught with his hand in the cookie jar and his mouth full, Shanks blushed and managed only a small, tight smile. "What do you want, son?"

"Um... well," Shanks began eloquently as he would have very-much liked to be included in the conversation and understand what it was about. He swallowed a little when Mihawk turned and golden eyes landed on him. But Mihawk didn't scold him for eavesdropping and Shanks admitted: "I came to steal you, love. The next song is for us."

Mihawk shared one last look with Rayleigh before accepting Shanks' hand. He could feel the tension in the lawyer's hand and the rest of his body as he led them toward the center of the room and the makeshift dance floor. But the tension did not seem to be aimed at Shanks as Mihawk squeezed his hand when he felt the reddish gaze filled with concern directed towards him.

They got into position as the first notes of music resonated in the room l; their hands still clasped and Mihawk's second on Shanks' hip; and they danced gently under the curious gaze of their friends and families.

"A drop in the ocean

A change in the weather

I was praying that you and I might end up together"

"Are you alright, love?" Shanks asked, noticing from Mihawk's frown that he wasn't really there with him.

Mihawk seemed to snap out of his dark thoughts as his eyes focused on Shanks's and he responded with another question: "Do you trust me?"

"Yes, with all my heart," Shanks replied without hesitation after this incredible day which was only the result of a conversation between two adults who deeply loved each other. He trusted Mihawk in every aspect of his life and he would jump off a bridge blindly if the elder asked him to.

Mihawk smiled slightly and his hand tightened on the redhead's waist, "good, because you're going to have to draw on that trust for the next few days."

"For what?"

"I'll have to leave," Mihawk admitted sadly.

"No," Shanks refused, tightening his grip on Mihawk's hand as if that might stop him from leaving, "not when we've just found each other."

Mihawk broke their dancing position to cup the redhead's cheeks and comfort him with his gestures while his words destroyed the redhead more and more: "we have no choice," his husband whispered desperately, "I'm putting our whole family in danger by staying and I-I don’t want to hurt you again. My comfort cannot be more important than your safety."

Shanks felt his own desperation growing as a kiss was placed on his forehead; it seemed too definitive to be appreciated. He briefly wondered what they looked like from an outside perspective. Of a happy couple who took advantage of a dance to whisper sweet words to each other? Or could their guests see the desperation in their faces? The way Shanks' hand clung to Mihawk's jacket like a child afraid of being abandoned?

"Still I can't let you be,

Most nights I hardly sleep.

Don't take what you don't need from me."

Outside, blue and red lights illuminated the darkness of the night and disrupted the cozy atmosphere of the party. The disturbance increased when police officers entered with Smoker at their head. He gave orders to his officers before heading towards the husbands.

"Talk to Rayleigh," Mihawk ordered with growing desperation, "he'll tell you everything, I swear."

"What is going on?" had just time to ask Shanks incomprehensibly before Smoker came towards them.

The detective whispered something sounding like a "I had warned you," before handcuffing the hands that Mihawk was already holding behind him in a gesture of submission.

"Trust me," Mihawk called back as Smoker's large hand grabbed his bicep to pull him away from Shanks.

It was only upon seeing that Mihawk was not the only one arrested that Shanks reacted. He ignored the curious looks from his friends and family, not caring about causing a scene while Mihawk was arrested for unknown reasons.

"You have no right to arrest him without charge!" he said angrily to Smoker's impassive face.

"Mihawk Silvers-Gold is accused of attempted murder of you, Mr. Gold, entering a private property, and sabotage," Smoker replied flatly before adding to Mihawk: "anything you say can and will be held against you, but you already knew that, didn’t you?"

Smoker ordered his officers to lock Mihawk and his accomplices - Crocodile, Boa, and Doflamingo - in the cars and watch out for their behaviors while Shanks and the guests watched in disbelief.

Shanks couldn't move even if he wanted, his heart racing and his eyes wide as his husband disappeared behind the closed doors.

Mihawk was accused of... killing him? Or tried to, at least. How was this possible? Mihawk wouldn't have… he wouldn't have… he couldn't be the saboteur of the Red Force; his assassin.

Because it was Mihawk who saved him, thought Shanks as a violent headache spread throughout his head. He couldn't think straight because too many images flashed through his mind: the mysterious key of 14, the storm, the shipwreck, a year of not knowing who he was, and being reunited with his family.

All of this couldn't have been caused by one person, right?

Desperate, Shanks looked around for a familiar, comforting face, only to find Rayleigh speaking with Beck of all people. They spoke in low voices so that no one would hear them in the silence. Tired of the gossip going on behind his back, Shanks looked around the room again but Rayleigh had kept his promise and his children - Perona, Uta, Ace, Sabo, Luffy, and Zoro - were not there

And then, something clicked in his mind.

The children weren't there because Rayleigh had been warned by this mysterious 'he'' and he had passed the information on to Mihawk. Father and son knew the police were coming, weren't they? But Mihawk had chosen to stay and spend his last moments with Shanks to try to explain to him. Shanks wasn't sure he understood everything, but Mihawk had asked him to trust him and the redhead would stick to that.

Looking back up at his stepfather and best friend, Shanks knew it wasn't entirely his fault if he couldn't understand everything.

Mihawk, Rayleigh and Beck had all three kept him in the shadows since his return from Skypeia while something rather serious was going on behind the scenes.

And Shanks was heartbroken because all three of them knew and didn't tell him.

How was he supposed to protect his family, Mihawk in particular, if he was kept in the dark? Clear,ly he couldn't...

"Red, it's crazy what happened...," Buggy began to comfort his brother, but the hand he placed on the redhead's shoulder was enough to get him out of the existential crisis that had only lasted a few seconds.

Shanks ran outside to catch up with the procession and order that the situation be clarified and that evidence incriminating Mihawk be shown to him, but it was already too late: the police cars had already left.

Inside, the song ended as the chatter resumed and Shanks didn't have the strength to go back inside now, so he sat on the cold step of the stairs and waited a long time for his heart to stop beating so hard.

"It's like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert,

But I'm holding you closer than most,

'Cause you are my heaven."

Chapter Text

Chapter 17. Murphy's law : Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.

After spending the worst night of his life it was obvious that the next morning continued in this vein. Shanks abruptly came out of his sleep state without any transition. He gasped for air, his eyes wide open, and already half-sitting in bed. Shanks had just had a horrible nightmare where Mihawk broke up with him and admitted to trying to kill him to get his happy ending with Akainu.

He inhaled and exhaled loudly to force himself to chase away the vivid vision of his husband walking off into the setting sun with Akainu holding him close. Well, breathing in and out clearly wasn't working, especially when the ruddy gaze fell on the empty, unused side of the bed. Mihawk should have been there with him, but he wasn't because he was accused of murder.

At least the fierce pain in the rest of his left arm was enough to chase those thoughts from his head. Shanks groaned in pain and he was very attentive to his every movement as he lay back in the bed on his right side so the springs wouldn't make his pain worse. His stump was the epicenter of the pain, it beat fiercely like a second heart locked in his flesh and muscles. Doctor Trafalgar had called this phenomenon "the phantom limb" which was completely stupid because his pain was not a ghost, it was very, very real.

Shanks tried to soothe the pain by massaging the scarred area but quickly gave up when the intensity increased instead of decreasing. He then got out of bed and out of the desk, knocked on the door of his old room, entered when he was assured that the girls were not inside, and locked himself in the bathroom. Shanks opened the cupboards in the cabinet, ignoring the many makeup products that weren't there before, until finding the drawer reserved for Mihawk; it was the only one perfectly tidy. Well, until Shanks made a mess of it by pushing shaving cream, cologne, and skin care creams. He didn't know exactly what he was looking for until he came across a different cream than the others: to ease healing and soothe itching.

Exactly what he needed!

Shanks mentally thanked Mihawk for his foresight, first thinking that the elder had bought him a cream after their visit to Doctor Trafalgar, before realizing that it was already open and half empty. Mihawk used it for his own use, didn't he?

The strange news did not faze Shanks for long as his left arm sharply called him to order, enough to make him shiver. So Shanks practically emptied the rest of the tube into his hand and applied the cream to the scarred skin. He massaged his arm again to spread the white cream that smelled of honey and decided it was truly miraculous when the pain began to fade. The pain was still there, but it was much more manageable now that Shanks no longer felt like a harissa-covered arrow was stuck in his stump.

So, freed from his pain, Shanks picked up his phone and dialed Rayleigh's number, but went straight to the answering machine. Shanks sighed before putting the device in his pocket; he would try again later, he promised himself before going downstairs.

Later came about twenty minutes later, then about fifteen minutes, twenty-five minutes, and again, and again, until the children finally came down. It had been difficult to find a good excuse for Mihawk's absence. The older ones - Perona, Sabo, and Ace - suspected something while Luffy was, well, Luffy. He trusted Shanks' lie which was both valuable and dangerous. Beck had tried to help him, but, for once, Shanks had pushed him away because all he wanted from his best friend was the truth, the truth his friend wasn't ready to give yet.

So after hitting Rayleigh's voicemail for the twelfth time, and Shakky's three times, and his messages being ignored, Shanks decided to call his brother for help. The children had helped to occupy his mind for a few minutes, just the time to feed them before Zoro, Luffy , Uta and Chopper went outside to play. Buggy would be useful to distract the attention of the three elders who were looking at him for answers that Shanks didn't even have.

Ace was the first to leave after Buggy started telling a story about the circus, he grabbed his skateboard and said he would be home for supper. Then it was Perona and Sabo's turn and Shanks found himself alone with his brother for the first time in a long time.

They hadn't been together since before he left because of their respective jobs, which didn't mean they were estranged, they just had other responsibilities.

No, it was during the three years after Rouge's death that the two brothers had been estranged, each lost in their own grievance and pain. Buggy had been hurt that Shanks had someone to rely on while he had no one. Unfortunately, the redhead hadn't been in the right state of mind to realize this. Plus, it didn't help that Roger had left his business to the redhead. Well, they should have done fifty-fifty, but Shanks had made Beck buy the second part because his best friend had been Roger's apprentice and Buggy didn't know anything about the sea. These two reasons had pushed Buggy to be jealous and resentful and they had only reconciled when Shanks had warned his brother that he was adopting Ace as his son. After all, Buggy was, technically speaking, as much Ace's brother as Shanks.

Shanks then let his brother talk to him about the cities he had visited during his tour to distract himself from his problems and from Rayleigh who was not responding. Every story was told to glorify Buggy's strength, selflessness, and strength and Shanks was far from fooled, but he only wished the best for his brother. Plus, Buggy spoke with so much joy and pride that the redhead loved listening to him.

Buggy was actually in the middle of a pretty gripping story about the day the lion got out of his cage and they had to run after him for hours to catch him when the front door opened. Shanks remained seated on the couch, assuming it was Ace who had returned but the reality was quite different.

"You’re finally here!" he exclaimed as he saw Rayleigh walk into the living room like he owned the place. Shanks had started to stand but was dissuaded from moving further by the dark look on the old man's face. He seemed quite concerned and, worse, that he had quite aging in the space of one night.

"Sorry to take care of my kids first," Rayleigh replied wryly before sitting down tiredly in the last available armchair.

"How are they?" Shanks asked, guessing who his father-in-law was referring to.

Rayleigh shrugged a little and replied tersely, "fine."

Shanks looked towards his brother who was sitting in the second armchair, but he shrugged his shoulders too. Neither brother had ever seen Rayleigh be so cold to anyone, especially not them. Feeling the discomfort threatening to kill him on the spot, Shanks found the excuse of serving Rayleigh a drink to escape the heavy atmosphere of the living room for a few seconds.

He practiced breathing to calm his tense nerves and force his hand to stop shaking, then he returned to the living room with the nagging feeling that he was going to get yelled at stuck in his gut.

For good reason, Shanks was right.

"Tell me, did I keep the promise I made to Rouge by taking care of you two?" Rayleigh asked enigmatically, swirling the whiskey in his glass. The reflection of his glasses and his pinched expression made him look like a villain in the movies.

The two brothers shared another look filled with incomprehension before nodding at the same time.

"I've always been aware that I could never replace your parents, but in many ways, I've always considered you my sons. So tell me," Ray added darkly, looking at them in turn, "why will you ever feel justified in hurting my son. Mihawk is my flesh and my blood and I have had difficulty showing it in the past, but I care about him and would do anything to keep him safe. "

"You're a good…," Shanks began to comfort his father-in-law but was cut off when Rayleigh pointed at him.

"You!"

Shanks swallowed hard and his eyes widened as stormy blue eyes fell on him. He was speechless at the implication that he had hurt Mihawk. Which, in a sense, was unfortunately true.

"I had doubts about your union the second you told me, not because I would have wanted another husband for my son, but because you were too young. Yet, I was wrong. You were good for Mihawk: the children, the house, the cars, the jobs, everything to make you happy. I was sure that everything would be fine for you now that you're back so you can't imagine my shock when I had to comfort my son because you called him a whore."

"I didn’t do it on purpose!" Shanks protested because his old self really hadn't wanted to turn his sentence like that and imply that Mihawk was a whore. He had only realized it when the eldest himself had told him and he had already apologized to the principal concerned. That was the most important thing, right?

"Well, I'm relieved to hear that you didn't make Mihawk vulnerable on purpose," Rayleigh mocked, crossing his arms over his chest to make himself appear more threatening. Despite the vibrant anger evident in his voice, the old man spoke slowly and casually enough that Shanks felt worse and worse. "You succeeded in a few sentences where others failed in a year by making Mihawk cry."

"What? When?" Shanks asked eagerly as he was completely unaware that Mihawk had cried after their interaction.

"He almost collapsed after I asked him what was wrong with him and asked me : 'why can't I do anything right?'. What was I supposed to say to that?"

Shanks swallowed again and felt like an iron bar was stuck in his throat. He had already felt like an asshole yesterday when he found out that Mihawk was throwing a party behind his back, but that was nothing compared to how he felt now. Above all, he was sure his apology wasn't enough.

"I-I was full of insecurities," he explained desperately for Rayleigh to understand, "Mihawk had pushed me away twice that day, but accepted Akainu's touch. S-so I-I thought my new look was pushing him away or-or that he had fallen in love with someone else in my absence. I didn't know how to take my place back, I thought I was useless and it was killing me!

However, instead of understanding, Shanks' plea only further enraged Rayleigh who stood up and shouted back, "Your place was never yours to take back! It was always there waiting for you to return thanks to Mihawk. He kept the lighthouse and don't even ask me what that means, but he managed the work of two alone and did so without feeling justified in receiving help. You thought your family had a good time while you were gone?" asked Rayleigh, laughing in derision.

The old man didn't wait for a response before giving the answers Shanks had been waiting days : "Do you think life without you was simple? Your boys were wrecks the first few days. They cried all the time, refused to go to school, and were terrified to take their eyes off Mihawk in case he disappeared too. He accompanied them day after day to the bay where they stayed for hours because the trio was convinced that you would come back soon. Luffy even threw a bottle into the sea, certain that it would reach you. If you think that's the worst that Mihawk has managed then you're wrong: one evening, Luffy wished that it was Mihawk who had disappeared rather than you."

Shanks' reddish eyes widened in surprise and he wished it wasn't true, not after seeing Luffy being so attached to Mihawk's side. But he also knew that Luffy was his spitting image and that he had always had a preference for him; just like Sabo preferred Mihawk for his calm and literary side. The couple had never been bothered by it, thinking it was normal behavior and the most important thing was that they didn't make a difference.

"And you think Mihawk was better off without you?" Rayleigh added, still standing, still accusing Shanks of leaving a year ago instead of being man enough to stay with them. Perhaps Roger, a sailor at heart, would have understood, but not Rayleigh, not when he followed Hinata to Shin Sekai because she was pregnant with Mihawk. To Rayleigh there was nothing more sacred than family, even the ocean paled in comparison.

"No," Shanks whispered because he understood, or at least he thought he understood.

"He stopped sleeping, eating, and even living," Rayleigh explained anyway. "It was like he was holding his breath for this last year waiting for a man that might never come back."

"Then why did he push me away?" asked the redhead, on the verge of despair.

"What do you think would be the only reason why Mihawk would push you away?" replied Rayleigh with defeatism.

It took Shanks barely two seconds to decide to put Akainu aside, to no longer take him into account as a factor but as an insignificant detail as Mihawk had suggested. So what was left? Mihawk who was never naked in his presence since he always wore boxers much to Shanks' frustration; those two times when Mihawk had pushed him away not because he wasn't interested, but because he didn't want to be naked; and how Mihawk had panicked when the redhead's fingers had brushed his boxers.

Mostly, Shanks thought about this morning and the half-empty healing cream he had used to soothe the pain.

"He broke his promise…," Shanks finally guessed and it cost him a lot to force the words out of his mouth, "He's cutting himself again."

It cost him because Shanks hadn't seen anything and, worse, he hadn't even considered the possibility until then. The redhead had always considered that the problem came from him - from his scar, from his stump, from his memory loss which could have made him different - without ever thinking that the problem came from Mihawk. Because, for him, Mihawk was perfect and kept his promises, always. To never again press a blade to his skin to see the blood flow on purpose was a promise that Mihawk had made…. only if Shanks always stayed by his side, which he didn't.

"Shit," he cursed, pushing his hair out of his eyes because it was suddenly annoying him. Everything about him irritated him.

"I don't have proof," Rayleigh admitted more defeated than ever, "and I tried to keep an eye on him, but… I didn't see the signs the first time, so why would I now?"

"It's not your fault, it's mine," Shanks reassured as he fought to force the tears out of his eyes; crying wouldn't solve anything. On the other hand, holding Mihawk and promising him he wouldn't be mad about the new cuts was something Shanks desperately wanted to do. Soon, he hoped.

Rayleigh nodded and his anger at Shanks seemed to have calmed down. The one against Buggy, however, still seemed as sharp as the old man turned to the clown in the room, "You!"

"Me?" Buggy repeated, surprised to suddenly be involved in this fight. He even spit some of the liquid into his mouth and abruptly placed the glass on the coffee table, "why me?"

"Don't think I ever forgave what you did because I never said anything to you," Rayleigh accused as he advanced towards Buggy, his anger seemed even more acute now that it was directed towards the clown. "Tell your brother what you did!"

Shanks looked towards Buggy with a frown because he didn't understand what his brother had to say to him. Buggy didn't seem to know either as he stammered, "w-what did I-I do?"

"Don’t play smart with me, tell him!"

Buggy shivered in fear, "Uh…I…uh…well…"

"Bugs?" Shanks asked with equal parts curiosity and fear.

With Buggy still unable to answer, Rayleigh spoke for him: "at the beginning of your... disappearance, your brother pestered Mihawk to receive your inheritance money..."

"...you agreed!" Buggy argued loudly as he stood up to face Rayleigh although his pleading gaze was fixed on Shanks, "...I only wanted the best for my nephews, I swear! I thought it would be easier for them to turn the page if... if..."

"If we buried you," Rayleigh finished wearily, "but Mihawk refused. He's the only reason your name isn't on a headstone. "

"W-what?" Shanks asked as dread gripped his heart, "you wish I was dead?"

He spoke with a small voice filled with sadness because his forced departure had already been painful enough and a tombstone would have finished him completely. Buggy wanted to leave him behind? Throw him in the trash like an old sock with holes?

"No! I just wanted your money," Buggy admitted before putting his hand over his mouth upon hearing what he had just said. He ended up removing it to add: "I needed funds for the tour and I thought it wouldn't have been a big deal if I used your insurance. The money could have benefited the boys too..."

"Except Mihawk refused again," Rayleigh continued to explain, "and Buggy made the wise decision to pay two men to drug and beat him up."

"...No!" Buggy denied even more fiercely.

In two long strides, Rayleigh was on Buggy and the old man released the hatred he had kept inside him for months for Mihawk's sake. He grabbed the clown by the collar of his green t-shirt and pushed him against the nearest wall. "They would have raped my son if his colleagues had not been there!"

"It's impossible," Shanks murmured, imagining his husband, alone, injured and drugged, in the hands of two men because of his own brother. He stood up on shaky legs to join Buggy and Rayleigh, "tell me it's wrong..."

Rayleigh shook his head and his hands tightened on Buggy's shirt, otherwise, he didn't answer; his eyes even more shadowy than the ocean in a storm.

"It was not me!" Buggy promised as he tried to free himself, but failed. Then he repeated: "It wasn't me! Mihawk came to my house one day," he explained quickly, "and he accused me of doing something. I don't even know what! But he offered me a check if I left town...so...so I accepted because I needed the money and because he terrifies me. I'm too afraid of Hawkeyes to hurt him! I swear!"

"It wasn’t you?" Rayleigh asked in disbelief, his hands releasing their grip.

"No, I swear! I don't know anything at all!"

Rayleigh jumped back as if he'd been hit and cursed under his breath.

"What does it mean?" Shanks asked desperately because he needed an answer and the one who was supposed to provide it now looked as lost as he did.

"That means we're back to square one again," a new voice that hadn't been there before sounded.

Shanks felt a new wave of anger pass through him when he saw Smoker in his living room. So the police officers didn't know that it was illegal to enter people's homes without being invited?

"What are you doing here?" he barked, letting his feelings take over.

His anger made Buggy tremble in fear, "Red, stop, he's a police officer..."

"Fuck him!" Smoker coughed to show he was still there and Shanks turned to him before saying again, "Fuck you!"

Shanks was about to close the space between him and the officer to put his words into action, but a large hand fell on his shoulder, "he's one of us."

"Ours?" Shanks repeated, looking towards Rayleigh, "he arrested your children! My husband! How is he supposed to be on our side?"

"Can you order him to stop barking?" Smoker asked sarcastically before walking further into the living room.

Rayleigh argued that tickling Shanks' nerves wouldn't help before motioning for the two brothers to calm down. The three of them sat down on the couch where Rayleigh removed the spy microphone he had hidden in his shirt pocket. The old man finally drank his glass of Whiskey before asking to Smoker, "perhaps it would be better to start at the beginning?"

"Hmh, Garp himself commissioned me to investigate your disappearance," Smoker began after turning away from the photos that adorned the chimney post, "he thought I would be the most qualified to find you and tell Hawkeyes the news. However, your saboteur is more qualified than me and I have never found his trail. Even now, he is still hiding as well."

"So you have nothing," Shanks summed up, grumpy, and received a nudge in the ribs to encourage him to remain silent.

Smoker pretended not to have heard anything and added: "At the end of December, it was your husband who came to me with a completely different problem. He had received a photo of himself and wanted this matter to be resolved quickly before it got worse. Except that, if I'm here, it's because the situation has gotten worse. What was one photo has become a fucking photo album without this stalker taking a single step wrong..."

"A stalker?" Shanks cut in, looking towards his father-in-law who nodded.

"Someone has been having fun following Mihawk and taking pictures of him from multiple angles since you left. At first, we thought it was a clumsy secret admirer. And now we thought it was Buggy."

"Why me?" asked the clown sadly.

"Sorry, kid… it would have been so much better if it was you who was stalking Mihawk from the start to keep getting money because then… then he wouldn't have really been in danger. I know you're not a killer. But if it wasn't you who paid these guys then..."

"...So it was the stalker," Shanks understood with fear.

Smoker nodded since they had all come to the same conclusion, "that's not all. Your husband has a theory that he shared with me before leaving for Skypeia. According to him, his stalker would have first tried to kill you so he could indulge in his vices afterward."

What had Mihawk told him already? Oh, yes: "I don't want to hurt you again." So that was what Mihawk was referring to? Mihawk believed it was his fault that a creepy stalker had taken a liking to him enough to try to kill Shanks?

He almost threw up what little he had eaten when the thought hit him even harder than Ray's punch yesterday. His poor husband had suffered so long in silence, taking blow after blow without ever complaining, but instead of comforting him, Shanks had done the opposite even.

"The stalker had become quite quiet before your return," Smoker continued without emotion, "and much louder than ever afterward. It seems that your miraculous return has pissed him off and your husband has paid the price. The situation became concerning enough that I decided to place Hawkeyes in the Endangered Witness Services program to remove him from the system and keep him safe. He has been refusing me all week, leaving me with no choice but to force him. I also lied about the reason for his arrest because my team had placed cameras earlier in the day and we are currently analyzing the expressions of each of your guests."

"So Mihawk isn't in prison…," Shanks ventured with misplaced relief if his husband was still in danger.

"No, we've placed him and his friends somewhere safe," Smoker promised before retrieving a thick envelope from inside his pocket and emptying its contents onto the coffee table, "you wanted proof last night so here they are."

Having received permission, Shanks bent down to grab the first blank sheet and his hand shook, tears nearly falling down his cheeks, as he realized what he was looking at. On the printed sheet, six color photos had been compiled. The first showed Mihawk being dominated by two other men in an alley; the second was a photo of him walking out of his office with a little "-hi" written underneath; and then, there were others in more regular spaces, one per week, each with their own little "cute" message.

As promised, there was a big gap in the dates between early May and Shanks' return. Unfortunately, the last three A4 sheets were made up of eight photos rather than six and they were much more violent in their messages.

The first was Shanks and Mihawk's wedding photo. Well, the one where Mihawk convinced him to go to a professional to take pictures of them in fancy suits. Shanks remembered that the photo shoot had taken a whole day because Mihawk was a maniac and he had searched in vain for the perfect photo all day long - Shanks had paid a little extra to thank the photographer for his patience.

Bored and feeling bold because this was supposed to be the last photo of the day, Shanks had gently flipped Mihawk back to kiss him passionately. His left hand was therefore behind Mihawk's back to support him while his second was on a thin hip and Mihawk, far from being disturbed, let go for the first time that day and clung to the redhead's neck with one arm. This photo was perfect from the lush green trees filtering the rays of the setting sun, Shanks' smirk, and the confidence on Mihawk's face.

This photo, which hung at the entrance to the staircase and larger in Shanks' office, represented one of the happiest days of their lives had been used to hurt Mihawk. So, Shanks' face had been crossed out until the polaroid had a hole and a threat was in red at the bottom: "FAGS"

The other polaroids weren't any better: there was the one showing Shanks and Mihawk holding hands as they walked towards the hospital and where it said: Do I have to kill him again?" ; that of the whole family accompanied by Boa at the shopping center, only Mihawk's face had been spared from the scribbles - "Do they need to disappear too? - ; and four shots of Mihawk alone: "You.Are.Mine.Birdie.".

Shanks felt oppressed looking at the photos because the angles of the photos were closer and closer, enough so that the mole under Mihawk's lower lip was clearly visible. He now understood why his husband had been so cold and distant these last two weeks if he had to deal with the return of his stalker alone. And then the threats didn't only concern Shanks and Mihawk, but the children and Boa too so the lawyer must have felt guilty.

That was what the stalker wanted, right? That Mihawk felt alone and threatened like a prey about to be caught. And without knowing it, Shanks had played along.

A phone rang but Shanks didn't hear it over the ringing in his ears. He couldn't hear, understand, or see anything except for his heart beating wildly, his breathing shortening, and his vision blurring.

Mihawk had been fighting alone all week without being able to rely on his husband because Shanks had been an absolute asshole and he thought a necklace would be enough?

"Damn, kid," Rayleigh cursed as he noticed the younger one was having a violent panic attack and starting to hyperventilate, "you need to breathe."

"I can't…," Shanks muttered, feeling like he was drowning again in a raging ocean, "...it-it's my f-fault."

"None of this is your fault," his father-in-law promised, hugging him with one arm across his trembling shoulders.

Shanks shook his head and more tears fell down his cheeks, "H-hawky was in danger a-and he-he didn't tell me anything because I'm not trustworthy...I'm so s-sorry …"

"No, it's not for that reason. Mihawk wanted to give you time to acclimatize to your return before telling you everything. He made us promise not to say anything to tell you himself. Trust has nothing to do with it, Mhawk even admitted that seeing you sleeping in your bed soothed him even when you were in cold terms."

"I-is that true?" Shanks asked in a small voice through his sobs.

"Of course," Rayleigh repeated, gently rubbing Shanks's shoulder to comfort him, "there is no one on this earth that Mihawk trusts more than you. You are his husband and the only friend he recognize. He needs you..."

Rayleigh was about to say something more when Smoker came back into the living room - when had he left? - and he was gripping his phone so hard in his hand that he was threatening to break it: "why is your husband such a pain in the ass?"

"What happened?" Rayleigh asked worriedly.

"It happened that your husband fled the secure apartment, locking his colleagues in a room and beating four of my agents," growled Smoker who was fuming with rage, "the news date of over thirty minutes ago because Hawkeyes left them unconscious. So let me repeat myself: what is wrong with this man?'

Shanks and Rayleigh looked at each other with incomprehension and the situation was so serious and grotesque that even Buggy didn't dare to respond.

"My husband is perfectly made up," Shanks replied coldly, wiping the tears from his face and coughing so that his voice was firmer: "he always has a reason for doing something!"

Smoker scoffed, "I'd love to hear it."

The front door opened just then, slamming against the wall, and it remained open, the noise from outside and the heat seeping inside, as the intruder shouted: "Dad! Dad!"

Shanks jumped off the couch when he heard the distress in Ace's voice who was finally back after two hours outside. He ran to join his son in the hall and was surprised to see the state he was in: out of breath as if he had run a marathon, Ace's cheeks were red from the effort, tears were sinking at the same rate as Niagara Falls on his cheeks and his skateboard had disappeared.

"D-Dad," Ace stammered again in anxiety as he was visibly terrified of something.

Shanks' first instinct was to grab his son and hug him fiercely to keep him safe and only then did he ask, "What happened?"

Ace cried even harder and clung painfully to his father but didn't respond.

"Ace…," Shanks began, looking at the small crowd that had gathered around them but neither Buggy, Ray or Smoker had an answer to offer him. "...talk to me. I won't be mad, I promise."

The confidence seemed enough for Ace to desperately explain, "I-I was playing in the park...w-when someone grabbed me from behind...I tried to defend myself!"

"I know, you are very strong," Shanks replied to reassure his son; he looked towards Smoker but the officer was already doing his job taking notes in a notebook.

"H-he took me to a d-dark place," Ace continued as remorse began to fill his voice, "a-and...h-he stole my phone to call dad...and he made me scream to force dad to come and save me..."

Ace's voice broke with a pained sob and Shanks ignored his own fear - he didn't like the way this story was going - to crouch down and hug his child even tighter. Shanks' fear was not only towards Mihawk because their son had been kidnapped without him even realizing it, convinced that Ace was old enough to fend for himself and that the park was not far away - at just a five-minute walk - in case of a problem. What had happened to East Blue? The quietest and most boring region in the country?

Slightly comforted, Ace finished this story worthy of a gruesome thriller: "Dad came to save me... he-he drank something b-but the man still wouldn't let me go... and d-da-d start fighting against him!"

"Is Dad okay?" Shanks asked automatically, trying to control his anger so as not to scare the upset boy.

But Ace cried even harder: "I don't know! There was a gunshot! But Dad told me to run and that's what I did! I-I didn't want to be even more trouble for him!"

"Shh," Shanks whispered in his son's ear to keep him from hyperventilating. He ignored his broken heart and fear to focus on the most important thing at the moment, preventing Ace from falling into a vicious cycle of guilt. "Shh, Champ. It wasn't your fault. None of this is your fault. You're okay..."

"...but dad...," Ace whispered in fear for Mihawk; the gunshot sure traumatized him because it meant Mihawk could be in an unknown localization, slowly dying from a misplaced bullet. They wouldn't know what had happened to Mihawk until they found the "dark place".

"...he'll be fine," Shanks promised, believing with all his broken heart, "Hawkeyes is the strongest man in the world and he got married to the second. I wouldn't let anything bad happen to him, all right?"

Ace nodded before hiding against Shanks' neck to cry loudly there. The redhead let him, his hand in his black hair to help the boy calm down.

Smoker wanted to know the reason why Mihawk would act so rashly at the expense of his own safety? Well, the reason was currently crying and shaking in fear in his father's arms while the second one was now officially missing.

Chapter Text

Partie III. Pull me out the train wreck.

Chapter 18. My baby bird locked in his cage

Compared to popular belief, his obsession did not appear suddenly. It took time for the feeling to grow within him until it eclipsed his common sense and his will.

Love at first sight was not something he had ever believed in; it was a concept that should be left to the weak and sentimental.

Then he met him.

He wasn't supposed to be there, should have been on his couch drinking a beer and watching a football match, but had been called away at the last minute for work. It was precisely because he was not supposed to be there that he decided that the gods must have put him in his path.

Porcelain skin, short hair as black as a starless night, long dark eyelashes framing enigmatic golden eyes, and adorable baby cheeks. The teenager, probably 15 or 16, was clearly lost as he looked from the bulletin board to a paper in his right hand while his left nervously held his shoulder strap. The fluffy pink lip stuck between perfectly white teeth was another clear sign of nervousness.

He was sure: time had frozen just for them so he could see this young man drowning in a pool of boring strangers.

Thus, reinforced in his idea that their meeting had been planned by a superior force, he walked towards the young man, towered over him with his full height, and told him without any nervousness: "You are lost."

The young man jumped in fear before turning to his interlocutor. The double-rimmed golden eyes were even more impressive up close. With the lighting, he was sure the boy's iris was a gradient from orange to light yellow.

Despite his obvious nervousness, the young man was confident when he spoke: "I can't be lost if I know where I'm going."

"And where are you going?" he asked mockingly.

The boy frowned before grabbing his ticket from his pocket and replying, "platform D."

"Well, bad luck. You're at platform C."

"Impossible," protested the young man with a touch of annoyance, "I come from platform E. By logic, this platform is supposed to be the D one. At least, that’s what my plan says…"

He tilted his head at the adorable behavior - how could he take the young man seriously if he got angry so easily?

"I'm going to miss my competition…," the boy muttered in defeat.

"Let me see your plan," he ordered, not because he had become a good citizen, but because he hated seeing the pout on those pink lips. The young man obeyed gently and handed him his old plan. "Where did you get that from? Your plan is so dated it belongs in a museum."

"My father gave it to me," the boy explained softly with cheeks pink in embarrassment.

“Well, he would have done better off coming with you."

Feeling insulted, the young man replied: "I'm old enough to travel alone!"

"Clearly," he mocked, and against his better judgment, he added, "follow me."

The boy nodded before grabbing the large case at his feet and following his benefactor through the crowd. He didn't know what instinct had made him offer to help, knowing that he would miss his own train all for a stranger who couldn't read a sign correctly. But the kid looked so tense and nervous that it awakened something in him. Could it be love? or a need to protect him?

He made the mistake of looking behind him to check if the boy was still following him. Where he pushed the crowd to get through, the young man dodged each passerby with a grace of his own, his case held tightly to his chest. It was funny because the case had to be the size of the kid. Still, he looked cute and so young with his dark hair falling softly over his forehead.

The dark-haired young man looked like a baby bird that fell from the nest even though it barely knew how to fly yet.

His baby bird.

"Do you want me to carry it for you?" he asked when the baby bird was jostled for the second time.

"No, no one is allowed to touch Yoru except me," the baby bird replied, showing his teeth.

Instead of being frightened, he gently scoffed, "Funny name for a musical instrument."

"I'm a swordsman," corrected the baby bird with pride, "the best in the world, or at least I will be one day."

He smirked at the confidence that radiated from the baby bird, so much so that he was almost dazzled. He didn't know which facet he preferred: the nervous one or the proud one, but, in any case, he sure liked what he saw.

"And the future champion of the world has a name?" he asked out of curiosity as they arrived at platform D where the train was about to leave.

The baby bird shrugged proudly before retrieving a pen from his pocket, writing on his plan which he gave to the stranger who had helped him, and jumping onto the train's step, "My name is Hawkeyes. You better remember me!"

"Oh, I will," he thought, looking at the nickname written in cute cursive writing on the map.

However, this simple encounter was not enough to give rise to a dark side in him that he did not yet realize. No, he had even ended up taking that name and face out of his thoughts. Even though Hawkeyes was still present in his subconscious and in his Pornhub search history - who would have thought there would be so many young men with pale skin and dark hair on this platform?

It was after a long, exhausting day at work and while he was sitting in a local pub that he heard his nickname again.

"He did it! Hawkeyes won!" shouted the TV commentator with excitement, "what an unexpected victory! What a stunning victory! Ladies and gentlemen our young prodigy has done wonders tonight! He beat the former champion of the Olympic Games, the second favorite of this season, when all bets were against him!"

The camera moved closer to the stage where Hawkeyes removed his helmet to reveal his face red with exertion, his hair darkened with sweat, and his smile filled with so much pride. Below the replay, a banner indicated that Hawkeyes had just won his first game in this new Olympic Games.

As his burger cooled, he took his phone out of his pocket to check the name and was delighted to see that the baby bird had kept his promise.

"Mihawk 'Hawkeyes' Silvers;

18 years old, 1m98, 88kg, single;

Best swordsman in East Blue, Shin Sekai, and soon in the World".

Hawkeyes returned to the screen after the show did a short stint in men's swimming and took a break with a page ad. The young swordsman stood awkwardly in front of a sponsor-covered white screen. In a few minutes, the baby bird had time to change into a gray jogging and a black tank top, his cheeks had returned to their normal color, and his hair was pushed back again.

His baby bird had stopped flapping its wings madly to stay afloat and had become a pretty bird with elegant and refined plumage ; his eyes, still magnificent, were colder than before ; and his claws were sharper than ever. He had grown, his muscles had developed, yet he still looked so small and vulnerable...

"How does it feel to win against the former Olympic champion?" asked the interviewer.

The young swordsman visibly hesitated as he looked toward the camera nervously. He took a shaky breath before saying, "I, uh, it was easy."

The baby bird hadn't made a joke but the reporter laughed anyway, "you beat him by being hit five times, how does that make you feel?"

"I-I could have done better," Hawkeyes answered honestly without trying to brag.

"Your coach must be proud?"

The boy shrugged, "he argued me a little…," he admitted before looking nervously to the right, "I'm sorry, I have to go."

"Yes, of course, go celebrate your victory with your family."

The baby bird nodded without much conviction before fleeing out of the camera's view.

He wanted to feel frustrated that his baby bird was gone so quickly, instead he only felt pride. His heart beating with the desire to protect this bird that appears so strong but yet so vulnerable. Instead of being made uncomfortable, Hawkeyes deserved to be locked in a cage to be cherished and protected.

When he got home, he didn't go to Pornhub to satisfy his primitive urge but found a video on YouTube of a national competition that Hawkeyes won.

Perhaps his obsession was born at that moment ; when he was jerking off while dreaming of making the baby bird his. He imagined the scene only too well: his large body dwarfing that of his baby bird, the way Hawkeyes would squirm beneath him and moan his name.

He watched every match Hawkeyes competed in and felt pride fill him when his baby bird won the title of best fencer in the world.

His obsession continued after the Olympics ended, continuing to follow Hawkeyes's journey via videos or articles, and being more than disappointed when the fencer never created an official social media account. It was frustrating but logical. Hawkeyes wanted to be the best in his field and had no interest in something so trivial as popularity.

His desire grew when the Olympic Games resumed four years later and he was just as diligent, watching and recording every match, reading every article, and betting on his baby bird.

You can't imagine his rage when a sports magazine managed to take a photo of his baby bird in the company of a young man with red hair; a puppy. The two young men did nothing wrong except eat ice cream after the fencer's training. The article only speculated on the friendship - or more - between the two young people instead of focusing on Hawkeyes's performance the day before.

Angry, he burned the magazine.

So Hawkeyes was a fag?

It didn't matter, he could fix him.

He was even angrier when Hawkeyes announced his retirement a few months after his spectacular and quick victory. He barely managed to keep calm and only one glass was seriously injured. How dare he? This ungrateful bastard? How could his baby bird abandon him so suddenly?

However, his disappointment only lasted for a short time as he was rewarded for his self-control.

At first, he was against Sengoku's idea of opening a branch in East Blue and letting renegades and crooks run it. These people should be in prison and not representing the world government. Except he couldn't complain when he met the second Shichibukai that Sengoku had managed to hire.

Hair as dark as the plumage of crows, a perfectly fitted charcoal suit, a sinful ass encased in skimpy pants, and long legs that would look perfect wrapped around his waist.

Sengoku called out to their new collaborator who turned around and inadvertently revealed his identity.

His skin was still pale.

His golden eyes still sharp.

His lips still so pink and soft.

His baby bird had returned to him.

But the beard and mustache were new.

They shook hands like the professionals they were and he then scoffed, "You look lost."

"I'm only lost if I don't know where I'm going," Hawkeyes replied, not realizing that it was the same line he had said to the same person less than ten years ago.

He raised a curious eyebrow at that and smirked before adding, "And where are you going?"

"To the top," Hawkeyes replied proudly before turning to Sengoku, "although I would have agreed for a lot less. Being paid more to work less was far enough, but I appreciate your efforts and the little extras I earn."

His baby bird smiled cheekily before leaving.

It was a sign, right? It was no coincidence that his baby bird had chosen the same company as him ; that they were reunited after all this time.

No!

No.

No, it was another sign that they were meant to be together.

His baby bird knew who he belonged to and had come to tease him, tempt him, and play with his nerves. Those fitted suits were torture, watching him hang out with those two crooks was an ordeal, and smelling his cologne in the elevator was a temptation he wasn't sure he could resist.

The golden ring that magically appeared on Hawkeyes's left ring finger did nothing to dissuade him. After all, some birds had identification bands on their legs, but that didn't make them any less wild.

One day, the Shichibukais were relocated to East Blue as originally planned and the biggest torture was not seeing Hawkeyes every day anymore.

It didn't matter, he would let his baby bird fly free until he was ready to be domesticated and locked in the cage that belonged to him.

They continued to see each other nevertheless, during galas and obligatory meetings. His baby bird was always so beautiful and proud as much as he was untouchable and protected by the red-haired puppy who followed him everywhere. Unfortunately, the spouses were invited to the galas and the redhead -Shanks- always followed Hawkeyes like an energetic and protective puppy.

He remembered that time when the puppy had spent the evening flirting with married women who were also there to support their husbands. The redhead openly flirted with them while ignoring Hawkeyes. He said nothing, only watching with disdain and disgust as the redhead danced with someone who wasn't his husband. How could the puppy lust after someone else when he had already married the most handsome bird of the party?

It was incomprehensible and crazy and he wondered how anyone could be so stupid, blind, and ungrateful. If he had Hawkeyes for himself, he would treat him like a god and not have eyes for anyone else.

After a while, the puppy remembered that he had a husband and he put his empty glass on a table before joining him. The puppy ridiculed Hawkeyes by hugging him from behind, kissing his neck, and whispering things in his ear. Ashamed and angry, Hawkeyes pulled away from the hug, grabbed the redhead's wrist, and forced him to leave the room.

He thought that was all, that the couple had left and that the puppy was going to be scolded.

Oh, how wrong he was.

He froze as he wanted to enter the bathroom because he was sure he had heard a muffled moan. He waited a few seconds to be sure he hadn't gone crazy and then he heard it again:

"Fuck…! S~Shanks!"

"Be quiet or we'll get caught," the puppy's breathless voice growled.

Instead of remaining silent, his baby bird whined louder: "it was you who -fuck- couldn't wait until we got to the car..."

"You've seen yourself?" the puppy replied mockingly before moaning in turn, "I love it when you're mad at me because then you're tighter than..."

And then the moans were muffled and only the sound of skin against skin could be heard.

He felt rage rising in him and knew he should have left the moment he heard the first moan. Instead, he leaned against the wall to hear the desperate moans of his baby bird and pulled his hard cock out of his pants. It wasn't hard to imagine being in the puppy's place and being the one who provided just as much - or even more - pleasure to Hawkeyes.

Because he knew that soon his baby bird would be irrevocably and voluntarily his..

When the opportunity never presented itself, he decided to push luck on his side.

Sabotaged the puppy's boat hadn't been that difficult since the Red Force was anchored unsupervised in the harbor.

He would have preferred to kill the puppy himself to see the life leave his eyes and hear his last breath, but he would have had to hide the body and the inspector would have been able to trace him, which was not possible.

He also payed this crooked mayor to keep the puppy's unfortunate survival a secret. The redhead had amnesia and no longer posed any threat. And if one day he inadvertently regained his memory, the baby bird would already happily be locked in his cage by then.

Except that Hawkeyes was a fighter and his husband's death wasn't strong enough to completely break him.

Yet he needed Hawkeyes to be mentally broken because then he'd be malleable and weak. Only then, Hawkeyes will understand how strong he is not and how he needs someone stronger to keep him safe and protected. Because his baby bird, despite the muscles and the titles, wasn't strong : he was small, and vulnerable, and young, and anxious…

So he paid men to beat him up and then several photographers to follow him. Hawkeyes must no longer feel safe when he was outside, must be vulnerable and paranoid because only then... only then... only then could he step in and help his baby bird learn to fly again - under certain circumstances of course.

Sending these photos in orange envelopes was such an easy way to make his presence known.

Threatening that pretentious Outlook III into demanding a son he never wanted wasn't difficult either.

And these efforts had almost paid off when his plan was thwarted by the return of that damn redhead! How dare the puppy come back after all the effort he had put in? How dare this idiot steal his happy ending? This stupid, immature, and lovey-dovey redhead could never understand Hawkeyes's needs as only he can!

It wasn't the plan…

Ener didn't respect his part of the deal.

it wasn't okay…

Hawkeyes was still so in love with the puppy; his face was all lighted up and his smile so bright when he eventually came back to work.

But everything will soon be back to normal, he would make sure of that.

The puppy was just an annoying setback that's all; Hawkeyes would soon be his, he knew it. And he was even ready to accept the five baby birds as his own to ensure his victory.

Hawkeyes was him to love, to cherish, to protect, to keep in line because the birds were so small, so fragile... so easily broken.

Except he had to admit that the police detective was annoying.

How could he catch his baby bird if Hawkeyes was already in a cage? Not the good one, though.

He hadn't planned to kidnap the dark-haired boy -Ace-, hadn't thought straight when he saw the boy playing carelessly in the park and had simply grabbed him.

He was tired of thinking and preferred to give way to his instincts.

He looked in the rearview mirror at the passed-out boy and decided that the three of them would be a perfect family.

After all, his baby bird was worth all those efforts and much more.

Especially when, in the end, he won.

Well, the boy had run away, but that didn't matter: he'd never been interested in being a surrogate father anyway.

His baby bird was now safe in his cage where he would be loved and cared for as he deserved.

He was sitting on the mattress, overlooking the soft form of his baby bird, and his left hand was playing with the soft dark locks. His baby bird looked so innocent in his sleep, so precious as he lay on his side. His pink heart-shaped lips were half parted as he breathed softly, his long eyelashes brushed the pale skin of his cheeks, and his exhausted features were smoothed after a good night's sleep.

Knowing that his baby bird was the type to bite and flap his wings frantically, he had seen fit to tie his hands to the bedpost to prevent him from getting hurt.

A small tired moan brought him out of his reverie and he looked down to where his baby bird was beginning to stir; his eyes moving beneath his closed lids and his breathing becoming lighter.

"Shhh," he whispered before retrieving a syringe and gently sticking it into his baby bird’s arm, "it’s not time to wake up yet," he added, pressing the plunger without any remorse.

His baby bird relaxed again knowing he was safe in the cage he would never leave.

Chapter Text

Chapter 19. It all fell down.

Inevitably, Ace's cries attracted the attention of the other five children in the house. Rayleigh's screams hadn't attracted them, but they all seemed to have developed a sixth sense whenever one of them was in emotional distress. So Shanks found himself helpless when Luffy started crying out of brotherly solidarity and clinging to Ace to comfort him. The older ones looked at him with confusion and bombarded him with questions to find out what was wrong with Ace.

At least Rayleigh and Buggy were there to help calm the kids down. It took them a while but they managed to guide them towards the living room rather than staying in the entrance hall where the boys' crying had begun to attract the neighbors.

Ace and Luffy sat down on either side of Shanks and clung to him.

The crying resumed when Smoker confirmed that Mihawk had been kidnapped about thirty minutes later. This time, the tears were widespread since even Sabo, Zoro, Perona and Uta shed a tear. Sabo took refuge against Buggy's side who held him easily and Uta did the same with Rayleigh whom she knew the most apart from Shanks who was already largely strained by Luffy's fear and Ace's guilt. For his part, Zoro turned to Perona and the brother and sister comforted each other.

Tashigi, Smoker's assistant, had tracked Mihawk using the unmarked police car he had stolen to a dark and dilapidated warehouse. Tashigi didn't need Ace to confirm that it was the right warehouse as she found a navy blue suit jacket at the door's entrance and the rest of Mihawk's belongings inside. His wedding ring, his watch, his phone and even the necklace Shanks had just given him. Everything had been abandoned on a dirty floor as if the stalker wanted to force Mihawk to leave his old life behind. Except Mihawk himself and the stalker were nowhere to be found.

The only good news Tashigi could give them was the absence of blood in the warehouse. So the gunshot hadn't hit anyone which was good because that meant Mihawk wasn't bleeding out somewhere, but neither was his stalker...

Smoker, probably tired of the children's cries, left after collecting Ace's clothes and the dead skin under his nails. Shanks hadn't really understood why Smoker was doing this because Luffy's crying had prevented him from hearing the explanation, but the process was similar enough to what he had seen on TV not to intervene.

At this point, Shanks would do anything to have his husband back with them and safe at home.

Who knows what the stalker would do to Mihawk now that he finally had him? Shanks didn't want to imagine the worst yet the mental images that entered his mind were far from the flower field under the bright sun.

He imagined Mihawk, alone and vulnerable, in the hands of a man obsessed, methodical and evil enough to try to kill him.

He imagined his husband tied up in a dingy bed in a dirty, dark, damp cellar.

He imagined searching for his loverbird only to find his wings broken, hs battered body covered in blood and semen, and his mind shared by the work of a lunatic.

Above all, Shanks thought about all the wasted moments where he could have held his husband in his arm this week. So many missed opportunities because of his jealousy...

In order not to lose his mind, he remembered how Mihawk had rested his head on his shoulder because he was tired on Friday, how he had not wanted to leave the bed on Saturday morning, collapsing a little more each time against Shanks, and their two dances.

Why do we always have to lose something before realizing how valuable it is?

"Shanks"

Shanks was startled out of his drowsiness by Mihawk's pleading voice. He looked left and right, searching the office from where he sat on the leather chair, but only Ace and Luffy were sleeping soundly in the bed. An auditory hallucination then. That wouldn't be surprising since Shanks hadn't slept a wink all night.

He had wandered around the house like a lost soul, going from room to room to check on the children, and talking to Tashigi about what would happen next.

Had Mihawk also experienced the worst night of his life when he learned of his disappearance? Had he also stayed up all night hoping it was just a nightmare? Had he too found comfort in checking every few hours that the children were safe in their beds? Had Mihawk also felt the hope that maybe, just maybe, this event would not mark the end of their story?

Shanks was brought out of his thoughts again by his alarm going off loudly. The day had just begun and this time Mihawk would not be there to orchestrate breakfast. So Shanks would be the responsible parent he supposed, he would like the kids to stay home with him, but they had received permission from Smoker to go to school. A semblance of normalcy was probably what the children needed most, especially being with their friends to comfort them and take their minds off their missing dad.

At least Shanks was just following Mihawk's logic.

He still left Ace a way out if the teenager wanted to stay and rest at home since he was more affected by this whole story than the others. The usually rebellious and full-of-life kid just shrugged, "I'll try to stay in the principal's office."

Shanks nodded because, knowing old Whitebeard, he would certainly agree if Ace explained to him why he felt bad today.

At first, Shanks thought he was doing just fine: the children were all dressed and eating breakfast quietly enough in the kitchen for him to offer Tashigi a mug of coffee. He even had more coffee than needed for the other police officers stationed outside because he wanted to be a decent host.

And then, without any context, Luffy, who hadn't spoken once since waking up, threw his still-filled bowl of cereal onto the floor and shouted, "You're all mean! I hate you!"

Before Shanks or anyone else could react, Luffy ran towards his room with tears streaming down his cheeks. Upstairs, a door slammed violently. Surprised by this outburst of anger, Shanks looked towards Sabo for answers since Ace was trying to communicate with his bowl of cereal.

The boy shrugged a little before admitting, "Today… it's been a year since your boat sank and you disappeared."

Oh.

Shanks had never cared to know exactly what day he had disappeared, maybe he should have, if not for himself then at least for the children and Mihawk. It wasn't because he didn't care that the date didn't have symbolism for the rest of the family.

He wanted to say something but Sabo had started playing with his cereal again without much interest. Shanks looked towards the other children and guessed that it wasn't easy for them either: Uta seemed uncomfortable being in such a torn and broken house that she loved very much, it wasn't the home that Shanks had wanted for her; Perona hadn't put on any makeup and wasn't wearing one of her beautiful dresses, opting instead for ripped jeans and a t-shirt, even her hair had lost its shine; and Zoro held his knife as if he planned to hit someone very soon.

Shanks sighed as, for once, he didn't know what to say which was a shame for someone so talkative and good with comforting speeches. But what could he say?

Would Mihawk be okay? They didn't even know where he was or with whom.

Would they find him soon? But for that, didn't Shanks have to start looking for Mihawk?

Would they all be reunited soon? But then, what state would Mihawk be in?

Tashigi told him that they should leave soon so as not to be late for school and they went upstairs together to try to console Luffy. Unfortunately, even Shanks' comforting words didn't convince the boy to come out of his forest. Shanks began to despair because he hated making his boy suffer and, to a much lesser extent, because he had to start looking for Mihawk for his sake and the children's.

Then Shanks knocked on the door again, mentally apologized to Tashigi, and said in a playful voice, "Mrs. Tashigi agreed to turn on the flashing lights if you go to school."

As expected, Luffy ran out of his room, Tashigi glared at the reckless redhead and Shanks grimaced a little; note to himself, the young policewoman could be frightening.

Once all the children were safe at school with police officers watching over them, Tashigi and Shanks went to the police station. The first because she worked there, the second as a nuisance who would refuse to leave until he saw all the evidence collected so far. Shanks felt his nervousness spike when Smoker stared at him without saying anything, but he held on and the detective ended up giving him a visitor's badge and a small desk.

Shanks settled into an uncomfortable chair and began working on getting inside the stalker's head. He understood the motive only too well, after all, he had married Mihawk. Shanks knew he was lucky to have married the intelligent, talented, brilliant, eloquent, and beautiful Mihawk 'Hawkeyes' Silvers. Except he couldn't understand this level of adoration. How could someone love someone so much that they would follow them, beat them, and threaten their family?

It wasn't love, it was madness.

He also finally understood why Mihawk had closed his social networks and his telephone line if he had been facing a stalker since before the start of the year. Shanks had the proof in front of him as he held a photograph from his Facebook - a winter they had spent in a cabin early in their relationship.

Shanks also had proof that the stalker had been following Mihawk for longer than Smoker believed because one of the photographs the lawyer had received had been taken a long, long time ago. In the photograph, Mihawk looked like a baby - in Shanks's humble opinion - with his cheeks still full of adolescent fat, his eyes still quite round, his black locks falling on his forehead, and his fencing tracksuit a little too big. If Shanks had to guess the photograph was taken by a professional around the time Mihawk first competed in the Olympics.

However, between his retirement and his entry into government, Mihawk had asked - threatened - several newspapers to delete photographs of him so that he could rebuild his life away from the spotlight. Most of the photographs were still there, especially the one from his second competition, but the one Shanks held in his hand was collector since he couldn't find it on the Internet. The only solution was that the stalker had kept this photo on him all this time.

Shanks looked at the photograph where Mihawk was so young - his adorable little shrimp - so much so that he didn't yet have a beard, and shivered in disgust not at his husband, but at the kidnapper.

Tashigi forced him to come home when school was over and her argument was flawless: the children would need their second father to support them. So Shanks forced himself to let go of the photograph and followed Tashigi out of the police station.

Going to school helped the children a little; Ace was less guilty, Perona had put on her makeup during the day, Uta had started humming again, and Luffy had regained a little taste for life from where he was clinging to Shanks' leg. Sabo was still lost in his own world, a book he didn't read on his lap like Mihawk would when he was lost in thought. And Zoro went out into the garden as soon as he could. The newfound good humor was therefore only a facade, only a means of holding on until a good or bad news fell; Shanks swore that it would be a good news.

Once the meal was served, Shanks went out to join Zoro outside since the young man had not heard him the first time: "The food is served."

"Five more minutes," Zoro growled from where he was training against a tree with a wooden sword.

"I think this tree has had enough."

Zoro only growled before attacking harder, his arm vibrating at the intensity of the blow that caused leaves to fall.

"Come on, it's going to be cold and I'm sure your technique isn't good anyway," Shanks added with feigned good humor.

"I have to be stronger!"

Shanks tilted his head to the side to look at the angry teen, "Nothing requires you to?"

"I have to surpass him! That's my goal…. I-he's always been my goal. How am I supposed to beat Hawkeyes if… if… if…."

For a second, Shanks thought Zoro was going to say, "If Hawkeyes has already been defeated."

Instead, the boy stopped fighting and looked at the red-haired adult in despair, "...what if he never comes home?"

"He will," Shanks promised with a comforting smile, "trust me, Hawkeyes is stronger than you think. He won't be defeated that easily or stop fighting. So stop talking like that or else Hawky will kick your butt when he gets home."

Zoro ended up nodding a little and he put down his training stick near the tree to run towards the house eagerly because his appetite had suddenly returned to him.

After the meal, it was Uta's turn to need comfort. Indeed, Shanks found his young protégé sitting on a chair in the dining room even though she should have been in bed for about thirty minutes now.

"Aren’t you in bed yet, partner?" he asked, walking closer to see what Uta was doing at such a late hour.

Uta shook her head, "I have to finish," she murmured, continuing to write on a sheet of paper that must have been in the war: it was holed in places, full of erasures and meaningless words written in the margin.

"What is this?"

"My song for Hawky," Uta replied looking at him, her violet eyes were filled with hope and determination, "I have to finish for his return!"

"I'm sure he'll be happy to hear it," he murmured, ruffling the two-toned hair, "but you need to sleep to be even more creative."

The teenager looked at him with her mouth half open, "do you think so?"

"I'm sure of it," he replied with a gentle smile to reassure Uta and he guided her with a hand on the shoulder to her shared room with Perona who was waiting for them.

Now that he had fulfilled his role as a model father by comforting three children in one day, Shanks was ready to support them all emotionally. So, he was not ready to be comforted by one of his children. However, it was Sabo who entered the office, his face pink with embarrassment, to retrieve the long silver chain he had around his neck and hand it to Shanks.

"He said you'd always come back to me if I had it," Sabo whispered as Shanks apprehensively retrieved the silver chain. He opened the chain and let the ring fall into his palm to better read the inscription: You are my lighthouse.

"It’s my ring!" he exclaimed in surprise as he read again the inscription he had made written eight years ago, "well, the ring I bought for Mihawk. Did he give it to you?"

Sabo nodded, "I thought it was about time I gave it back to you. I-I…"

"What?" the adult asked, noticing from Sabo's hesitation that he was holding back something important.

"I thought it might help you find Dad. I know the ring isn't magic, but if it can motivate or guide you, well..."

Shanks smiled softly, tears welling up in his eyes at Sabo's easy display of trust, he squeezed the boy's shoulder before whispering, "Thank you, I'm sure that will help."

Sabo nodded a little since he was a boy of logic rather than belief, "good night, dad."

"Good night, son."

Shanks slipped the ring onto his right ring finger, vowing that it would soon find its rightful place on Mihawk's finger.

However, as he sat up in the creaky bed, a question occurred to Shanks: if he was the one who had Mihawk's ring then what was the gold ring he had seen the older one wearing, and who was now at the police station?

Shanks didn't have time to wonder further because Chopper took advantage of his deep reflection to leave his basket and settle into the bed on Mihawk's side. The dog lay down halfway across the bed before Shanks could remind him of Mihawk's golden rule: no dogs in the rooms and even less in the beds. Still, Chopper looked pretty settled, proving that he was now used to sleeping in a bed, and Shanks didn't have the strength to fight. So he undressed, turned off the light, and lay down next to Chopper.

"You did that with Hawky too, right?" Shanks whispered, running his fingers through the soft fur. He imagined the scene so well: Mihawk curled up with the dog he didn't want to keep him company during his insomnia. He felt a little better knowing that at least Chopper had been there when he couldn't, "good boy."

Instead of falling asleep, Shanks stared into the looming darkness of the room as he wondered how Mihawk slept right now. Was he curled up on his side to keep himself safe and warm? Or had he been forced to share a bed with the stalker? Had he lost hope? Or on the contrary, did he think that Shanks would come even if he no longer had his ring?

Shanks pushed the duvet off his overheated body while feeling guilty. Personally, he was always warm and always slept with either boxers or a t-shirt in winter. Gone were the days when Shanks slept naked without fear of a child sneaking into his bed in the middle of the night. For his part, Mihawk was always cold as if his pale skin couldn't retain the heat of the sun which wouldn't be surprising since he was incapable of tanning - his skin would turn red and painful if he didn't put sunscreen. Even his feet remained cold in the summer and Mihawk, being a secret little shit, loved to press them on any part of Shanks' body to make him shiver.

With happy memories in mind, Shanks managed to fall asleep.

"S-stop…don't leave…

Don't leave me, Shanks.

Shanks !"

The next day, Shanks was forced to realize that Smoker and his team were not as incompetent as he thought. He had analyzed every clue they had collected over the past year and had come to the same conclusion as them: the stalker was meticulous and crazy. Otherwise, he hadn't found anything more than them which was infuriating since he was supposed to know Mihawk better than them.

Yet other than wanting to keep some of the photographs, Shanks had no idea at all.

Smoker had already questioned the deck guard who had not seen a soul hanging around in the week before the fatal departure. He also interviewed Ener and each of the photographers in the region, whether professional, private, or amateur. And the detective had even crossed off every name on his suspect list, even the names of Mihawk, Rayleigh, Crocodile, Teach, and Akainu.

The DNA results came in early in the afternoon and were inconclusive.

"The prints we found on your husband's belongings are incomplete and insufficient to search the database," Smoker told them in frustration.

"So there’s nothing more to do?" Shanks asked feeling his own anger rising as it had been two days since Mihawk had been with that psychopath; two days too long. "I thought after two days it was too late to find a kidnapped person!"

"That's in the movies," Smoker mocked, crossing his arms over his chest.

To calm the atmosphere Tashigi added: "our case is more complicated. Mr. Hawkeyes was not kidnapped for a ransom or out of spite but by an unhealthy love which tends towards obsession. We have every reason to believe that the stalker will keep Mr. Hawkeyes alive as long as possible now that he has him."

"If your husband doesn't struggle," Smoker concluded, giving him a look that said 'knowing your husband, he's going to fight back.'

"We'll have to lift part of the blockade on the city, but we'll continue the search, right, boss? We can leave their family defenseless."

"I won't let that bastard win," Smoker confirmed before pulling out his phone, "we're lucky you have contact with the Shin Sekai police chief."

"I do?" Shanks asked in disbelief because the only reasons he might know the police chief weren't good ones and wouldn't work in his favor - his uni years had been quite... eventful.

Smoker dialed a number and it took a few seconds before the other person answered in his deep but lax voice. Shanks blinked when he recognized the voice as that of their former neighbor: Garp. Oh, everything made sense then since Garp in addition to being police chief was Luffy's paternal grandfather.

The two police officers talked among themselves: Smoker explaining that he needed Shin Sekai resources to mix several prints to obtain the identity of the kidnapper and Garp promising that he would have the result before tomorrow afternoon. And then the phone was given to Shanks who hesitated to take it.

"So how are my grandchildren?" Garp asked, both like the worried grandfather he was - he had decided, for obscure reasons, that Sabo and Ace were also his grandchildren and for the sake of utility neither Shanks nor Mihawk had dissuaded him- but also like the angry police chief.

Shanks swallowed before answering, "They play with the police car lights and even stole Tashigi's handcuffs."

For several minutes, Shanks talked about the infernal trio's mischiefs because Garp wanted news, but then, without context, the old man ordered, "Don't react to what I'm about to tell you."

Although taken aback, Shanks forced himself to keep his smile and remain silent so as not to attract the attention of Smoker and Tashigi who were talking together.

"Smoker is pinning all his hopes on the kidnapper's DNA, but it might turn up nothing or, at best, it will be hours before the prints give us a name and address that might not be the right one. Hawkeyes don't have that time so stop wasting yours in this police station. I'm going to regret it but... if you're half of what your father was, and we both know you're a smart troublemaker, then you will find a way to save Hawkeyes on your own. Do you have a lead?"

"Yes, I'll say hello to the boys," Shanks replied although he wasn't sure his lead would be very cooperative.

"Then go get your husband," Garp laughed before hanging up.

Returning his phone to Smoker, Shanks decided not to waste time and take Garp's advice immediately, so he asked, "Would it be possible to have Hawky's phone now that you're done with it?"

After all, weren't first impressions always good?

Once the Samsung was in his hand, Shanks entered Mihawk's code and was greeted by a nice photo of the trio and him which stood out sharply from the classic screen background. He ignored private conversations between Mihawk and his colleagues or their families, preferring the rather long one he had with Akainu. It took Shanks almost five to six minutes to scroll to the beginning of the conversation and over an hour to read everything. It wasn't anything hectic, a lot of chatter about work, some philosophical discussions about books, oh and Akainu flirting here and there. At least this part was quite funny because either Mihawk didn't realize it - even if the flirting was quite obvious - or his refusals were too subtle for Shanks to understand them.

His idea was still reinforced, Akainu enjoyed the kiss and was very interested in Mihawk's "oratorical qualities" and "reflective speed"; gross. It was the worst flirtation Shanks had ever read and he considered himself an expert in seduction since he managed to make Hawky blush and his friends often came to ask him questions. Shanks was a romantic at heart, he always had new date ideas to spice up Mihawk's daily life and he was full of compliments. Whereas Akainu was... pushy, clumsy, and put his desires ahead of Hawky's.

Truly, Shanks felt ridiculous now: as if Akainu could have beaten him in a competition to win Hawky's heart. This man was a brute, whether in business or in love.

Perhaps the kiss skewed Shanks' judgment; perhaps he should look for another culprit; maybe he was just jealous; maybe Akainu was honestly in love with Mihawk and Smoker was right innocent him.

Maybe.

All Shanks knew was that there had been a kiss between Akainu and Mihawk and that, without knowing why or how, Teach was involved in this matter and he intended to lift the veil on this situation.

So yes, tomorrow's schedule obsessed Shanks from the trip to elementary school with Tashigi and even while he took care of homework, laundry and dinner. How had Mihawk made it look so easy? Shanks was fucking exhausted after having to deal with four rowdy boys, two talkative girls, and an overexcited dog. He had certainly exceeded Hawky's schedule - which he had found in the Samsung - by two hours but the children were all asleep in their own beds with full stomachs and clean bodies.

On this hard-won battle, Shanks fell asleep exhausted but his mind still fixed on this kiss and how it could be the key to this whole affair.

It was therefore obvious that his sleep was disturbed by a long-forgotten memory.

He and Mihawk had a bet: whoever finished in first place on the 'most handsome men' list would be exempt from cleaning Luffy's diapers for a month.

The list was a pastime of women - secretaries, employees, and wives - during seminars to pass the boredom and to collect money since a vote cost five dollars.

Shanks had known about the list since the last seminar and only because he was well integrated into the 'wives' clan - it didn't affect his virility at all and he was actually having a lot of fun - and because he had won. He had also learned that, last time, it was 'the model' who had won and Shanks had burst out laughing when he found out he was married to said model. Mihawk had been much less amused when he learned for the list, firstly because it was "unprofessional, don't put up with this behavior, Shanks" and secondly because "you're not part of the staff so technically I won".

Obviously, since there was a competition and they were tied, the couple had decided to spice up this seminar - the third where Mihawk was invited since he joined the Shichibukai - with a bet and not having to clean Luffy was a pretty good reward.

So since this seminar was taking place in a luxury hotel, Shanks had decided to use the swimming pool to his advantage. It wouldn't be his fault if he had to take off his clothes and reveal his muscular, tanned torso to swim in his little swimming trunks.

"You're cheating," Mihawk still accused him once his meeting was over and he had joined Shanks at the pool. Despite his harsh voice, his golden eyes were hypnotized by the drops of water running down his husband's defined chest.

"Me?" Shanks asked with a naughty smile even though he feigned innocence, "that hadn't even crossed my mind," he lied as he stretched his arms behind his back to flex his back muscles and make the ladies salivate since they were looking at them with great interest from behind their fans.

Mihawk stared at him for a few seconds without reprimanding him or deciding that Shanks was disqualified since there had been cheating with a capital 'T'. Honestly, given Mihawk's competitive and sporting spirit, the second option has never happened before. No, if Shanks cheated then Mihawk adapted.

So, Shanks shouldn't have been surprised when Mihawk started taking off his shoes and socks. He only reacted when Mihawk handed him his suit jacket, "What are you doing?"

"I'm hot after being cooped up all day and the water looks divine," Mihawk explained, slowly removing his tie.

"You can not!" Exclaimed Shanks, realizing that his husband was stealing his tactics and that it was working...

"Move over, Red! We want to see!" Exclaimed one of the secretaries who worked with Mihawk and who had never seen the lawyer shirtless - until now no one had seen the former swordsman without his clothes and Shanks would have liked to keep it that way.

"Did you hear the women? They want to see," Mihawk mocked with a wide smirk as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt to make a show of it.

"Well, I, your husband, don't want to," Shanks replied, grabbing both sides of Mihawk's shirt to zip them up and hide the view of the pale, incredibly muscular torso.

"That’s quite bold of you, don’t you think?"

"I didn't make it a striptease," Shanks replied in a high-pitched voice as Mihawk unzipped his belt, "are you even wearing a swimsuit underneath?"

"Maybe," Mihawk replied slyly, lowering his lightning belt.

"You're not serious..."

"I am, you're cheating and I don't want to deal with Luffy's diapers."

Before Shanks could respond, he was pushed out of the way by Dolfy who had come to lend a hand to Mihawk, "for once there's some entertainment here, let Birdie give us a little show."

Pinned by the arm on his shoulder, Shanks could only watch as Mihawk struggled out of his clothes to reveal his Greek god body to his colleagues and their wives. They all looked at him from Crocodile, who had already seen and explored everything, to the groups of forty-year-olds who were feverishly beating their fans to cool off, and even Sengoku, Akainu, Aokiji, and Kizaru had stopped their conversations, attracted by the couple's funny argument.

If Shanks had been preoccupied with anything other than the dirty diapers waiting for him at home, then perhaps he would have noticed the glint in Akainu's eyes.

As the seminar ended and it was time to leave, Shanks overheard a conversation that hadn't struck him at the time because he had just lost his bet: "it was a huge hit this year, even the bosses participated. Sengoku bet on Mr. Hawkeyes because he wants his employee to be rewarded for his good work and Kizaru and Aokiji for Shanks out of a spirit of contradiction."

"What about Akainu?"

The young secretary shrugged her shoulders, "on Mr. Hawkeyes too, but he didn't want to share his reason."

After waking up at two in the morning due to this memory turning into a nightmare with Mihawk being drowned underwater by Akainu, Shanks was unable to go back to sleep and spent the rest of the night planning a course of action.

Then the red-haired entered Crocodile's office before the clock struck eight with an objective in head: "I want every file you have on Akainu."

He wasted no time with pleasantries because today would be the day he would be reunited with his husband.

This entry without invitation made Crocodile raise an eyebrow, otherwise he did not respond, not very interested in responding to the redhead's whims.

"I know you delved into my private life when I started dating Mihawk so you've got to have a file on Akainu. I want it."

This time the request was enough to force Crocodile to raise his head from the computer screen, "I don't have anything more that the police might have."

"I know you're lying," Shanks replied, crossing his arm over his chest.

"Of course, but why would I help you?"

Here he was the Crocodile that Shanks had come to know to hate: this man always needed to know the price before offering anything even to his best friend.

"You owe Mihawk one. If you had stopped him from escaping the police hideout then he would be here now," Shanks explained as he took a step into the room.

Crocodile scoffed disdainfully, "go talk to your sister-in-law about that, she's the one who distracted us while Mihawk blocked the door. We were locked in for an hour because of her."

"I don't care about your excuses," repeated Shanks, who was not in a cordial mood today; it had been three sleepless nights because of Mihawk's voice echoing in his mind. If this continued like this, Shanks was either going to go crazy or consume one of the sleeping pills he found in Mihawk's bedside table even if he knew the risks.

"Tch, do you even have proof?" asked Crocodile who must have guessed that Shanks would not leave so easily, "Akainu remains my boss and my position has some advantages."

"Not yet," Shanks admitted reluctantly.

Crocodile rolled his eyes before conceding, "Find proof and I'll give you everything I have."

"Thanks."

"I'm not doing this for you, but so that Mihawk owes me."

"Of course," Shanks replied with a sincere smile because he wasn't fooled.

However, he lost his smile, his face hardening again and anger darkening the red of his eyes, when he entered the company toilets. As expected, he found Teach cleaning his hands.

"How did you know about Mihawk and Akainu?" he asked without any preamble, firstly because he didn't have time and secondly because it was quite amusing to see Teach jump.

After overcoming his surprise that Shanks had stolen Mihawk's badge to illegally enter the building and up to the penultimate floor, Teach laughed sardonically, "My little finger told me so."

"How. Did. You. know," Shanks repeated slowly, taking a step towards Teach each time to appear a little more intimidating.

"I have nothing to tell you."

The door opened. Light and sounds from outside filtered inside before it closed gently. Shanks didn't look to his right to see that Boa had joined him, "answer the question, Teach."

"Yeah, Teach, answer the question," added an amused voice from just behind the step-siblings; it was Doflamingo who had sneaked into the bathroom at the same time as Boa. "Otherwise, I would love to hit you again."

Supported by Boa and Doflamingo, Shanks raised an eyebrow and Teach gave in. He fished his phone out of his pocket, looked for something, and handed it to Shanks to see the black and white camera capture. His fingers tightened on the small device as he recognized his husband, sitting on a long wooden table, and Akainu settled between his legs as they kissed.

At least Teach had been right about one thing: the kiss was hot; not as much as Shanks' anger though.

"It was sent to me anonymously," Teach added before he could be questioned further.

Shanks nodded as it made sense, "I want that picture."

Once the proof was in their pocket, Shanks and his two allies returned to Crocodile's office to show him.

"It’s here, right?" Shanks asked, an idea in mind.

"This is our conference room," Boa confirmed after looking at the photo again with an expression of disgust. Shanks understood because he wouldn't like to see Buggy being kissed by anyone either.

"Mihawk told me the surveillance camera was secured in places like that for privacy or something. Is that true?"

Crocodile shrugged, "as far as we know, yes."

"In any case, we have done worse than that with Crocy and we've never been caught by security," added Dolfy as a big perverse smile stretched his lips.

"We didn't need to know that," Boa complained, her look of disgust increasing.

The two colleagues were about to start a new fight when Shanks interrupted them: "And the cameras couldn't be hacked?"

"No, that's not possible," Crocodile admitted with a small frown.

"...for now," Dolfy murmured with a maniacal chuckle.

Shanks decided to ignore the hacking attempts of Mihawk's two friends and thought out loud, "so we know there was a kiss in a secure room."

"How does this help us?" Dolfy asked impatiently, looking back at the photo over Crocodile's shoulder, "we know Birdie likes to be manhandled, but there's nothing new here. No offense Red, but Croc is pretty wild."

Crocodile pushed his husband away with a shoulder, "he means that only two people knew for the kiss and Mihawk is not the type to tell his misdeeds if he ever commits one."

"Oh," Doflamingo muttered before thinking deeper, "so Akainu anonymously sent the photograph to Teach knowing that he and Mihawk had just had an argument."

"Wow, I thought smart blondes were a rumor," Shanks scoffed bitterly only to receive a middle finger.

"It's quite bold of Akainu to admit his own wrongdoing," added Boa, who didn't want to laugh while her brother was in danger.

"He's always been too sure of himself," Crocodile analyzed in a cold tone, "I'm sending you the files we have on him."

Crocodile transferred everything from a hard drive to a USB key but was not yet rid of the nuisances that had taken possession of his office. Shanks settled on the couch with his laptop on his lap and was soon joined by Boa and Doflamingo who were technically at their workplaces but were helping him find Mihawk. Even Crocodile, grumpy, stopped working on his work to look into Akainu's private life. The couple sure had a weird hobby, but it suited Shanks for the moment so he didn't say anything.

Together, they sifted through Akainu's every move over the past year to find something that shouldn't be there. Akainu's bank accounts were as boring as he was: Hawaiian shirts, three caps, online bets on a football team, a large cash withdrawal named with a Skypeian term, and mundane purchases for beer or a telephone line and a sports subscription.

Wait? Skypeia?

"I've got you, bastard," Shanks murmured as he read the word again that definitely came from Skypeia. He turned the computer around to show his temporary teammates what he had found, "this word means 'gold' in Skypeia. It's quite subtle, isn't it?"

"Skypeia…," Boa began before hesitating, "..., wasn't that the island you were stuck on for a year?"

"Yes, Uta taught me how to read their language."

"What are the chances that Akainu has a secret lover there?" Doflamingo asked, laughing.

"They're weak, especially since Ener received an anonymous email and a bribe to lie about Red," Crocodile replied, retrieving a cigar from his jacket, a hypothetical sign of his concern since it was the second in one hour. "Mihawk managed to get this information out of him before the police did," he added to the incredulous looks he received.

"It’s quite incriminating, but will the police accept this evidence?"

"Smoker doesn't know I'm here," Shanks admitted without any shame. The advantage of hanging around crooks like Crocodile and Doflamingo was that his misdeeds were pitiful compared to what they had or could do. "The administration and their protocol are holding them back. We have to hurry and find Hawky, we'll think about the evidence later."

"Kill first, ask questions later," Doflamingo laughed before asking more seriously, "but what do we do now?"

"We know it's Akainu," replied Boa, whose blue eyes she had inherited from Rayleigh were filled with worry and uncertainty. The three men nodded since they no longer had any doubts on that subject, "except that he is not stupid enough to hide Mihawk in his apartment."

"Maybe, we haven't checked yet," Crocodile countered, "the city has been blocked for three days, maybe he didn't have a plan B. The kidnapping seemed a bit rash, otherwise, he wouldn't have left his fingerprints on Mihawk's belongings."

"We could ask him. Our friend in the Hawaiian shirts is right above us."

"No," Shanks automatically refused, who still held on to his pacifist side a little, "he won't say anything even under torture. We have to be smarter than that. We should check his apartment or follow him."

"I might have an idea for that!" Doflamingo exclaimed with a laugh-filled with excitement, "I bought a GPS spy that I'm dying to try..."

"...not with that again," Crocodile muttered in disgust.

"Yes! It's a great box that collects GPS information from a car and can even operate in real-time. No need for tailing that none of us can do here, especially not Bucky Barnes over here," Dolfy added, pointing to Shanks and his missing arm which made it difficult to drive.

"Asshole," Shanks muttered under his breath before admitting out loud, "that might work..."

"It's not legal," Boa added, brushing her black hair from her shoulder, "we'll need more legal proof for the police to arrest Akainu and lock him behind bars forever. This weirdo must never again approach my brother."

Shanks nodded as he personally understood the feeling, "Smoker said he talked to the photographers in town, but I'll try again another way..."

"I’ll look into his accounts to find a lead," the young woman decided.

"Starts from the years when Mihawk competed in the Olympics. How about you?" he asked the couple who had remained silent.

"I'll get the device."

Crocodile hesitated before deciding to continue the adventure with them: "I'm going to look where he could have locked Hawkeyes."

Shanks smiled proudly to have assembled such an efficient team in barely an hour and a half and left the building knowing that they were on the right track to stopping Akainu. They would just need real proof to definitively indict him and only then Mihawk will finally be free. Maybe Garp was right to give him that advice after all...

"Shanks, wait," someone called from behind him.

Shanks blinked as he recognized the voice and turned to see Beck behind him. Unsure if the anger he felt was only directed at Akainu or not, Shanks crossed his arm over his chest, "what do you want? Are you fishing for information for Smoker?"

"Tch, no," Beckman spat before admitting, "you always wanted the guys and I to be close to Hawkeyes and that's what we did. We got to know and like him in a year. So when he said he trusted Smoker to handle the stalker, I believed him. Are you going to be mad at me for following your order?"

"No," Shanks began before approaching his best friend, "but you didn't tell me the truth when I asked you. I came to see you because you're my friend, but you… you should have told me everything. So maybe then I could have protected my husband! Or at least I wouldn't be feeling so useless and guilty!"

Beck bore Shanks' anger without saying anything.

"Imagine if our places were reversed and Makino would have been hurt in your absence, which I knew, but I didn't tell you! You would have hit me, but because it's me, irresponsible and unconscious Shanks, I have no right to be angry."

"I didn't say that," Beck replied, "I might have screwed up but I didn't put those words in your mouth."

Shanks had nothing to say to that; Beck had made a pretty valid point.

"So do you want our help or are you going to go it alone?" Beck asked, raising an eyebrow.

Shanks hesitated before deciding that his anger was mostly directed at Akainu and that he could never truly be angry at Beck. He placed his hand on his best friend's shoulder and smiled, "I thought you'd never ask."

Yasopp was waiting for them in the car when Shanks got in the passenger side and they headed together to the sleaziest photography center nearby. Shanks took advantage of the short trip to send text messages to the remains of his friends - his 'crew' - and divided the search groups into two: those who would help them question photographers in town and those who would find places where Mihawk could be held.

The first amateur photography center that the trio found was not the most welcoming because of the tags on the front. Shanks didn't care and strode in with two of his best friends behind him.

He wasn't happy at all when the photographer, a young man in his twenties with way too many piercings on his face, denied taking pictures of Mihawk.

"Are you sure?" he asked, placing a $100 bill on the counter.

The young man looked at the bill longingly but shook his head, "yes."

"Uh, that's a shame," Shanks sighed disappointedly before sitting down on the counter, "I really wish you'd given me some good news...Gab."

Gab looked from Shanks, a redhead with a scarred face and a missing arm, but kind enough and a friendly smile, to the burly old man and the one with the rasta haircut before gulping, "don't try to threaten me with your two bodyguards, I..."

Beck scoffed at that as he leaned against the counter, "why does everyone think I'm the baddest of us two?"

"Your face isn't friendly, I already told you that," Shanks laughed with a teasing smile.

"Still, out of the two of us, he hits the hardest," Beck admitted coldly, looking towards Gab as if he was sharing a secret, "and he's not one to stop."

Gab swallowed harder and his hands began to shake in fear.

"You really should talk," Yasopp advised from where he was juggling a camera.

"No! Don't play with that one, it belonged to my grandfather!" shouted the poor photographer who didn't dare run towards Yasopp because of Shanks and Beck blocking his way.

"Is it precious?" Yasopp asked curiously before his hand slipped and the device threatened to fall. Gab looked like he was about to pass out but Yasopp caught it at the last second and sneered, "oopsie, I'm pretty clumsy."

"Hey! Show it to me," Shanks ordered, motioning for Yasopp to throw him the device, knowing his friend, the object would fall straight into his hand without him having to make an effort but Gab didn't know this detail.

"No, stop!" begged the poor man, "I will tell you everything, I swear."

Shanks raised an eyebrow and pointed to Mihawk's photo again, "so did you follow him or not?"

"I did it! I did it… but the man who paid me said it was his husband and he suspected him of cheating. I didn't mean to hurt him, I swore!"

"Why didn’t you tell the police?" Beck asked with fake curiosity.

"I was scared because it didn’t seem to be a clean deal as I thought and the man paid me quite a lot and my mother is sick…"

Shanks signaled him to be quiet because he had heard enough, "what does this man look like?"

"I-I don’t know…tall, taller than your friend, and uh, his shirts have Hawaiian designs?"

"You're aking us?" Yasopp asked, placing the camera on the counter.

"No," Gab trembled, "he was wearing a Hawaiian shirt."

Shanks jumped off the counter after putting his phone and the bill in his pocket and ordered with a smirk, "buy yourself a conscience and call the police to tell them what you did, but don't mention us."

"Yes, sir," Gab murmured, relieved as he saw the three miscreants leaving his store.

"A Hawaiian shirt," Shanks laughed good-naturedly once they were out of the store and in the car, "that's pretty familiar."

Yasopp confirmed by pointing to his boss's pants, "your pants have Hawaiian flowers on them."

Surprised, Shanks looked at his capri pants where, indeed, there were little beige flowers on them, "oh, shut up," he muttered, sulking.

The trio continued to threaten the shadiest photographers - even managing to make the one who thought he was the toughest piss on himself - until Shanks received a text message from Doflamingo saying that he was ready on his side. So, the trio abandoned their mission to meet the crook at Akainu's apartment since the Marine lived close enough to the office to walk.

"This idiot doesn't even have underground parking," Dofly grumbled in welcome. He looked around to check if the street was empty before opening Akainu's pick-up door without having the key. Blondie got into the driver's seat as if he hadn't just committed a crime and Shanks said nothing because he was about to do worse. "At least his pick-up is new enough to have a built-in GPS," added the tall blond, removing the cigarette lighter to replace it with a black box connected to his phone, "you have thirty minutes, I'll have to do the bike too."

Beck had nothing to envy of Crocodile or Doflamingo as he knelt in front of the front door of Akainu's apartment and picked the lock in less than two minutes.

Shanks entered first, too excited about finding evidence to worry about the consequences of his actions. If Smoker or, better, Mihawk asked him, Shanks would deny any criminal activity with his best innocent smile. Besides, he had received authorization from Garp so he was acting under cover of the police, right?

Akainu's apartment was as boring as he was: the decor was minimal making the rooms impersonal, there were no superfluous personal effects like family frames, he owned an indecent number of Hawaiian shirts, and there was no Mihawk tied up and unconscious in the bathroom.

Beck and Shanks had toured the apartment - at least on the surface - and were looking for clues as to where Mihawk might be locked up when Yasopp called them to warned them that Akainu was in the elevator. They had to hurry out of the apartment and buy time for Dolfy if Akainu's next step was to get his car or bike.

So, Shanks told his best friend to hide behind the door leading to the stairs. Beck didn't agree, especially when he recognized the little glint in the red eyes, but he eventually obeyed otherwise Akainu would suspect that something was up. It would be a shame if Akainu called the police because he guessed that Shanks and Beck had illegaly searched his apartment. They didn't yet have enough concrete evidence to charge the lawyer.

He leaned against the wall next to the locked door and pretended to be bored - as if he had been waiting for hours for Akainu to come home - and forced his face to take on a surprised look when the older one was in front of him: " oh, you're finally here."

Akainu's gray eyes looked at him disdainfully for a split second before the lawyer retrieved his keys to open his door, "what do you want?"

"I want my husband back," Shanks replied, not trying to hide his true reason or losing his smile. However, his red eyes revealed the true nature of his presence here because they were too cold, too serious, and too unsentimental. It was a formal accusation and Akainu realized it too as he stopped to look at the red-haired menace.

On the other side of the door leading to the stairs, Shanks was sure he heard Beck facepalm in exasperation. But what had his best friend expected? Sure, Shanks was a smooth talker and a better spieler but he wasn't as good at coming up with a credible excuse in less than 15 seconds and he only said the first thing that came to mind. Moreover, he was tired of lies and pretending, he much preferred to lay his cards on the table.

"You know where he is," he accused, holding the older man’s cold gaze.

"Go to the police," Akainu replied, not caring about the accusation.

"So you’re really going to pretend you don’t know anything?"

Akainu shrugged, "I don't know anything except that desperation makes you say crazy things. Your head was never very straight before but it's gotten worse since your amnesia."

"There's nothing wrong with my head," Shanks replied, narrowing his eyes and then smiling innocently, "that's why Hawky likes it so much."

There, Akainu finally showed signs of weakness as his body subtly tensed, his grip tightening on the key in his hand.

"I forgot to thank you for being his friend during this year," Shanks added in a soft tone while he knew that he pressed where it hurt, "Mihawk told me about your friendship very carefully, saying that we owed you a lot for Sabo. I can't thank you more because then we were a little busy, you know?"

"I guess so," Akainu grunted.

Shanks sighed a little for the show, "I hope Mihawk returns to our family soon... If you have any information let me know, friends are supposed to help each other, right?"

He didn't wait for a response before starting to leave but was stopped by Akainu who had decided to counterattack: "you'll let me know when he's back. I can't wait to fill the void when you're not here. I have to admit that the taste of his lips is quite addictive."

Shanks tensed and his hand clenched into a tight fist at the implicit message that there had been more than a kiss which was not what Mihawk had assured him. And between Akainu who was trying to sow discord in their relationship and his honest husband, Shanks easily decided which version he believed.

"But his moans on the other hand…," Akainu continued with a wide smirk that disappeared quite quickly when Shanks turned to punch him in the face.

A shiver ran through his body and his joints cracked with pain, but god, how nice it felt to finally let his urges win. He had wanted to knock the smirk off Akainu's face the second he saw Mihawk get on his motorcycle and was happy that he finally got to do it.

His message now passed, Shanks joined Beck, then the others in the car. Doflamingo had received the GPS data from Akainu's car and bike, but had only had time to install the tracker on the pick-up. Failing to do better, they returned to Crocodile's office. Beckman and Yasopp only dropped them off there because they preferred to return to the company to coordinate their teams.

The meridian break was therefore dedicated to analyzing the GPS results as they hoped that Akainu had at least visited Mihawk once or twice with his vehicles, otherwise, they were in deep shit for lack of a better term. Thanks to the pick-up, they learned that Akainu had gone to the park on Sunday afternoon and to a factory a few minutes later which was the most incriminating evidence they had found so far, too bad it was not admissible before a judge, at least not in the state.

Additionally, Akainu had frequently visited a hotel park on the edge of town. According to Crocodile's research, the park offered "total rejuvenation in an idyllic setting of a lush forest" which, according to Doflamingo, was the ideal place to kill someone without being disturbed. Shanks was quite worried by Blondie's words, but the psychopath-to-be was certainly right: in a place like this, Mihawk could scream as much as he wanted, no one would hear him.

Above all, by researching the history of the park, they discovered that it had belonged to the government for around ten years, which explained why they had found nothing in Akainu's bank statements. Why would he pay when he could show his government membership card?

The only problem was that the park had poor GPS coverage and they lost track of Akainu before knowing the exact location of the cabin.

Shanks looked at the wall clock, seeing as they had been searching for over an hour, but that Akainu hadn't left his house yet. At least not with his pick-up. It couldn't be normal since the redhead had managed to annoy the lawyer, enough to make him take inconsiderate actions from which Mihawk could suffer unpleasant consequences.

Ah, so that was why Beck had glared at him and called him an idiot…

The redhead therefore decided not to waste any more time because he would force the owner of the park to give him the number of the chalet. It was the best they had and Shanks didn't want to lose Mihawk's track because Akainu might decide to move him.

Shanks was surprised when Crocodile followed him out of his office and out of the building to lead him to the park. He had expected that it would be Dolfy the psychopath who would volunteer but the angry ex would do the trick, he decided.

However, they were intercepted by Smoker before getting into the car. He was waiting for them in front of the building and blocked their path, "I knew you were up to something when you didn't show up this morning. My theory was reinforced when the police received a lot of testimony from a photographer who had suddenly regained his memory."

"Well done Sherlock," Shanks scoffed as he tried to pass, but was easily intercepted, "we don't have time."

"Do you have Silvers location?" Smoker asked without revealing any of his feelings.

"Yeah, that devil Akainu has him and I made him angry so…"

Smoker sighed before motioning for them to follow, "we'll be faster in my car."

It wasn't the first time all week Shanks had heard the police flashing lights, but it was the first time he found them useful as the cars moved aside to make way for Smoker to drive past as he was already over speed limits.

They arrived at the park quite quickly but were blocked by the owner who refused to help them.

"He took a bribe," Crocodile understood with exasperation as he approached the little bald owner to tower over him, "right?"

"I-I… No…," began the bald old man whose three-piece suit stood out against the green and rustic atmosphere of the park.

"If money is his thing there's no problem," Smoker decreed, exhaling the smoke from his cigar, "at least for us. We'll see if the bribes will be enough to buy him a lawyer when he is sued for failure to assist a person in danger."

The businessman's face turned pale and he seemed about to faint when Crocodile added nonchalantly, "we must not forget the loss of income when the tourists will stop coming. The park could even close... permanently."

"I'll give you the number, but don't tell the press," the old man begged before giving them a map where he had circled in red pencil a cabin.

The car shook as Smoker drove down a dirt road with holes and bumps, but Shanks didn't really notice because there it was: he'd found the culprit and was really close to being reunited with his husband. So they could drive on a road leading straight to the underworld and the redhead wouldn't care as long as Mihawk was waiting for him at the end. He therefore did not pay attention to the trees that surrounded them or to the famous idyllic setting referred to in the biography of the park. And the large chalet built of oak inspired him with nothing but flat indifference; he was not there for the architecture, but for a rescue mission.

"I won't ask you if you have a weapon," Smoker said to Crocodile as they walked up the steps to the cabin.

Crocodile cracked a smirk, "I won't say anything."

They gave Smoker the luxury of knocking on the cabin door and identifying himself, but no one answered him and Shanks felt his frustration growing because of this new obstacle in their path. Why couldn't anything be simple? Well, Shanks didn't expect Mihawk to open the door for them and fall into his arms, but still.

The unfortunate trio were very careful entering after Smoker had opened the door with a big kick like in the movies. The chalet was quite large and they preferred to separate to search each of the rooms for Mihawk or Akainu who must necessarily be there since his motorcycle was parked in front of the chalet and his leather jacket was thrown on an armchair. Crocodile decided to search the first floor alone and Shanks and Smoker divided the ground floor because there were a lot of rooms between the living room, the kitchen, the dining room, the library, the bathroom, and three other useless ones.

Shanks found nothing in the kitchen, literally, since the space was all furniture. It was the same in the dining room and laundry room, but Shanks found something quite interesting in the bathroom. A fairly familiar navy suit. He checked the name of the tailor which was Mihawk's and he recognized the cologne by lifting the white shirt to his nose. At least now he knew his love was there somewhere. But where ?

Lost, Shanks returned to Smoker who was taking care of the other part of the first floor. He was joined by an equally empty-handed Crocodile on the way. They stopped at the entrance to the library as they heard a deep, bored and familiar voice. It was Mihawk! Shanks ran into the room, but was disappointed to find only Smoker staring at a screen with great interest. The sound was coming from the computer and Shanks moved closer to see the images.

"Is it live?" asked Crocodile, approaching in turn.

"The time on the screen is correct," Smoker replied without taking his eyes off the small prison.

The room Mihawk and Akainu were talking in could only be described as a prison: it was small, but clean; simply furnished with a large bed at the back of the room, a table covered with food and two chairs, a kitchenette, and a toilet; and had no exterior windows. Shanks felt like a director checking out a horror movie set through the lens of a camera. After all, even if the room was clean, it was still a prison supposed to accommodate Mihawk for a long time if the bed, the kitchen and the toilet were proof.

His hatred against Akainu grew a notch because this man was beyond sick, he was crazy and sadistic.

However, Shanks felt a lot more anger and disgust growing within him when he finally listened to the conversation.

"Who hit you?" Mihawk asked with unfeigned curiosity from where he sat comfortably on a chair with a glass of wine in his hand. He looked visually good as he wore a gray tracksuit and a blue t-shirt, maybe a little disheveled, but he wasn't injured.

The honest curiosity in Mihawk's voice made Akainu hesitate from where he sat in the other chair. The scene looked so domestic as a convivial meal of chicken, beans and mash lay between the two. He still ended up responding with a lie, "just a pissed off client."

Shanks lost his smirk since he was the pissed off client in question when Mihawk worried, "That looks painful."

"Not really," Akainu replied, rubbing the bruise on his cheek.

"Too bad," Mihawk began, placing the glass on the table and getting up. He walked slowly and hesitantly around the table. And, as if this little effort had exhausted him, he sat on Akainu's lap with his arms encircling his neck, "I could have kissed it better."

"And Shanks?"

For once, Shanks agreed with Akainu: what about him?

What the heck was Mihawk doing ?

Was Mihawk declaring his love for... Akainu?

"Shanks who?" Mihawk asked seductively before leaning in to kiss Akainu.

But the older man stopped him with one hand cradling his cheek while the other possessively held his waist to keep him close, "you've changed your mind?"

"Maybe I did," Mihawk replied, still in the same seductive tone which, until now, had only been reserved for two people: Shanks and, a long time, Crocodile. "You've given me plenty of time to reconsider and maybe your offer isn't so bad, after all you've treated me well all this year."

"I knew you were a smart man and that you…"

Akainu was cut off by Mihawk who put his finger to his mouth, "stop talking and let me do it."

Seeing his husband willingly kiss someone else - his kidnapper - Shanks felt his heart being crushed by an anvil and his stomach twisting painfully, tears welling up in his eyes, and his hand closing into a fist tight enough to draw blood.

Shanks felt like he was going to implode if he continued to watch this nightmare, so he left the room.

Chapter Text

Chapter 20. Cheaters.

The advantage of being warned by Smoker and Rayleigh that he was going to be arrested was to prevent the children from attending. It wasn't an ideal situation or even one that Mihawk would have ever wanted, especially when he had asked Smoker for one more day, just one to be with his family, and then he would have surrendered, but he would do the best he could in the worst possible situation. So protecting the kids had been his first instinct, giving Rayleigh his wallet and slipping his phone into his sock had been another. His father had given him a look filled with disbelief before giving him advice on how not to lose his phone while walking or dancing.

At least he had the right to one last dance with his husband.

Thus, Mihawk regretted neither his rebellious action nor his lie - "my wallet and phone are in my coat pocket" - as Ace was calling him. Mihawk trusted Shanks to take care of their children but that didn't mean he would let himself be cut off from them; which went against the very principle of the hiding place he was locked in and the exact reason he had hidden his phone.

However, when Mihawk accepted the call, nothing could have prepared him for what he heard: "aagh! daaad, help!!"

The call was cut off before Mihawk could register what he had heard or promise Ace that he would come. He looked at his phone in a disbelief filled with worry since Ace was supposed to be safe with Shanks and not in danger. What had happened, exactly?

Mihawk blinked as notifications appeared with an address and a threat to come alone and not tell anyone else or his son would pay the price. His heart beating more with fear than anger, Mihawk motioned for Boa to join him. His feelings must have been written on his face because his little sister obeyed without complaint.

"I have to go," he whispered, showing her the notification. Boa's blue eyes widened when she realized that the text message was from the stalker rather than her nephew, but she remained silent so as not to attract the attention of Crocodile and Doflamingo who were with them. The two were flirting together because the blond had more fun annoying the older one rather than playing chess. "Can you distract them?" He asked knowing all too well that Doflamingo would want to accompany him for blood bait and Crocodile would try to protect him.

Boa was torn between preventing her brother from falling into the hands of a madman or letting him save Ace before the legendary solidarity of the Silvers struck. They might not always agree with each other's decisions, but they would always support each other, that was what Rayleigh and Shakky had taught them.

Mihawk had his hand on the doorknob when Boa called him, "Don't take too long in the bathroom."

"I'll be back soon," he promised because he hated the role of fragile victim that Smoker had confined him to and couldn't wait to put an end to this grotesque affair himself.

The unusual element in the apartment requisitioned by the police to keep witnesses of important cases or suspects safe was that the doors of the only bedroom and bathroom opened outwards rather than inwards. This system was probably designed to prevent suspects from locking themselves in the rooms.

The second thing Mihawk noticed was the cute piece of furniture lying around the hallway for decorative purposes only.

Mihawk had no trouble moving the furniture so that it was perpendicular to the door and it was almost long enough to touch the other wall. So even if his colleagues wanted to try to stop him from being reckless, they couldn't open the door.

"Mr. Hawkeyes?" Smoker's assistant asked in disbelief when she saw that he had moved the furniture to jam the door.

Mihawk didn't respond which prompted Tashigi to put her hand on the taser at her hip, but he was quicker. He was on the young woman in one stride, grabbed the taser with one hand, and placed his second on her mouth and nose to keep her silent. Reluctantly, Mihawk used his size and strength on Tashigi to hold her against his chest while he slowly asphyxiated her. To her credit, she tried to defend herself by kicking him or struggling to get the taser, but Mihawk was like a heartless machine.

"I'm sorry," he whispered when he felt Tashigi stop struggling, "but you won't stop me from saving my son."

Mihawk gently placed the policewoman on the ground once she was unconscious and, with the taser firmly in hand, fought his way to freedom. The three other police officers, disconcerted, did not dare to attack him and Mihawk took the opportunity to neutralize them. They stood no chance against the best swordsman in the world and soon Mihawk was standing in the middle of a ruined living room with three unconscious and bloodied police officers on his hands. He left them there without any remorse knowing that he hadn't hit hard enough to cause permanent injury and even stole a car key because he had to hurry to Ace.

He wedged his expensive suit jacket between the iron door and the door frame, unsure that it wouldn't close behind him forever and wanting to give his son a way out.

Mihawk entered the warehouse once he was sure the door was secure.

He didn't have to look far since the warehouse had been disused and empty for years, the last boxes present were covered in dust, and Ace's terrified moans guided him to them.

The first thing Mihawk's sharp gaze saw was his son, dressed in his orange sleeveless t-shirt and brown shorts, and tears streaming down his freckled cheeks. Only then did Mihawk notice the big man - even bigger than himself - hiding in the darkness of the warehouse. However, a faint beam of sunlight from the hole above them reflected on the stainless steel of a gun pointed at Ace's head; near enough for the shot to be clean, not near enough for Ace to feel the threat.

"You got what you wanted so stop hiding," he spat disdainfully as he forced his body to stay calm and not move, even though his only instinct was to protect his son. Only the gun dissuaded him from moving forward and only years of self-control helped him keep his voice strong and in control when all he felt was fear.

Fear of failing for the first time in his life.

Fear of not being strong enough despite years of training.

Fear of losing everything at this moment because if Ace died before his eyes and he made it out alive then Mihawk was certain that the next cut on his wrist will be deliberately too deep.

His stalker took a step forward to reveal his face and Mihawk felt his eyes widen in surprise as he noticed the military cut, the gray eyes, the scar, and the smirk. He had seen that face so many times this past year, whether at work or afterward during dates. He had even kissed those lips, once, once too many.

Maybe he deserved to hear Shanks' hurtful words after all.

"Surprised?" Akainu asked as it was an old joke between them; the elder would try to surprise the phlegmatic lawyer only to fail.

Mihawk raised an eyebrow that expressed all his disgust and hatred towards Akainu and himself, but did not mention it. Instead, he ordered, "Let my son go."

"Dad," Ace begged at that moment, "I'm sorry."

He knew it would be an act of weakness to break eye contact, but Mihawk didn't care as he looked toward Ace and tried to say in a look what he couldn't in front of Akainu.

It's not your fault. I love you. Trust me.

"Let go of my son," he repeated when Akainu didn't respond quickly enough, "he's not the one you want."

Akainu's smirk widened and an unpleasant light appeared in his eyes as he admitted, "No, but I won't take on the best swordsman in the world without leverage."

"Let Ace go and my life will be yours," Mihawk promised as he knew the weight of his words. Yet, he would sacrifice himself for any of his children.

"Da-d," Ace begged again because he largely disagreed.

Akainu tightened his grip on the struggling boy, "you may be a man of your word, but even you have your limits. You will attack me the second he is not between us."

"You hold all the cards," reminded Mihawk who was starting to regret not having recovered a gun from one of the policemen but he was a swordsman at heart and hadn't even thought about it.

"I have better," Akainu replied before nudging a bottle with his foot so that it rolled towards Mihawk, "drink the contents and I assure you that I will never harm your son."

Mihawk grabbed the bottle and unscrewed the cap to check the contents. The liquid was as clear as water and even smelled like it, but was it just water? Mihawk had no reassurance that nothing had been slipped into the water. Then, suspicious, he asked: "Why should I trust you?"

"You know why," Akainu replied, gesturing to the weapon in his hand.

Mihawk looked at Ace, still terrified, tears flowing freely from his wide eyes, then at the calm face of someone who knew he had won, and at the water bottle. He knew logically that there was something in there and while his heart and head's first instinct was to protect Ace, his body refused to drink a foreign and potentially dangerous drink.

He had gotten a good glimpse of Akainu's madness this past year, but also to how far the man was willing to go to make him fall into his arms. If Akainu felt that Mihawk was too out of reach then could he settle the matter once and for all? Could it be deadly poison in the bottle?

"I won't hurt you," Akainu promised with what looked like desperation - so the man could have feelings? - and added, "I knew you were meant for me the moment I saw you, baby bird."

"I was already in a relationship at the time so you really should have spared yourself unnecessary suffering," Mihawk replied in a scathing tone.

"No, we met long before, but I grant you, the moment was short and you were only sixteen years old. But I knew that I had to protect you and keep you close to me. This redhead is just an idiot who doesn't deserve you, and we met first."

Mihawk didn't liked the logic of "the first to find, keeps" because he was not an object. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but laugh because if Akainu wanted to go on that road then he would always lose: "unlikely, I met Shanks a few weeks after his birth. Did I forget to tell you that our fathers were like brothers?"

"Don't play smart," Akainu warned angrily, "and start drinking, I won't tell you again."

Finally, Mihawk sighed and knowing he had no choice, brought the bottle to his lips and began to drink.

He carelessly threw the bottle on the ground after emptying the contents and took a step forward, then another when Akainu didn't stop him. Mihawk felt wobbly as he walked, his head slowly, almost imperceptibly, filling with a thick white cloud, and as a highly trained athlete, he felt the second his body was forced to relax by an external force. Yet Mihawk ignored the effects of the drug on his body and mind to hug Ace when he had the chance.

Ace trembled against his father and clung to him desperately, whispering "I'm sorry" every two seconds.

"Shh, it's okay," Mihawk whispered, one hand on his son's shoulder and the other in his dark hair to comfort him, "I'm not mad. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I’m going to get you out of here, okay?"

Ace nodded even though he was still crying.

"I left the door open for you, so I want you to run as fast as you can at my signal."

"But…," Ace began, unsure if he could follow this order.

"I'll be right behind you," Mihawk lied easily because it was his job to lie when necessary and it was up to Ace to obey, "you don't stop running until you're with dad, okay?"

Ace nodded feverishly and Mihawk rewarded him by hugging him tighter to give him courage. Then he kissed his son's forehead and stood up with difficulty. Mihawk frowned as he felt his hands shaking, his legs growing weak, and his vision blurring. The drugs worked faster than he thought; they were running out of time.

"Rejoice, baby bird, we can be a family," Akainu said proudly.

"In your dreams," Mihawk thought before pushing Ace out of the way with one hand and grabbing the weapon with the other.

He pushed with all his weight against Akainu to destabilize him and shouted to the scared boy, "Run!"

Seeing from the corner of his eye that Ace was obeying him, Mihawk was able to focus on Akainu and he struggled as best he could to retrieve the weapon. Although he despised this weapon made for cowards and police officers, Mihawk could recognize its usefulness and would very much like to be the one who held it. Except Akainu had recovered faster than expected and his hand tightened on the gun while the other hit Mihawk in the stomach. He didn't even recognize the blow to his side and responded with a kick to the knee, making Akainu wince in pain.

The two lawyers fought like madmen to recover the weapon until Mihawk's second hand fell on Akainu's fist to pull with all his strength on the gun and he unintentionally triggered it.

The blow echoed loudly through the huge, empty space, and Mihawk's overloaded eardrums suffered.

Fortunately, the gun was pointed at the ceiling.

Mihawk still froze, afraid of his own action and what could have happened.

What if the gun had been pointed at him? Or worse? Toward Ace? What... What could he have done?

He wasn't the only one as Akainu looked at him with the same surprise in his eyes and Ace had stopped running.

"Dad?" the boy called hesitantly as his hand was on the door.

Mihawk didn't turn away from the threat as he ordered, "Get out of here! Now!"

His voice faltered at the end of his sentence because Akainu had taken the opportunity to punch him in the stomach again and, this time, Mihawk noticed the searing pain in his right side. He held back his moan because he didn't want Ace to hear it and come back to help him.

That wasn't how it worked: Mihawk was the father, he made the sacrifices, and Ace, the child, had to put his young life first.

The door finally opened and the sun dazzled the place.

The gun fell to the ground now useless as the drugs won over the adrenaline and Mihawk sank into the waiting arms of his captor.

The door closed and the darkness won.

However, Mihawk smiled victoriously before passing out as Ace had managed to escape.

***

He wishes it was just a horrible, awful, and long nightmare from which he would wake up, panting and with his heart pounding with disappointment at having failed again to catch his husband...

...

He wishes he were back to those lazy Sunday mornings before Zoro and his workouts joined them and where Mihawk had nothing to do but hear the chaos downstairs because he did not have the strength to get up from the couch...

...

He wishes to wake up from this nightmare in the strong and loving arms of his husband. He swore that if he got through this and if Shanks' return wasn't a hallucination, he would no longer complain when the human furnace clung to him in the summer like he was his personal teddy bear...

...

...He wishes it was just a horrible, awful, and long nightmare from which he would wake up, panting and... wait, he'd already thought that, right?

Mihawk blinked tiredly as he lost his train of thought again. He felt like his brain had been transformed into a giant ball of yarn with thread so frayed that he couldn't hold it long enough to think coherently. If having a coherent thought was already hard then thinking logically was impossible which was probably the goal sought. He could never come up with an escape plan if he forgot every thought after a minute.

The problem wasn't just in his head, but in his body as well. The muscles he had spent so many hours building were now as useful as jelly. Yet even though Mihawk felt light, his body was as heavy as a ship's anvil. He had been lying on his side since waking up and didn't have the strength or will to move.

However, Mihawk didn't need to think to know that he couldn't just do nothing. He needed to get moving, find a way to clear his head and get out of there while he was alone and unsupervised.

So he gritted his teeth before using his hands tied to the bedpost to lift himself up. The simple act of getting up left him breathless, his body protested violently and when he had succeeded in his mission it was only to have forgotten what he had to do.

Mihawk blinked weakly, trying to figure out why he would have made this pointless effort, and then his troubled gaze fell on the ropes that held him and he remembered.

He didn't need to think or move much to detach his first hand because he let his instincts dictate his actions. Pulling the rope with his teeth, a flick of the wrist and his second hand was free too. It wasn't Akainu's fault for trying to tie him up in tight, intricate knots, but he was still a lawyer.

There were advantages after all to having grown up in a sailor's family. Mihawk was sure he remembered the lazy evenings at Shin Sekai when his mother was at work - or so they believed at the time - and Rayleigh was teaching him to untie himself in the crazy scenario where child Mihawk would one day be kidnapped. It was a weird pastime between father and son but Ray had always taught him to defend himself and knowing how to break away was part of the training.

And then there was the summer vacation spent with the Golds because his father and Shakky worked too hard to take a vacation but they insisted that Mihawk go and have fun. The 12-year-old didn't really understand the fun of having to share a bed with Buggy kicking in his sleep and Shanks taking up all the space; Mihawk was sure he had swallowed red hair while he was sleeping. But Roger had insisted on teaching him how to tie knots as he had done to his sons before without ever knowing that this noble art would be used in BDSM scenes. Well, nothing was less certain for Buggy but Shanks always gets hard quickly whether it was when he pinned Mihawk in an impossible and uncomfortable position or when he guided him step by step to tie him up.

Mihawk would never have believed in a billion years that his father's morbid foresight or his husband's lustful kinks would ever come in handy.

And now he had to go... to the toilet which was super far away… right.

Mihawk fell miserably to the floor when he tried to get out of bed. He had forgotten how heavy his body was and how full of ants his legs were. Was it possible? Probably or not. Mihawk didn't know, in fact, he didn't know anything anymore except that he had to go to the bathroom, that his legs were shaking furiously, and that his head was made of that pink cotton candy that Chopper was always trying to eat.

He tried to get up to walk, but failed pathetically and decided he couldn't fall any lower and began to crawl. If he had his right mind, Mihawk would have preserved his honor and stature by going back to bed until the dizziness passed, except that his pride had already been lost somewhere in a dark place and his head was completely messed up.

Once he reached the toilet, Mihawk remembered his goal long enough to lean his head into the clean bowl and stick his fingers in his mouth to force himself to vomit. It was when his gag reflex refused to come and Mihawk had to actually push his fingers further down his throat that he realized the downside of years of blowjob. Mihawk wished he could blame someone except he couldn't remember his name anymore. Shit, what was his first boyfriend's first name? It had something to do with an animal, right?

Mihawk lost his train of thought again when he finally began to vomit, his guts clenching around nothing, his stomach rebelling until it was painful, and his back arching in retaliation. Yet, despite the pain and retching that disgusted him, Mihawk forced himself to vomit far beyond what he could physically bear and until his head was less cottony.

Exhausted, he leaned his head against the cold earthenware to calm his overheated skin and catch his breath.

He would have fallen asleep if he could, but he didn't want to arouse Akainu's suspicions. Well, Mihawk was sure that Akainu was spying on him in some way. Unless he had become as paranoid as Rayleigh? In any case, the smell and the feeling in his mouth disgusted him enough to convince him to move to find water.

Without the unpleasant feeling, Mihawk could have fallen asleep because he was the father of three boys prone to getting sick easily. Nothing could be worse than the flu epidemic they got last year. The vicious circle wanted each of the children to get sick in turn until he passed it on to Shanks who was the worst patient Mihawk had ever known. His husband was a real baby when he was sick.

A small victorious appeared on Mihawk's white lips when he managed to remember that the epidemic had not stopped at Shanks and Luffy, but at him. He had even gone so far as to sign a waiver allowing Shanks to let him die as long as the flu went away with him; Mihawk had preferred to meet the Creator rather than endure another week of caring for sick and whiny children. But Shanks had laughed, called him a drama king, which really wasn't nice because Mihawk had a 40°C fever at the time, and pampered him, without ever kissing him, until the flu finally went away from their home.

Invigorated by this memory, Mihawk managed to force his legs to cooperate. It was easier now that he could think. It still wasn't enough to come up with a plan and his muscles were still limp, but Mihawk managed to get up and walk towards the kitchen which was more than enough for now.

He opened the fridge door, saw bottles of water there, shuddered at the unpleasant memory, and closed the fridge. It wasn't because the caps hadn't been opened that Akainu wouldn't have managed to put something in them and Mihawk really didn't trust water bottles anymore. Then he turned his attention back to the sink. Again, he didn't trust the transparent water that flowed there, but having no choice, Mihawk rinsed his mouth and spat out the water without swallowing anything. He couldn't ingest drugs again if he didn't swallow, could he?

Mihawk really, really needed to keep his head clear or he would never get out of here.

He stood against the wall and walked on shaky legs back to bed, but at least the position was much less degrading.

Mihawk collapsed into the bed exhausted after this journey that should not have been one. His heavy breathing, the pain in his muscles, and the sweat on his forehead were unworthy of the best swordsman in the world. But he didn't have the strength to disappoint himself and preferred to close his eyes and sleep.

***

Mihawk woke up some time later to the sound of the iron door slowly opening. He stood up from his lying position by ignoring his body which was begging him to rest because it was so exhausted. But Mihawk ignored his own need and settled into a defensive position: his legs pressed against his chest, his arms encircling them, and his chin resting on them. He knew better than to attempt an attack or run when he was unable to walk a small distance, but he still wanted to make Akainu understand that he didn't want to be there.

Mihawk remained in his tight little ball as he watched Akainu walk around the furnished room until he reached the bed.

"I brought you something to eat," Akainu said in his gruff voice, "you must be hungry."

This was the height of underestimation because Mihawk wasn't hungry, he was starving. He had no idea how much time has passed between Saturday night and now, because it could have been a few hours as well as months. Who knows how long Akainu had been keeping him medically unconscious in this small prison? In any case, Mihawk's stomach was so empty that it had stopped gurgling and was clenching painfully on nothing.

Mihawk now regretted having eaten almost nothing the week before his capture and he promised himself not to be choosy the next time Shanks wanted to go to Luigi's. He would literally kill for risotto; preferably Akainu.

However, Mihawk did not pounce like a hungry dog on the sandwich that Akainu placed on the bed with chips. By the smell, Mihawk knew it was his office favorite - chicken alfredo - because he noticed the familiar packaging. Nevertheless, his menacing golden eyes remained fixed on his captor without blinking, speaking, or even expressing a single feeling.

"You should eat," Akainu repeated becoming more and more frustrated at Mihawk's bored look, "there's nothing in it."

"Of course," Mihawk thought bitterly without paying any attention to the sandwich.

"Alright, keep being stubborn. We'll see how long you last without eating or drinking. You're not as strong as you think, that's why you're here. It's for your own good. To keep you safe from yourself and others. It's the most beautiful gesture of love I could do for you."

"Don't confuse love with possession, moron."

Akainu sat next to Mihawk on the bed and he raised his hand as if to touch the younger's knee but changed his mind at the last second, "this is love," he gestured to the prison, "my love for you. I love you and I know you love me too. That's why you joined my company, why you kissed me, and why you asked me to drive you all week. You know you can count on me."

This time, Mihawk almost rolled his eyes and he barely restrained himself from saying: "Shanks was jealous of you so I had fun pissing him off a little more. My heart belongs to him."

"I wish the kid was with us so you had someone with you. I wanted us to be a family," Akainu didn't notice the little fluctuation on Mihawk's face, although Shanks would have noticed it. "This place could be a new beginning for us. I plan to gradually give you back your freedom once I am sure that you will not fly away. We need to trust each other," added the eldest, bringing the sandwich nearer to Mihawk.

Except, that Mihawk continued to stay silent and took no interest in the tempting smell which was real torture and Akainu finally gave up. He got out of bed, muttered "you'll change your mind soon," and left, slamming the door behind him.

Once alone, or as much as he could be, the golden gaze rested on the sandwich with so much desire that Mihawk almost salivated. He was so hungry that his stomach physically hurt. Yet what choices did he have?

Calm his stomach by accepting this gift and thus prove to Akainu that he was right, let Stockholm syndrome enter him at the same time as the chicken, and maybe even drugs?

Or refuse the present, remain obstinately stubborn and true to himself, even if it means losing a little more strength every day?

"The hunger is in your head, not in your stomach," whispered a voice in his mind that sounded suspiciously like Rayleigh.

His father could be a real bastard during training, pushing his son beyond the limits by preparing him for the worst scenario and fighting the worst of enemies. But his father had never gone so far as to actually starve him. Ray had said this line in jest after they had stuffed their stomachs at the local Burger King in the hope that the fast food would keep Mihawk, 12, from thinking about the boxes piled up in the car and why they had to move.

However, Mihawk, 33, still decided to follow this advice and pushed the sandwich out of bed. A vicious cramp took its revenge and Mihawk lay down in the bed, covering his chilled body with the duvet, and he let his head fill with an old pleasant memory.

"The hunger is in your head, not in your stomach," Rayleigh said menacingly as he himself sipped a beer, unable to finish his third whooper.

Young Mihawk shook his head because he felt like he was going to overdose between the whooper, the box of nuggets, and the glass of Ice Tea. He hadn't eaten so fatty since he was eight years old and the start of his intensive training which was accompanied by a strict diet.

"But I’m going to explode!"

"I don't care, finish this damn box of nuggets so I can buy you an ice cream, Champ."

Mihawk knew his arguments would all fall on deaf ears and he forced himself to finish his remaining three nuggets.

"Are you bribing me with food?" he asked shyly, playing with the vanilla Sunday in front of him.

"Why would you think that?"

Mihawk shrugged his shoulders a little and didn't dare look into his father's ocean-blue eyes, "we're moving near the Golds to live with your ex and your secret child. You'll be with your brother, your old/new girlfriend, and your little daughter, very cute and intelligent. I… I have the impression that you are forcing yourself to take me because Mom had already left… I am sorry that you are left with me on your hands," added the kid as he stabbed his spoon a little more into his ice cream which was beginning to look like a white soup.

Rayleigh looked at his son from his slumped shoulders, his sad eyes since his mother left a month ago and which he tried to hide under his black bangs, and his hand which had almost never let go of Yoru's case since the beginning of the journey. So, he sighed, stood up, and asked softly, "Can I move Yoru?"

Mihawk hesitated before nodding and forced himself to let go of tYoru. He didn't flinch when Rayleigh sat down next to him and, despite his doubts, he leaned against his father, comforted by the strong arm that fell on his shoulder.

"You know that Hinata and I met again to sign the divorce papers?" Rayleigh asked enigmatically and continued when Miahwk nodded a little, "she wanted the house and almost all of my bank account, which I agreed to."

"Whyt?" Mihawk asked softly, lifting his head to look at his father, but the blue eyes were already on him.

"I don't care, it's you who matters the most. So, no, I didn't end up with you in my arms because I want you there."

Mihawk frowned again and he repeated, "why?"

"Can’t you guess why?" Rayleigh teased with a smirk at seeing his intelligent son suddenly so helpless.

"...You invested too much in my training and want to enjoy the results?"

"Screw your training," Rayleigh replied with a smile, hugging him tighter, "you're everything I've ever wanted: a healthy, intelligent son who accepts that an old crook like me teaches him things. No matter what you do, no matter where you are, I will always be proud, support, and love you, okay?"

The boy's smile finally reappeared after a month of absence and, his cheeks red and his chest bulging with pride at being his father's son, he settled comfortably against Rayleigh's side.

"So home is you and me?" he asked anyway to be sure he understood.

Rayleigh grinned devilishly before dipping his finger into the vanilla ice cream and smearing the cold liquid over his son's nose making him scream, "you got it!"

***

A moan escaped his throat.

He was disgusted.

His lips parted to welcome the tongue into his mouth.

He fought the urge to vomit.

His left hand tightened on the Hawaiian shirt while his right searched... searched... searched…

He didn't know who he hated more between this man and himself.

Certainly, himself.

His right hand closed around the handle of the long knife and Mihawk silenced all the uncertainties that were going through his head.

His golden eyes opened again as he plunged the long blade of the knife into his kidnapper's stomach.

"There has never been an inch of me that had have loved you," he whispered with disgust against Akainu's lips before pushing the knife a little deeper to draw more blood.

Retrieving the knife caused Mihawk to stagger out of Akainu's lap from his momentum. He smiled even though he had to lean back against the table due to the sudden dizziness that hit him from the drugs that were back in his system.

Mihawk still didn't trust his captor when he pulled an expensive vintage out of his bag, but the wine was his weak point and he had trusted the cork. Except that the drugs weren't in the bottle, nor even in the glass that Akainu had handed to Mihawk, they were in the other glass that the younger one had demanded to have and that the older one had not hesitated to give. Akainu had been smart on this one, Mihawk realized immediately as he felt the cloud return to his head and his hand trembled on the glass as he tried to buy time not to drink his second glass right away.

Except his crazy plan had been a success.

True, Mihawk had to sacrifice his dignity by kissing his kidnapper, but he decided that it had been a small price to pay compared to the satisfaction of seeing Akainu's blood shed.

He had won that battle, but not yet the war noticed Mihawk's drug-stunted brain.

Unwittingly, he staggered backward as Akainu rose from his chair. Suddenly the man seemed gigantic, even bigger than a mountain. Yes, that was the right comparison: a mountain made exclusively of hard muscles and throbbing anger. Akainu's eyes were dark with rage and even the vein on his forehead threatened to burst.

"You shouldn't have done that," Akainu threatened in a cold, deadly voice.

Oddly, Mihawk tended to agree although it took too long for his blurry vision to realize that Akainu had moved forward. But the mountain bled which reduced him to mortal status and if Rayleigh had taught Mihawk one thing it was that anything that bled could be killed.

Then Mihawk tightened his grip on the knife, chased away the fog that was numbing his mind, and tried to hit again.

But Akainu easily closed the gap between them, Mihawk tried to defend himself by swinging the knife, but he was just a fly fighting with a toothpick against a stone monster. As much as Mihawk hated thinking of himself as a harmless and weak fly, he was forced to face the facts when Akainu grabbed his wrist. Once again, Mihawk did not say his last word and he struggled, trying to regain the mobility of his wrist. Akainu was bleeding, it was the perfect moment to finish him off, but the grip on his wrist was even stronger than steel and even worse...

Mihawk gasped in pain when Akainu's grip tightened further on his wrist but didn't let go of the knife. He tried to back away from his enemy but Akainu pushed him until Mihawk was pressed against the nearest wall.

His hand was still useless as Akainu violently slammed it against the plaster.

"I'll teach you respect," Akainu promised with a wicked smile.

"You can try," Mihawk spat, still fighting. With his second hand, he punched Akainu in the face, but the drugs and starvation prevented him from using his full strength. He then tried to kick his jailer's knees, but his movements were uncoordinated and weak.

Akainu chuckled before his hand came to cradle Mihawk's neck and squeeze, and squeeze, and squeeze.

Mihawk's eyes widened as his main source of air was easily cut off. Akainu's hand was so large compared to his pale neck, his palm covering his windpipe while his fingers pressed against his pulse point.

It was like turning off the water supply to a tap but a few drops of water continued to flow rebelliously.

Mihawk gasped for air and his lungs filled slightly, but each breath of air was a fight he wasn't sure he could win. Mihawk was not a plumber and only knew force so with his free arm he tried to move the hand away from his throat, but without success.

He struggled wildly, kicking aimlessly, but Akainu was older, taller, and heavier than Mihawk. On any other day, perhaps the fight would have gone in favor of Mihawk, the world's greatest swordsman. Except that Akainu had cheated and Mihawk, drugged and starved, could not defend himself.

His feet weren't even touching the ground anymore, how unfair was this fight?

His desperate attempts resulted in him being pulled away from the wall before being suddenly pushed against the plaster again. Once, twice, and until Mihawk dropped the knife, moaned in pain, his vision blurred, and his head felt like it was split in two. He could feel the concrete behind the plaster which couldn't be a good sign.

Mihawk was ready to ask for a break and to get a fair fight when his back was pulled away from the wall again. He couldn't take one last blow, he was sure of it. Either his brains were going to spill against the plaster or the darkness that clouded his vision was going to win.

Except, instead of pushing Mihawk against the wall, Akainu moved them away from the dining area of the cell to the bed. And Mihawk couldn't even try to get away while his right arm was trapped between Akainu's chest and his back and his jailer's big hand still held his throat in a tight grip.

"You should never have fought me," Akainu lamented as they stood at the foot of the bed, his grip becoming almost loving like a caress on the pale neck and Mihawk was sure he was going to throw up, "we could have been a family. I could have made you happy, much more than that redhead could have. I thought that taking him away for good would be enough..."

If Mihawk's eyes widened it was not because of the lack of oxyzene this time, but because Akainu had just admitted his guilt. It was Akainu, it had always been Akainu. The engine sabotage, the stalker, the phone call, and the return of Sabo's biological parents. How blind and stupid had he been? To think that he had almost… they had almost… Shit.

Taken by his rage, Mihawk tried to fight one last time but it only took a pressure on his wrist, a silent threat to dislocate it, to make him scream painfully and force him to submit.

"You were supposed to love me willingly, but you chose to fight," Akainu sighed as if the next words would hurt him more than Mihawk, "and I will force you to love me."

Akainu threw Mihawk into the bed and once free, the youngest did not try to flee as he should have. He should have crawled out of bed, and tried to find something - anything - to fight with, except he was busy with something way more important right now. So, instead, Mihawk inhaled and exhaled loudly, filling his lungs with the air they had been so unfairly deprived of, and coughing lightly to catch his breath.

And, once Mihawk's vision stabilized and his lungs no longer felt like they were on fire, it was already too late.

Akainu was already on top of him, towering over him with his big hands and even bigger body. The mountain refused to budge or yield no matter how hard Mihawk tried to push him away, and before he knew it, a leather collar was hung around his neck.

Too tight, way too tight.

Mihawk's mouth opened wide in an attempt to suck in air, but the tap had been turned off again. No, sealed this time since no more water leaked. Mihawk inhaled desperately through his mouth, then his nose, but his breath remained stuck in his throat. The collar hugged his skin and pressed against his windpipe without failing in its mission to suffocate him because, unlike Akainu's hand, the little leather thing would not weaken, would not tremble, would not hesitate.

Mihawk's hands rose to his throat and his fingers clawed at the fragile skin in an attempt to remove the collar, but he couldn't get a good grip and he couldn't...

… he could not….

…. think….

...nor fight...

….he could not….

…. find a solution….

…because it didn’t exist….

… he could not…

... beg when he wanted to...

…and would if he could just….

…if he could just….

…Breathe, but…

….he could not…

…he could not.

The chest pressing against his back wasn't even enough to snap Mihawk out of his panic, as he continued to mutilate his throat to save his life. No, it was the big, hard bump pressing against his thigh that brought him back to the present, to the here and now, and to what was about to happen, as if the collar and the bed could lead to any other conclusion.

"I was hoping our first time would be romantic and sweet because you deserve beautiful things. Still, I have to say," Akainu's hands grabbed Mihawk's hips in a possessive, hard grip, "that seeing you squirm under me is even more… pleasant," he whispered in his prisoner’s ear.

Knowing that fighting was impossible, he had tried and failed too many times already, Mihawk stopped struggling against the collar. He collapsed lifelessly against the bed as the pressure became unbearable.

Mihawk let the darkness win, because it was already better than the alternative, that of letting Akainu rape him without being able to do anything about it.

He didn't know what awaited him on the other side, if this was the end of the torture or if it was just beginning. If Shanks and the kids will ever know what really happened. That he had tried to protect them until the end or if tit won't matter to them because, in the end, he still failed. Either way, Mihawk knew he was leaving the children in the right hand.

"Forgive-me, Shanks."

Mihawk's eyes closed and he lost consciousness as his sweatpants and boxers were pulled down to his thighs.

Chapter Text

Chapter 21. The drunken hero who saved the knight in shining armor.

All Shanks could see was red. Not the red of passion and love. No, his vision was filled with a red of the same hue as blood which vibrated violently of hatred, which was as hot as an inferno, and which was directed only towards a single point, a single person: the scourge of his existence.

Akainu who had fallen in love with Mihawk when he was just a child when he was a grown man.

Akainu who had believed legitimized in his love when Mihawk had joined the Shichibukai, while the youngest was only attracted by the teleworking, the location in East Blue, the salary, and the easily obtained extras.

Akainu who destroyed Shanks' first baby by sabotaging the Red Force.

Akainu who had kept him away from his boys and his husband, long enough for them to believe in his death.

Akainu who paid guys to beat up his husband, then photographers, threatened Outlook and Ener into interfering, who pretended to be Mihawk's friend, who used Ace to kidnap him, and who turned a basement into an artisanal prison.

Akainu who was towering over the unconscious and vulnerable form of his husband whose bare buttocks were on display.

In his anger, Shanks did not hear the four gunshots ringing past his ear and into the empty space. He didn't notice Akainu's large body being hit four times and staggering backward. Because his hatred for this man was so all-encompassing and paralyzing that he almost missed the most important thing.

Finally, Shanks came out of his stupor and ran into the room first. He grabbed the blood-stained knife from the floor, ran to where the worst event in the world could have taken place, and jumped into bed without even looking at the dying man. Akainu could die as he had lived, alone and in his vices, because Shanks would do the same thing: he would continue to put his husband's needs before anything else.

So, Shanks was cautious when he slipped the blade of the knife between the leather collar and Mihawk's neck. He didn't understand how such a small leather thing could cause so much damage yet the skin around it was bruised and swollen, Mihawk's face was turning purple, his lips were already blue, and his chest was moving slowly. Shanks couldn't believe that Akainu would be willing to fuck a dying person, but he easily remedied that by pulling the knife towards him until the collar was cut in half.

Compared to what he thought, Mihawk did not take a deep and saving breath since he did not even notice that the collar was on the bed and that he was now free.

So, beyond scared, Shanks patted Mihawk's back without any gentleness, "breathe," he demanded, begging desperately, "come on, breathe, love. Please, breathe…"

Finally, Mihawk obeyed. His eyes opened wide as he took deep breaths just like Shanks wanted, except the consequences weren't exactly what he had expected or ever wanted.

Mihawk's breath caught in his throat, his chest skipped a beat when his lungs didn't receive enough oxygen to work properly, and his heart rate went from calm water in a lake to a stormy ocean.

Mihawk desperately inhaled the air he so desperately needed again, coughing painfully from his sore throat, tears of frustration ran down his cheeks, his panic was not helping his already erratic breathing, drool was running down his chin to get lost in the little black hairs, and his exhausted body shook violently.

"Shh, you need to calm down," Shanks ordered softly as his hand began to trace small circles on his husband's back.

He wanted his gesture to be calming and loving to help Mihawk overcome his panic attack because it was really annoying and didn't help at all. Above all, Shanks feared that if Mihawk's panic worsened, then the elder would stop breathing completely and pass out again. So, filled with good attention, Shanks was surprised when Mihawk whimpered in fear and sought to move away from the contact a few seconds later.

Shanks smiled sadly before his hand left Mihawk's back to cup his sunken cheek and force him to look at him. His smile grew even sadder when he noticed that the eyes he loved so much were dilated and blurry from the drugs, but also wide with pain and filled with fear. Shanks still forced his voice to be soft and confident as he promised, "It's me, babe. It's Shanks. Your Shanks. Only the detective and Crocodile are with us so you're safe now. You're always safe with me, remember?"

The drugs must have slowed Mihawk's mind because his response time was delayed by a few seconds. Nevertheless, a glint of recognition finally shone in his golden eyes, a moan of relief emanated from his bruised throat, and he leaned his head towards Shanks' thick hand. The redhead sighed in relief and his fingers gently brushed the soft skin gratefully because he had succeeded.

Except Mihawk's breathing was still frantic, weak and erratic and his panic was still there although it had lessened now that he knew it was Shanks who was touching him.

So Shanks sat cross-legged before encircling Mihawk's back with his arm to grab his hip and he lifted him up easily. His hand brushed against another ringed one and Shanks understood why he was able to move Hawky's limp body so easily when his gaze fell on Crocodile's cold one. Together, they placed Mihawk on the redhead's lap, his limp head resting on his shoulder, and his back resting against the muscular arm to support him.

Shanks looked at Crocodile questioningly and the elder nodded once: the bastard was dead and neither of them would have anything to reproach themselves for. After all, it was Smoker who shot to protect Mihawk.

"It's okay, love," Shanks whispered in Mihawk's ear, still trying to soothe him, "you need to calm down and breathe slowly. Inside... and outside... take a cue from my breathing, alright?''

Shanks exaggerated his breathing on purpose and smiled proudly when Mihawk began to calm down. His panic attack was fading now that the eldest knew that he was no longer going to be raped and that he was safe with Shanks. The redhead's voice and his presence must have helped too, at least he hoped, because Mihawk clung weakly to his white shirt.

"Focus on my heart, it beats regularly just for you."

Mihawk was really far away since he didn't laugh at the cheesy retort. Instead, he focused on his breathing like Shanks had asked him to do. His breathing was less frantic than earlier, but that awful sound still came from his bruised throat with every inhale and exhale. Shanks tilted his head to look at the damage and felt anger rise within him again as he saw the fingerprints and the mark from the collar were already starting to appear as the pale skin marked quite quickly. There were also scratch marks with some slowly bleeding where Mihawk had tried to free himself.

"You're such a good boy for me," he praised with pride as he felt Mihawk's body relax against his, his panic officially gone, and his breathing finally becoming normal. To reward his incredible husband for obeying him so quickly, Shanks began to run his fingers through the black mop of hair, but stopped at an unpleasant sensation.

It wasn't the greasy strands, nor even the little knots that made him hesitate, but the viscous and hot liquid that he encountered along the way. Shanks quickly withdrew his hand when he felt the torn edges of a wound beneath his nails. And, a few seconds later, Mihawk grunted in pain, his face scrunching up, and he tried to move away by burying his head a little more against the redhead's shoulder.

Now that he was aware of this new injury, Shanks could see the blood on the grey sheets and Mihawk's blue tee-shirt. The same thick blood was seeping into Shanks' shirt right now.

"Crocodile," the redhead called worriedly, pointing to Mihawk's scalp.

The eldest must have also seen the blood because he was careful as he searched the dark hair for the wound. Crocodile gently moved the black strands out of the way so as not to cause more unnecessary pain to Mihawk who didn't even seem to realize that someone else was touching him. Crocodile stopped when he finally found the source of the blood, "he has a cut about three or four centimeters, it doesn't look deep, but it's bleeding a lot."

So that's why Mihawk was so docile if he was slowly bleeding out and his disoriented look must also be induced by the concussion in addition to the drugs.

Crocodile untied the purple scarf from around his neck before folding it and placing it over the cut to stem the bleeding. Once again, it took several seconds for Mihawk to register the pain signals coursing through him and he tried to move away from Crocodile, a mewl of discomfort leaving his lips. The elder sighed in affection rather than exasperation and kept his hand where it was.

For his part, Shanks smiled softly as he felt Mihawk seek his comfort. He was happy to finally have his husband in his arm after four days of not seeing each other, three of which Mihawk had been kidnapped. Shanks would have preferred that the consequences were different and that his dear husband had not been hurt, but Mihawk was alive which was the most important thing at the moment.

The pain must have slightly awakened Mihawk from his torpor as he whispered hoarsely, weak and hurt: "Z-zan-x…"

Shanks blinked and looked at Crocodile in confusion, repeating the word in his head for the meaning, until Mihawk pressed closer to him and his hand tugged at the shirt to get his attention.

"...Zanx," Mihawk tried again in frustration.

The redhead's smile became affectionate when he understood what a "Zanx" was; it was him. Mihawk tried to talk to him but couldn't because his injured throat made him lisp.

"Yes, love?"

Mihawk blinked tiredly before raising his bleary eyes to look at Shanks in confusion. And then, the eldest must have remembered that it was he who had spoken first as he added: "z-zowwy, Zanx."

Sorry, Shanks

"Hey, babe," he called softly, tightening his grip on Mihawk, "you have nothing to apologize for. None of this is your fault."

Mihawk shook his head so lightly that Shanks wouldn't have felt it if the eldest's head wasn't hidden under his neck. The usually eloquent lawyer opened his mouth, hesitated, and closed it again, unable to speak out loud the word that was stuck in his crushed windpipe. Annoyed, Mihawk gave a little kick to the handle of the knife next to them and Shanks finally understood.

"You'll need a lot more to fool me, babe. You didn't get me. I didn't believe in your act for a single moment. Right, Crocodile?" he asked with feigned cheerfulness as he felt Mihawk beginning to tremble in his arm ; it could have been from exhaustion if only Shanks didn't feel the tears staining his shirt.

"You're not a very good actor," the elder confirmed coldly although his eyes were filled with honest worry.

Mihawk shivered violently as a sob left his throat and he mumbled another, "zowwy," against the redhead's chest.

"Shh, shh, I never doubted for a second your love for me," Shanks promised before forcing a naughty smile onto his lips, "we all know here that I'm irresistible."

Despite his joke intended to relax Mihawk, Shanks was actually very serious. Earlier, he hadn't come out of the library angry at Mihawk, who was adapting as best he could to survive. No, he had been angry at Akainu for getting what he had wanted for so long and at himself for taking so long to save his husband. So Shanks had left the room to remedy this situation rather than remain a useless spectator.

He wouldn't let his husband humiliate himself any further.

Because Shanks knew Mihawk better than he knew himself and he was conscious that the elder was a secretive little shit who would have no regrets in using deviousness to achieve his goals. Hadn't Mihawk tricked Sengoku to gain advantages? Didn't the eldest always manage to get what he wanted from Shanks with a little smile and a raised eyebrow?

And even if Shanks would have had doubts, the way Mihawk's body had remained tense in Akainu's lap spoke volumes about what he really thought. The lawyer had looked more like Luffy when they were trying to make him eat vegetables than like a willing lover.

So Shanks had ransacked the cottage, pushing all the furniture to the floor and kicking open all the closed doors, until he found the cellar door which had been disguised as a cupboard. He hadn't expected to find a thick iron door with a number pad at the bottom of the stairs and it was that damn door that had held them back during the moments when Akainu easily dominated Mihawk. But Crocodile had reviewed Akainu's entire life all day and it only took him two tries before he unlocked the door.

Shanks suddenly tensed and snapped out of the flashback his fatigue had taken him into when Mihawk coughed loudly against him. The coughing fit lasted a few seconds and sounded like real torture even to Shanks' ears, which must have been even worse for the person who was coughing because Mihawk slumped against the redhead when he was done, completely exhausted. Shanks gently coaxed him, rubbing his lower back until he saw Crocodile's left hand brushing Mihawk's lower lip.

It was not the gentle touch of a longing former lover, but that of a friend dismayed by what he had seen, and Shanks felt the same concern when Crocodile showed him the blood on his finger.

The sound of footsteps echoed down the stairs at that moment and Shanks involuntarily tightened his grip on his injured husband. He knew they weren't in danger, not while Crocodile and his gun were with them, but his instincts were telling him to stay alert since Mihawk couldn't.

For good reason, Mihawk was starting to doze off although he was still breathing like Darth Vader; Shanks wouldn't share this thought out loud, but it was the best reference he could find to explain the difficult and painful breathing that was making his husband's body tremble.

"He needs an ambulance," Shanks whispered so as not to disturb Mihawk's restful sleep.

"They're already on their way. They don't want us to move him," Smoker guessed it was already too late for that when he saw the two husbands stuck together, "and he must not fall asleep," he added, shaking Mihawk's shoulder to wake him from his drowsiness.

They waited like this for five long minutes between Smoker who remained uncompromising about Mihawk's sleep, Crocodile who unfailingly held his scarf against the cut, Shanks who traced comforting circles on his husband's lower back, and Mihawk himself who was struggling with his painful breathing and failing to keep his eyes open for more than ten seconds.

And then, four paramedics came down the stairs, a stretcher between them. They installed Mihawk there after a quick check-up - particularly of his head and throat - and have convinced Shanks to let him go.

But the husbands did not stay apart for long, because Shanks followed them and got into the ambulance after assuring that he was indeed the husband; Mihawk had nodded at this confession, despite the pain that this small gesture must have caused him.

Their hands found each other easily, and throughout the journey, Shanks kept his eyes fixed on his husband who had finally been allowed to sleep, an oxygen mask covering half his face.

However, they were forced to split up when they reached the hospital because the doctors had to take care of Mihawk, and Shanks was left in a hallway with a stupid form to fill out. He was allowed five minutes to ruminate on his thoughts and worry about the extent of the injuries he had seen and those that had been hidden under the clothes. Then, the hallway was filled with their large, worried family: Beck, Boa, Shakky, and Rayleigh had arrived first, and they were soon followed by all six of the kids who had illegally rushed out of their schools to join them. Shanks then had to make a first full and detailed report to the adults, before diluting it for the children: the bad man was dead, Dad would be fine and they would all be reunited soon.

Shanks had judged that the children did not need to know all the details about Mihawk's health. Yes, their father was injured and they should be good for the next few days, but it was nothing life-threatening. At least that was what Shanks hoped for since he didn't know if the head injury was serious or not.

He had wanted to be as reassuring as possible, but the children, even Luffy, must have seen some of his concern because they sat quietly on the nearby chairs, talking among themselves. Only Ace didn't speak and Shanks could see that he was physically sick with worry for Mihawk. So he sat down next to his son, put his arm around his shoulder, and they all waited together for good news.

Dr. Trafalgar joined them almost two hours later to tell them the good news himself: Mihawk was well and he was resting in a private room. However, only one person was allowed to visit him so as not to overburden him, so the adults gave up their place to one of the children and after a long debate, they chose Ace. Perona, Uta, Sabo, and Zoro had all readily agreed to give up their places to the guilty boy, but Luffy had needed more convincing before agreeing to restrain his impatience.

A nurse then took Ace to Mihawk's room and Doctor Henry Trafalgar asked the adults to follow him. Shanks, who had suspected there was more to the situation than 'he's well', practically jumped out of his chair to follow the doctor, the rest of the Silvers family right behind him.

"How is my son, Henry?" Rayleigh asked impatiently once they were far enough away.

"He will be fine," nuanced the doctor who still wanted to reassure them, "his injuries are worrying, but not fatal, fortunately."

Unknowingly, Shanks let out the breath he'd been holding since he got into the ambulance. He felt like his head was underwater all this time and he could finally catch his breath. All the same, he listened with concern to the assessment that Dr. Trafalgar gave them with severity.

"Hawkeyes situation is quite complex," Henry began, pushing his glasses up his nose. "He has a head trauma due to a long cut on the scalp. We have already done a cranial scan and the results are positive: Hawkeyes has no internal bleeding and does not need emergency surgery. The bad news is that he has a severe headache and nausea. We noticed confusion when we asked him questions due to a slight memory impairment and difficulty thinking. These are symptoms of a concussion and of a lack of oxygen that we will have to monitor throughout the night. The second thing that worries me is his throat. I preferred to let Hawkeyes rest for the night before giving him a new scan. To the touch, I noticed that his throat was already starting to swell and that the collar bruised his windpipe. The best would be to limit his speaking as much as possible for the next few days. Finally, the third thing is that his captor drugged him during the last three days and much of it is still in Hawkeyes's system."

"That's all?" Boa asked worriedly because she too felt guilty for letting Mihawk go instead of holding him back.

"Hawkeyes also has some bruising on his ribs, he's slightly undernourished and dehydrated, and his wrist is sprained, otherwise you're aware of all his injuries," Henry replied looking strangely towards Shanks.

But the redhead didn't really notice the look, his relief was so great: Mihawk would be fine despite a list of fairly significant injuries. Relief appeared on the faces of each of them, everyone had imagined the worst in recent days and they finally felt the pressure come off their shoulders.

Learning about the damage Akainu had caused was not a good moment, far from it, but Henry was the family Doctor because they all trusted him. If Mihawk's injuries had been fatal or would have caused permanent damage then Henry would have already told them.

Especially since Shanks had imagined the worst scenarios where his husband would have been tortured for the last three days, but, at least, being drugged prevented Mihawk from angering Akainu by trying to escape. Smoker had been right in the end: Mihawk had fought and paid the consequences. If Mihawk had waited five more minutes then maybe he would have been able to return home tonight or Akainu would have used him as a human shield.

Shanks shivered in fear at all the scenarios that could have happened.

However, the doctor remained just as severe when he added: "You must understand that this night may be the worst that Hawkeyes will ever experienced on a physical level. His injuries are not complementary and they are blocking us. Usually, I would have advised a stomach enema to remove the drugs from his system except that it would involve putting a tube down Hawkeyes's throat. I refuse to put him through any further trauma so we will have to wait for the drugs to wear off naturally from his system. So I can't give him medicine to ease his pain at the risk of creating dependence. And we'll have to keep him from falling into too deep a sleep by waking him up every hour and ask him questions."

"So basically, Mihawk has the worst migraine of his life, his throat is going to make him suffer torture, but you can't give him anything because of the drugs," Shakky concluded worriedly for the well-being of the son she had perhaps not given birth to but who was still hers.

Henry nodded darkly, "that's why I'm going to allow Shanks to stay with Hawkeyes for the night. Your husband will need you."

"I'll be there," Shanks promised, grateful for the opportunity to help Mihawk through this, "thank you."

"Actually, I have other things to share with you in private," the doctor added, motioning for the redhead to accompany him to his office.

Shanks shared a look of incomprehension and doubt with the rest of his in-laws, but didn't hesitate before following the doctor. He desperately wanted to know the information that was too important to share with the rest of Mihawk's family. So, Shanks sat in the chair without feeling comfortable out of fear of what Henry might say to him.

There was only one explanation that Shanks found and he really hoped he was wrong, because the consequences could be awful. After all, Shanks had seen Akainu dominate his half-naked husband and he really hoped he had saved Mihawk in time. Yet, three days was a long, long time, and there was nothing to assure him that the degenerate man hadn't taken advantage of Mihawk while he was drugged and unconscious. Shanks knew that his husband, so strong, so brave, would have a hard time recovering if he had been forced into the worst vulnerable position in the world; if he had been raped.

Shanks could already imagine the consequences of this act: Mihawk's characteristic confidence would be broken, he would no longer want to be touched, and would have an even harder time recovering from the whole ordeal in general. He knew that his couple would experience another terrible ordeal since their beginning if Akainu had raped Mihawk. Still, Shanks vowed to be there every step of the way, to not take it personally if Mihawk pushed him away, and to prevent him from closing in on himself.

So, Shanks was taken aback and extremely relieved when Henry asked him, "Did you know that your husband self-harmed?"

"Yes," Shanks replied, blinking before elaborating: "he used to cut himself when he was younger, between the ages of 18 and 20, but he hasn't done it ever since."

Shanks was no longer so sure of his answer when the doctor frowned, "I see… can I ask you a prying question? Have you seen your husband naked since your return?"

"Um, well," Shanks laughed nervously as he was caught off guard by this question, "we didn't... you know? But I saw his half-naked body and he doesn't have any new cuts. "

"Well, I'm sure this won't be the first time you've been told this, but your husband is pretty smart. Mr. Silvers has started cutting himself again. You won't have noticed since the cuts are all hidden under his boxers. The nurse counted ten on each of his thighs. The two most recent ones worry me because of their depth and width. Do you know why your husband would hurt himself?"

Shanks was hesitant to share one of his husband's secrets, but Henry was the family doctor, so he finally admitted: "Seeing his blood shed always made him relax. He's a swordsman, sharp objects are his whole life. When he was young, it was because of his loneliness. Today, I guess it's because of everything Akainu put him through." He hesitated again and his shoulders fell as he added, "We fought last week, maybe that's why he cut himself deeper."

Henry nodded to show he understood before retrieving a card from a drawer and handing it to Shanks, "I won't teach you anything, but this behavior is not okay. Your husband needs to talk to a professionnal. Maybe it will do you some good too."

Shanks looked at the card to read the name of a psychiatrist and put it in his pocket gratefully.

"I was wondering something too," Shanks added before Henry could invite him out, "were you the one who gave Mihawk the sleeping pills?"

"Yes, I did after Rayleigh told me about his son's sleeping problems. He said that Mr. Silvers had night terrors since you disappeared and that he had passed out at his work. I never heard back about it and wondered if Mr. Silvers had sleep difficulties again."

Shanks nodded his head as he struggled to find his voice at the realization that the situation was worse than the children had told him. Mihawk had therefore managed to keep some secrets if Ace and Sabo had never known about the night terrors or the fainting.

"I don't think they work," he finally admitted before listing the symptoms he and the kids had seen.

Doctor Trafalgar checked something on his computer before nodding and giving a scientific explanation for sleepwalking and panic attacks: "I based the strength of the pills on the weight that was recorded in your husband's records. This data is now obsolete since we changed it yesterday. Now, it seems that your husband lost fat in your absence, but he gained muscle which offset his weight. However, I had taken into account that Mr. Silvers was an athlete in my calculations"

"I don't understand…?"

"Well, the dosage of these pills is based on the patient's weight, especially their body fat. Except, that the dosage I prescribed is too high compared to your husband's actual weight, which caused the side effects that you described. The less sugar your husband consumed, the worse the side effects became."

"So Mihawk is… too thin," Shanks understood with a frown, because 'thin' wasn't supposed to be an adjective used on the best swordsman in the world.

"He has lost weight," Henry confirmed before adding gloomily, "and the current situation isn't going to help him gain any. Mr. Silvers won't be able to eat anything solid for a few days and it won't be the food from the hospital which will make him gain weight."

Well, Mihawk was officially his little shrimp and the eldest wouldn't be able to complain about it anymore. Shanks really tried to see the good side of it, but he guessed all too easily why Mihawk would have lost his appetite or gotten lost in his training. He had already disturbed his love's sleep, he would never have believed he was responsible for hos loss of appetite too.

"For once, I will advise your husband to eat fat," the doctor joked before continuing more seriously, "I can prescribe a new dosage for Mr. Silvers."

"There won’t be any more side effects?"

"No, they will be more adapted to his actual weight this time."

Shanks hesitated because he hated those pills with a passion, but he also couldn't stop Mihawk from getting the help he needed to sleep. So Shanks sighed before accepting.

He was about to ask the question that worried him earlier when the door burst open and a teenager ran into the room, chased by a younger one. He took refuge near the doctor and complained loudly: "He’s bothering me!"

A familiar laugh taught to Shanks who was the troublemaker. He still turned his head to see Luffy and scolded him without the slightest trace of amusement in his voice: "Luffy! Apologize, now."

The boy hesitated, unaccustomed to being argued by Shanks, before apologizing to the teenager whom the redhead now recognized as Law, the doctor's son. Nevertheless, the kid still grabbed the hand Shanks offered him to guide him out of the room.

Before leaving, Shanks still turned to the doctor one last time to ask, "Was Mihawk... touched somewhere wrong?"

Henry stopped talking to his son to smile softly at the worried redhead, "no, don't worry about that."

"Thanks, doc," Shanks murmured with relief before walking out of the office.

As he walked alongside Luffy, whom he had soothed with a candy bar, Shanks mentally prepared himself to be the pillar Mihawk would need. He appeared serene as he wished the children good night and swore to the Silvers that he would call at the slightest problem. And then, feeling ready, Shanks entered the dark, silent room and settled into the uncomfortable chair to watch over the sleeping form of his husband.

Looking towards Mihawk who was sleeping peacefully despite the bandages around his head, neck, and right wrist, or even the nasal cannula that helped him breathe, Shanks decided that Perona was right.

In their relationship, Mihawk was the knight in shining armor. He was strong, resilient, and loved sharp swords. In Shanks' eyes, Mihawk was also his king whom he lived to serve. His devotion was not a problem for Mihawk, since he liked to be looked at, especially if it was by Shanks. Except that even the strongest knights could fall and need protection. In those rare cases, Shanks always hoped that Mihawk would let himself be seen at his worst and helped to get back on his feet.

Except that for Mihawk being helped meant being weak and, even though they had been dating for over ten years, he still had trouble admitting his needs.

Shanks was then extremely grateful to have been allowed to sit in that uncomfortable chair and watch over his husband all night. He wasn't alone in this task since a nurse managed the medical side - waking up Mihawk, asking him questions, and leaving a few minutes later.

However, around midnight, Shanks began to regret the extra help. He understood that she had other patients to look after and that she was overwhelmed, but he didn't like the way she would suddenly open the door, turn on the lights to wake Mihawk from his drowsiness and ask him questions before he was mentally with them. The nurse was also quite impatient since she sighed whenever Mihawk took too long to write his answer in a notebook and she became even more frustrated when he got it wrong.

The redhead's regret was nothing compared to what Mihawk must have felt. The eldest was an introvert by choice, because he didn't like the rest of the population very much and clearly preferred silence to crowded spaces. And his tendency to disdain the rest of the population increased when he was tired or injured. Yet, right now, Mihawk was both.

So, Shanks' heart ached in his chest when he noticed that Mihawk had turned around at some point during the night. Instead of being on his back, the eldest was now curled up on his side, his back to the door while he was turned towards Shanks. The blue blanket was pulled up to his chin and his left hand hid his face.

"You'll sleep better on your back," the nurse advised in that passive-aggressive tone and waited until Mihawk obeyed before slamming the door.

The noise reverberated throughout the room and made Mihawk shiver in pain, who waited barely two seconds before settling back onto his side and pulling the blanket even higher over his head.

His heart beating with sympathy for his poor husband who deserved to be pampered after spending three days in hell, Shanks decided he had to intervene. He stood up from his chair with relief as his butt was starting to hurt, kissed Mihawk's forehead in a silent promise to return, and left the room to talk to the nurse.

Fortunately, Shanks was an extrovert with a charming smile and he had no trouble convincing the overbooked nurse to let him take care of Mihawk. Against all expectations, the poor woman apologized for her abruptness, explaining that they were outnumbered. She even gave him an extra blanket when he explained that Mihawk shivered from time to time.

Shanks didn't sit back down on the uncomfortable chair after covering Mihawk with the second blanket. Instead, he sat in the small 'U' formed by the injured man's body and took advantage of their proximity to trace soothing circles on Mihawk's shoulder. He smiled warmly as he felt his husband's body begin to relax and he whispered, "I'll take care of you now, my love."

And he kept his promise all night.

When his right hand wasn't on Mihawk's shoulder, then he was tracing little lines on his forehead, or helping him hold the notebook when the former swordsman's hands were shaking too much.

Instead of sleeping, Shanks stayed up all night and gently woke Mihawk every hour. He made sure to be gentle and tender each time, whispering the eldest's name until he woke up, either blinking tiredly or groaning in irritation depending on his mood. Shanks would ask him questions that he was sure Mihawk would know the answers - especially the names of their children, symbolic dates, or mundane things like his job.

Shanks especially liked to ask Mihawk who he was to him because the answers always comforted him: Shanks, husband, and then, what was easier to write, mine.

The redhead waited patiently each time for Mihawk's tired brain to find the answer and write it down in the notebook so as not to hurt his throat by speaking.

The usually delicate and perfectly cursive handwriting was now hesitant and rough, the letters half-formed and the words more like cute waves.

When Mihawk took too long to respond, Shanks would rub his back comfortingly and whisper, "It's okay, take your time, baby. You know the answer."

"Well done, lovebird," he murmured when Mihawk wrote down the correct answer.

Occasionally, when Mihawk wrote the wrong name, Shanks would kiss his forehead and promise, "It's okay. It's not your fault. You'll get there, doll."

Because Shanks saw the frustration in the frown of the elder who knew he was wrong but was unable to find the right answer.

Then he would push the notebook back onto the bedside table, check that his phone would ring in the next hour, and convince Mihawk to go back to sleep.

Sometimes Mihawk would seek for Shanks' hand in his sleep and the redhead was more than happy to grab his husband's trembling hand and intertwine their fingers.

Shanks was dozing tiredly when the sun finally rose and another nurse came in to bring him some breakfast. He was grateful for the steaming cup of coffee he found on his tray that Mihawk was staring at jealously. The eldest could not eat anything because his throat had to be empty for the scan scheduled for later in the morning.

Thus, Shanks was wide awake when Luffy, Ace, Sabo, Perona, Uta and Zoro discreetly entered the room to say hello to their parents, they took turns kissing Mihawk on the forehead before promising to come back tonight, and than ran out of the room to go to school even if they would be way late.

"Your sons are very caring," Doctor Trafalgar said in greeting as he had seen the six children running out of the room after successfully completing their top-secret mission - it was 7:55 a.m. and visitors were only allowed at 9 o'clock.

"Yeah, they're awesome," Shanks confirmed with a big smile as this must have been one of the first times someone had complimented their children. His smile widened as he noticed the blush on Mihawk's cheeks from being the center of the children's soft attention. At least the eldest had been awake and coherent enough to see each of the children.

Shanks, however, lost his smile when, after the check-up, which was quite positive, Doctor Trafalgar invited him to go home. He refused and argued that he would never leave Mihawk's side while he was still injured. Except that Henry had the support of Rayleigh, who had entered the room at 9:03. And Shanks was greatly outraged when Mihawk wrote "u stink" on the notebook.

The golden eyes showed all the fatigue the eldest felt, but he managed a small smile to convince Shanks that everything would be okay if he left for an hour or two.

Left with no other choice, Shanks agreed to let Rayleigh drive him home but promised to be back within the next hour.

And exactly, forty-two minutes later, Shanks was back at his husband's bedside. He had washed quickly, atena little to please his father-in-law, and spent the rest of his time picking out pajamas for Mihawk and two books to keep him busy. Shanks was grateful that Rayleigh didn't force him to sleep when he wouldn't have been able to despite the fatigue weighing down his body. His instinct quite literally burned to return to his husband, alone, hurt and vulnerable.

Nonetheless, Shanks was more than happy to show off the pillow he had brought with him when Doctor Trafalgar gave him an incredulous look.

The day passed in a calm which was only broken by Mihawk's two passages in the scanners.

The first was necessary to check whether his throat had been seriously damaged and whether Mihawk would have to live with any after-effects or not. Luckily, that wasn't the case and the doctor's advices were that Mihawk rest his throat as much as possible for the rest of his week, not swallow anything hard, and take whatever medication he was going to prescribe.

The second was intended for the swordsman's wrist. Doctor Henry admitted that it was optional but that he wanted to take advantage of the lawyer's full coverage - a gift from Sengoku - to provide the best possible care. Shanks had readily agreed, even if it meant disturbing Mihawk's restful sleep, because he knew his husband would worry as soon as he regained his senses.

Mihawk was therefore exhausted when he returned from the second scan, but he seemed relieved when the results came back an hour later: he could very quickly resume his training since his wrist would heal without damage.

Shanks smiled fondly when he saw Miahwk fall asleep peacefully after a few seconds now that his worry was lifted and since the protective redhead was still there to watch over him.

At first, Shanks tried to occupy himself with one of the books he had brought with him, but exhausted too, he imitated Mihawk and fell asleep in the uncomfortable chair.

He was awakened much later when Rayleigh shook his shoulder. Shanks stretched painfully, his body stiff from the uncomfortable position he had slept in, and he barely hid his yawn behind his mouth. It was eight o'clock and the visits were over, Shanks, who no longer benefited from special treatment, had to go home to the children who were waiting for him. He didn't like it, but unfortunately, he had no choice and it was ultimately a good thing because it meant Mihawk was well enough to be left alone.

Except the last time Shanks had slipped out of bed, he'd found Mihawk in the kitchen panicking. So he slipped the phone that Smoker had returned to him earlier in the day under Mihawk's pillow. Shanks kissed his husband tenderly and whispered against his lips, "Call if you need me."

Mihawk nodded slightly before closing his eyes again and diving back into the sweet world of dreams.

Shanks and his stepfather returned to a strangely quiet house since Sabo, Ace, and Zoro were quietly playing on the console, Uta and Luffy were coloring together, and Perona was sewing a pretty dress. Even Chopper was good where he was happily chewing on a treat. It was strange coming home after spending the last few days outside looking for his husband, then in the hospital to take care of him. Shanks felt like he had been gone for a long time again, but he was so happy to be back, even if their house wasn't quite complete yet.

He sat at the dining room table to enjoy a late meal prepared by Shakky and felt like he was a kid again when his parents left him and Buggy at the Silvers' for a well-deserved romantic weekend. Shanks remembered the horror movie nights with the Silvers where he always ended up hiding his face in a pillow, Buggy screaming in fear, and Mihawk falling asleep, tired after his training. Except the heart of the conversation was much less cheerful as Shanks recounted what Doctor Trafalgar had told him in private and Mihawk's exhausting night.

Shanks had tried to keep his voice low to avoid being eavesdropped but he knew that Perona and Sabo had heard them. Hopefully, they wouldn't tell Ace about the last part where their father had cried in frustration in the middle of the night, unable to think, write, sleep, or stay awake.

The rest of the Silvers family eventually returned home as they were also tired and Shanks was left alone to manage the children's bedtime. He was so disconnected from reality that he almost forgot that tomorrow was the last day of school until Perona bid him goodnight. Shanks then looked at his phone, saw that it was past ten, and ordered the rest of the kids to go to bed.

Shanks was in bed himself when his phone vibrated, he first thought it was Beck asking for news, but a smile tugged at his lips when he noticed who the notification was from.

Hawky ❤️ : "u slezp?"

Red: "maybe and you?"

Shanks laughed as he imagined Mihawk, still lying on his side, rolling his eyes as he read his message. For a moment, he felt like he was sixteen again and texting his new friend all night. Despite the many sleepless nights that followed the discovery of Mihawk cutting himself, these moments remained precious memories for Shanks who was so happy to have them back.

Red: "You can't sleep?"

Hawky❤️ : "no"

Red: "awwww, do you miss me?"

Red: "Do you want me to call you?"

Hawky❤️ : "not if u smug"

The spelling mistakes and texting language used by Mihawk made Shanks laugh, because her husband generally used strong language even over the phone. Despite his heart being touched that Mihawk still tried to talk to him, Shanks still took a screenshot of the conversation.

Only then did he call Mihawk who was quick to respond, "Me, smug?" Shanks asked, pretending to be outraged, "that's far from knowing me, baby. You know I never make fun of you."

His phone vibrated, he had received a response.

Hawky ❤️ : "stop ur bb voiz"

Shanks laughed loudly, "I can't help it, lovebird. You're so cute and I love taking care of you."

Hawky ❤️ : "🖕"

"Wow, very eloquent, my love, worthy of a lawyer of your stature," the small sigh he heard on the other side of the phone made him laugh even more. Shanks still regained his seriousness when he asked: "You're okay, right? Because restriction or not, you only have one word to say, well, write, and I'm back at your bedside. Well, Ray might complain if I wake up his old ass, but you'll be worth it."

Hawky ❤️ : "Yes"

"But you can’t sleep?" Shanks guessed and his heart sank a little more when he got a tired sigh in response. "Want me to read for you? Reading usually helps you sleep."

Hawky ❤️ : "plz"

Shanks snorted at the response and got up tiredly from the bed, "okay, but it won't be one of your thrillers because they give me chills and I'm too lazy to go downstairs," he continued talking until he reached Sabo's room. He knocked softly on the door, his phone wedged between his shoulder and his head, and he entered when the boy allowed him, "hey, champ. Can I borrow you a book?"

"Um, yeah?" replied Sabo who was quietly reading his own book; To his credit, he rarely saw his father with a book in his hand except to annoy Mihawk when he tried to read.

"Hey, it's Dad," Shanks added, tossing the phone to Sabo while he searched for a book that might interest him as much as Mihawk. He smiled as he heard his son talking to his second father enthusiastically even though he received no response.

Shanks ended up choosing The Hobbit because the book was short and he knew Mihawk would like it. He picked up his phone and was about to let Sabo finish reading when the boy asked, "Can I read for dad?"

"Uh, well," Shanks began not knowing what to say since Sabo should be asleep, but the boy was going to spend the night reading anyway.

And then, as if by magic, a young female voice asked: "Can I too?"

Shanks turned to see Uta outside the door, except she wasn't the only one who heard the adult talking on the phone and guessed who was on the other end.

"I would also like to read for Hawkeyes," Perona said before being pushed by Zoro and Luffy who did not intend to be left behind.

Knowing he was outnumbered, Shanks finally said, "Fine, but someone goes get Ace."

It was Luffy who ran to get his big brother while the rest of the incomplete family settled into Sabo's bed. The two boys returned with their arms full of treats that Shanks did not have the heart to forbid them. He still signaled them to eat as quietly as possible to prevent Mihawk from hearing the crumbs falling into the bed.

"This story happened a long time ago…," Sabo began, reading aloud with great care.

Compared to what Shanks had initially believed, the children did not fight for turns. They all sat close together, their shoulders brushing, and their legs intertwined as they agreed on and followed the reading order. As the best reader, Perona and Sabo read the most; Zoro, embarrassed, told in a monotone voice while Uta had been allowed to sing the little poems; and, instead of arguing with Luffy because of his reading difficulties, they all helped him.

An hour passed incredibly quickly as the kids managed to reach the end of the first chapter and Shanks congratulated them before calling it a night. Strangely, the children remained so well-behaved as they accepted without complaint and all returned to their rooms; except Ace who, too tired, had already fallen asleep in Sabo's bed.

"You know, I really feel like I'm this high school kid again who has this huge crush on you…," Shanks laughed as he closed the office door and made himself comfortable in the bed that had miraculously stopped creaking under its weight.

He had retrieved the book and reopened it to the correct page when his phone vibrated.

Hawky ❤️ : "Thx"

Shanks smiled softly, "nah, no problem, although I know it's one of your super elaborate tactics to force me to read a real book. This one doesn't even have pictures, you're exaggerating, lovebird."

Only a small amused breath answered him.

"Okay, it's my turn now," Shanks said cheerfully, but before he resumed reading, he added tenderly, "don't fight sleep, baby. I'll keep the call open even after you've fallen asleep to keep watching over you. So have a good night. I love you, babe."

Shanks continued to read aloud the adventures of Biblo the Hobbit long after hearing Mihawk's first soft, sleepy sigh.

Chapter Text

Chapter 22. The foundation of a family.

An endearing sight awaited him the next day when he entered the hospital room two minutes after the visits began.

Mihawk was up and fully awake to prove to the nurses that their cute patient was a bossy demon. He was still in his purple flannel pajamas like the perfect adult version of Sabo and was holding his notebook to show the only word he had written on a new page: "out". The word was even underlined to prove Mihawk's point.

Shanks felt himself caught in the headlights of a car in the middle of the highway when Mihawk showed him the page and the nurses reminded him that their patient had to stay another day.

Knowing he had to take sides, Shanks sighed and said apologetically, "I'm sorry, babe, but they're right you can't go out like that. That's why I brought you clothes," he added with a teasing smile, pointing to the bag he had brought with him, certain that once Mihawk woke up, he would want to go home.

Mihawk responded to the smile with his own victorious one, he walked around the bed, and ignored the nurses on the way. Instead of grabbing the bag, his hand fell on Shanks' hip and he thanked him with a little kiss on the lips: "thanx," he said in a low whisper so as not to press his throat.

"I missed your voice," Shanks greeted with a huge smile at hearing again that cold and authoritative tone that he loved so much.

He leaned in for another kiss, addicted to the taste of those soft lips against his, causing a nurse to cough and, remembering they had an audience, Mihawk grabbed the bag to change into the bathroom.

The couple left the hospital about thirty minutes later after Shanks had to sign a waiver and Mihawk had to be convinced to sit in a wheelchair. They found Rayleigh's car waiting for them since the old man had the same feeling as the redhead.

"You look good kid," Ray greeted them, looking through the mirror to see Mihawk dressed in a white t-shirt and jeans. The old man smirked as he noticed his son sitting next to his husband, their hands intertwined.

Shanks and Rayleigh quickly realized that Mihawk's sudden increase in energy was not supposed to last long, but was only temporary. It started with Shanks having to help Mihawk out of the car once they got home. Then it continued as Mihawk tripped over his own feet halfway to the door. The redhead had no trouble catchingn his husband by hugging him, especially when he was helped by Ray who quickly ran around the car to support Mihawk's other side.

So that was what the Doctor had warned them about before leaving. The drugs may have gone away, but the concussion and its side effects were still there, including nausea or trouble walking.

"Open the door," Ray offered since he wouldn't have a problem holding his son alone.

In fact, Ray had even managed to get Mihawk inside when Shanks joined them after collecting the bags. He carelessly dropped them off in the entryway when he noticed that the father and son were stuck in front of the stairs, which was much more interesting. Shanks perfectly understood their hesitation upon seeing the sixteen steps in front of them. How was Mihawk going to get to the top if he couldn't even walk in a straight line?

"... couch?" Mihawk suggested casually, who had turned a little pale at the ordeal to face.

"You'll rest better in a bed," Rayleigh contradicted automatically before looking towards Shanks, a small smirk on his lips.

Guessing there wouldn't be a better solution, Shanks nodded with his own smile which widened when Ray easily moved Mihawk to carry him in his arms bridal style.

"Like when you were little," Ray taunted as his son tightened his arm around his neck to steady himself, "you would fall asleep in the car and I had to carry you home."

"More like a princess," Shanks replied before following father and son up the stairs.

He trusted Ray to carry his husband knowing that the old man was still strong despite his white hair. However, Shanks always remained on alert, in case Rayleigh slipped, which did not happen and they reached the first floor without incident.

"The girls gave us the room back," the redhead explained as he headed towards the master bedroom of the house which, although still covered in boy band posters and colorful clothes, had found its bed with flowery sheets rather than those horribly pink one. "Aren’t they adorable?" He added, tossing the plastic bag full of medicine onto a cabinet, "Perona and Uta said you'd rest better in a real bed. Apparently they don't care that my back is a mess and won't only have eyes for you, Hawky."

"They're good girls," Rayleigh confirmed, placing his precious burden on the bed.

Except, what should have been the end of the adventure and where the knight could finally rest was not exactly the case. Indeed, the said knight decided to add a significant step before closing their quest. Mihawk stood up on shaky legs before pointing uncompromisingly toward the bathroom and refused to listen to any argument about his precarious balance encountering a slippery floor.

Mihawk hadn't had a proper shower in several days and would be unable to rest until he was clean again.

Before he knew it, warm water was running over his bare tanned skin as a body pressed against his. Shanks held Mihawk with difficulty while his one hand was covered with a washcloth filled with so much soap that it was foaming. He did his best to hurry while being careful not to miss any spots.

"The things you make me do," he growled in amusement as he finished with his husband's chest. He was recomposed by a kiss placed on his lips for his effort which amused him since Mihawk seemed to have gone into autopilot mode given his half-opened eyelids. Despite the years spent together, Shanks was still surprised that Mihawk trusted him so much even though he only had one arm left. Yet he scoffed anyway: "yeah, yeah, don't try to coax me. Hold on to the bar," he added after he was done with the top.

Shanks easily fell to one knee despite the water flowing above them and he quickly cleaned Mihawk's bottom. He felt no excitement while rubbing his husband's crotch and buttocks because the situation was not suitable for it and his concern far outweighed any dirty thought he might have. Mihawk looked dead on his feet like he could fall asleep even in the shower and Shanks really didn't want to go back to the hospital and have to explain that they had slipped in the shower.

But, feeling the golden irises on him, Shanks lamented all the same: "so here's the day where seeing me on my knees stopped exciting you."

He stood up and smiled at the characteristic eye roll.

And then came the best part, Shanks checked that the shampoo he had previously applied was thoroughly cleaned before putting a large dose of conditioner in his hand. The familiar scent of almonds filled the small enclosed space as Shanks began to rub it into the black hair. He gently massaged the dark hair, careful to avoid the medical bandage covering the cut on the back of Mihawk's head.

The response to the massage was immediate as Mihawk relaxed against the red-head and pushed his head against the hand that was doing wonders to beat his headache.

Shanks laughed as the same thick cream fell on his hair and two lazy hands began to massage him back. Mihawk's only lasted as long as the fiery hair was hidden by moss because, exhausted, he let his arms fall on Shanks' shoulders. The amused sound was stolen from his llips when Mihawk leaned in to kiss him. Again and again. Slowly and lazily. Water drops filled with conditioner fell between their mouths. Yet they continued to rediscover the feeling of each other's lips.

"Your father is on the other side of the door," Shanks reminded softly. He was trying very hard to be the responsible adult here, yet his eyes were still closed, his lips were still chasing his husband's lips, and his hand had fallen to the crest of Mihawk's back to pull him closer.

A small smile lifted Mihawk's lips, "Ol'...timz," he whispered into the redhead's ear before resting his head on a tanned shoulder.

"Hmh, I think it's time to go out," Shanks decided, finally remembering that Rayleigh was really behind the door and that Mihawk wouldn't last much longer.

So he checked that both of their hair was rinsed before guiding Mihawk out of the shower, grateful that it was one of those fancy walk-in showers and therefore had no ceramic rim. It had been a request from the eldest, obviously. Shanks had liked the shower stall they had before, because, to him, a shower was a shower. He was happy as long as the water was hot and his 3-in-1 soap was still on the shelf instead of being thrown in the trash by Mihawk because of the smell and its supposed ineffectiveness.

Except Mihawk had seen a walk-in shower in a magazine and sent Shanks enough of a different model that he got the memo. Not that he had a choice in the house's decoration anyway. With Beck, they threw out the old shower stall, replaced the peeling paint with large gray tiles over almost the entire surface, and refurnished the entire small room. The new bathroom then accommodated the Italian shower - which was just a ceiling shower head - on the left, a wall separated it from the sink unit, and the toilet was opposite.

It was on the toilet that Shanks placed Mihawk who was unable to stand up any longer. At least a soft towel had been prepared on the white ceramic and Shanks just had to wrap his husband in it. Mihawk didn't even seem to notice that they had gotten out of the shower as his head leaned against the wall to his right. His golden eyes opened into two small slits showing only fatigue.

"We're almost done," Shanks promised before quickly drying himself off and putting on a pair of boxers. Now that he had taken care of himself, he was able to rub another soft towel over his husband's flabby muscles to chase away the drops of water. Mihawk would probably blame him for the mess they made in the bathroom between the puddles of water going from the shower to the toilet and the three towels used, but Shanks decided it was for a good cause while he grabbed a fourth to wedge it between the wall and Mihawk's head who was now dozing.

Then, Shanks retrieved the old oversized t-shirt - which was his - and the boxers from the wooden cabinet which he placed next to them. He first dressed an uncooperative Mihawk in the t-shirt which was much easier to put on than a flannel shirt, before kneeling down again to tend to the bottom.

Except Shanks stopped mid-step, eyes wide, and a towel clutched in his hand when he finally saw them. The reasons why Doctor Trafalgar had spoken to him in private. Wary, Shanks cajoled his husband to open his legs a little wider with one hand on his knees and Mihawk must have been very far in his head because he obediently obeyed and, in doing so, revealed all the scars on the tops of his thighs.

Doctor Trafalgar had not lied, Mihawk had known very well how to hide his new mutilations which extended from the lesser aductor to the greater and which were therefore easily concealed under boxers. Shanks counted ten on the right thigh and twelve on the left. Some were already healed and were nothing more than small white lines that blended into the pale skin. The ones in the middle were still pink, signs that they were newer. And, like the nurses and the Doctor before him, Shanks was worried by the last three on Mihawk's left thigh. The three cuts formed a perfect semi-circle on his thigh, they looked deep and painful, and new enough to be healing, still red and crusted.

Shanks wasn't a doctor but he had seen enough cuts to know that these last three were from a week ago and Mihawk wouldn't have been able to cut himself when Akainu locked him up, so he had injured himself before then ; between the return of the redhead and his kidnapping.

Guilt rose fiercely within Shanks, yet he forced himself to push it out of his mind. He promised himself he would make amends for those, but for now, it was better to get Mihawk back to bed before he fell asleep against the wall. So, Shanks helped him put on his boxers, making all of the effort in fact.

"Rayleigh!" he called when he had to admit his inability to hold Mihawk's head off the wall and dry his hair. Doing two tasks at once was going to be complicated when Mihawk was no longer making any effort to help him and he had to be careful with the injury.

At least Shanks didn't have to worry about hurting Mihawk when it was Rayleigh who gently dried the dark hair, smiling softly when his son's head fell forward and into his hands, "he sleeps upright."

"I've never seen him so tired," Shanks admitted, tossing the old bandages into the trash. He wrapped one of the old towels around his soaked hair before pushing the others into the laundry bin and retrieved one last one - which was too pink to belong to them - to mop up the soaked floor.

Rayleigh snorted as he ruffled the black hair, "Me neither. Never has one of his workouts tired him out so much and we both know how far he could push himself."

"Not even the times you carried him?" teased Shanks who, after cleaning the bathroom as best he could, was drying his own hair. He would like Rayleigh to do it for him too because he felt fatigue weighing down his eyelids as he yawned for a long time and tears appeared in his eyes.

For good reason, Shanks had hardly slept during Mihawk's absence because of the nightmares and, then, he had spent a full night watching over his husband, waking him up and soothing him. Last night hadn't been any better as Shanks had read almost half the book before falling asleep from exhaustion around three in the morning. His alarm had gone off much too early and he hadn't been able to go back to sleep after the children left to school, waiting impatiently for his father-in-law.

"Pretty sure he was pretending to sleep so he wouldn't have to go up the stairs when the elevator was broken," Rayleigh mocked fondly, brushing back the dark bangs with his fingertips. And then he abruptly changed the subject: "did you see them?"

"Yeah, the first ones must be from five months ago. There are fewer than I expected, maybe because Akainu stopped harassing him for a while. But they got worse since my return."

The good thing about Rayleigh was that he didn't ask for an unnecessary explanation since they were both aware of the reasons. Instead, the old man responded guiltily, "I had done my best to watch over him and make sure there would be no new one."

"It wasn't your fault," Shanks replied, yawning again, "what Mihawk wants, he gets without apologizing. What he wants to do, he does without asking permission first. There’s no point in stopping him, you can just go with the flow."

"He's my son, I always wanted the best for him without knowing I was hurting him, without being able to protect him," Rayleigh's grip on Mihawk's cheek remained gentle although he spat angrily, "I would have liked to see that son of a bitch die. I saw him with Mihawk when he showed him the gym and yet I didn't guess anything. I shook his fucking hand, the same one that... "

Rayleigh stopped abruptly, his throat emitting a wild sound as his eyes fell on Mihawk's bruised neck. Certainly, the former swordsman's throat had deflated since Wednesday when it had almost doubled in size, but the fingerprints were still visible on the pulses and the mark of the collar still stood out too easily in comparison to the pale skin.

Shanks approached with the cream pot provided by the hospital before kneeling between Mihawk and Rayleigh and he gently applied the cold ointment that reeked of antiseptic to the dark bruises. Mihawk groaned in pain despite the gentle treatment but otherwise did not move away from Rayleigh's hold.

"You couldn't have guessed what was going to happen," Shanks put it into perspective with a sad smile, "you can't change the past, no matter how hard you try. You can only live in the present and try to be a better person for your future."

"Don't you dare throw my words back in my face, you little shit," Rayleigh grumbled, realizing that this was exactly the advice he had given Shanks after Rouge's death when the young man blamed himself for having left his mother alone to take care of Ace.

Shanks shrugged as he retrieved a bandage that was supposed to speed healing, it was also cold to the touch, and he wrapped it deftly around Mihawk's neck, "you were right then, you are still right now. We may never have been able to stop Akainu from hurting Hawky. He was crazy, maniacal and, convinced that Mihawk was his. So maybe I wouldn't have been able to protect him even if I had returned sooner or that I had known everything. There are a thousand things I could have done differently and even more that could have gone wrong. akainu could have killed Hawky, broken him or raped him, but he died first. Akainu is dead and Hawky is alive. Our family is safe and whole again, isn't that the most important thing?"

"You're right," Rayleigh confirmed, placing his hand on the redhead's shoulder and gently squeezing the tired muscle, "did you drink without me? You only get philosophical after two or three drinks."

"I wish," Shanks scoffed derisively.

Rayleigh laughed as he tossed the towel into the laundry bin with dexterity, "I think we're good. His hair will never be dry before he falls asleep and I don't want to stay in this position all the day. Should we put a new bandage on?"

"Nah, Doc said we didn't have to after the shower. He shouldn't have expected us to go through that step so soon."

Rayleigh and Shanks shared a knowing smile before helping Mihawk into bed. They went slowly, carrying the former swordsman between them until they could put him on the bed, and they laid him under the quilt despite the heat outside. The doctor had explained that Mihawk might feel cold while his body was more busy healing wounds rather than regulating his heat. And that was just the eldest's way of sleeping anyway, buried under the quilt even in august.

They were about to leave the dark room to share this much-deserved beer when Shanks was stopped by a hand that grabbed his wrist. Surprised, he looked towards Mihawk whose golden eyes were already on him.

"Go to sleep, love, we’ll be in…"

Mihawk cut off Shanks' comforting promise by muttering with difficulty, "ztay?"

Shanks smiled softly at his love who was already falling back asleep after this titanic effort, his eyelids were closed again and his grip on the redhead's wrist was superficial.

"Duty calls," Shanks said to Rayleigh as he climbed into bed, "but feel free to help yourself in the fridge."

"You got it, kid," the old man replied before closing the door behind him to let the married couple get some well-deserved sleep.

When Shanks emerged hours later from a craving, the sun was much higher and much hotter than before. Otherwise, nothing had changed inside the room. The thick curtain still kept out the light and heat, but that didn't stop Shanks from pushing the duvet to one side of the bed to escape the scorching heat. However, his right side was still reserved for his husband who had curled up there the moment the redhead joined him in the bed and had not moved since.

Shanks barely felt his arm anymore, but it was a small price to pay seeing Mihawk's calm face pressed against his shoulder, his dark hair scattered over his muscular skin, and a large hand resting possessively on his chest.

He still had to leave the warmth of the bed to respond to his urgent need and left the room once that was done because going to the bathroom had apparently awakened his hunger. For good reason, the oven clock indicated that it was already 2:22 p.m. Shanks thanked his father-in-law's foresight for the dish waiting for him on the kitchen island which was accompanied by a note: "-gone home; call me if needed."

Once he no longer felt like he was going to die of hunger, and he had drunk the eleven o'clock beer four hours later, and Chopper was playing outside, Shanks could continue to take care of his husband. After all, Doctor Trafalgar had agreed to let Mihawk come home under certain conditions.

So, the cycle resumed with Shanks waking Mihawk to help him eat his delicious meal consisting of a painkiller, a throat lozenge, a sweet herbal tea, and two applesauces. He took advantage of his husband eating obediently to change the bandage around his neck. And, like this morning, Mihawk had a slight boost of energy, enough to choose a movie, not enough to watch the first twenty minutes of it because he had fallen asleep again against his favorite pillow.

Compared to this morning, Shanks didn't go back to sleep. He watched the film, then the next one, without the sound of the fighting disturbing Mihawk who was drooling on his chest. Shanks didn't get out of bed until around 5 p.m. to meet the kids who had just returned and ordered them to suppress their joy at finally being on vacation as Mihawk was resting upstairs.

Shanks was sure he had told them twice not to go check if Mihawk was really there, yet, barely twenty minutes later, he was hardly surprised to see the eldest coming down the stairs with Luffy and Zoro. The eldest looked as awake as this morning before leaving the hospital, his eyes were no longer as blurry as before his long nap and his face was open as he listened to each of the children fill the gap of almost a week of absence. In fact, only the oversized Ac/Dc t-shirt he wore over gray jogging pants, his messy hair, and the bandage around his neck, were the only indicators that Mihawk had been injured.

This did not prevent the children from being considerate towards Mihawk as they all spoke quietly and took turns so as not to overstimulate him, Perona even stole the herbal tea that Shanks had prepared to give to the eldest, and even Ace and Zoro restrained themself from asking for gory details about his captivity. They still asked him questions, especially to check if he was okay, and Mihawk would either move his head, or write a response on his phone, or, on very rare occasions, manage to say a word.

After a few minutes, Shanks realized that Mihawk was forcing himself to listen wisely to the children and try to give each of them a verbal response. Each word must have brought suffering to the eldest because the effects of the painkiller were starting to wear off and the herbal tea coupled with a honey lozenge were not miracle cures. Yet, Mihawk continued to listen to the boys' adventures and the girls' gossips and noded his head from time to time because...

Hawky ❤️: "they’re scared"

Shanks wanted to say that Mihawk had already sacrificed enough this past year for their family and that he deserved to rest. However, a glance at the scene stopped him from intervening. Mihawk was sitting gracefully in the middle of the couch with Luffy firmly gripping his right arm, Sabo and Ace sharing his left side, while Uta and Zoro were sitting on the coffee table, and Perona had pulled an armchair closer. The Hobbit book was miraculously recovered from the desk where Shanks had left it this morning and the children resumed reading from the first chapter because: "we begin then we finish."

Mihawk, who had probably not even understood a line of the first chapter the night before, did not contradict them, nor did he tell them that he knew the book by heart having read and reread it as a child. Instead, he gestured for Uta to start because she was telling him about how his song was almost finished when the idea to finish the book popped out of nowhere. And Shanks sat down in the last available chair to listen too.

Maybe that was the strength of their family in the end. Their six children may not be of their blood, some added more recently than others, but they formed a close family living in a home that was certainly narrow, but definitely loving. The four boys and two girls were noisy, liked to fight or argue whether it was in the house or in front of an audience, and they had the tendency to break valuable objects. Many times, Shanks and Mihawk had received disparaging looks or remarks because of their energetic and lively offspring. Except when it mattered most, when one of them was hurt, they stuck together and for that alone, Shanks considered all six children to have received a good education.

Shanks still left the living room when his phone indicated that it was after 6 p.m. because he knew enough about the bottomless pits that were children's stomachs - especially Luffy's - to expect them to be hungry soon.

The meal was slowly simmering when Sabo joined him in the kitchen to warn him: "Dad's asleep. We tried to convince him to go upstairs, but he refused."

Just like this morning and earlier in the afternoon, this boost of energy was therefore temporary. Shanks wasn't surprised, although his heart sank when he saw Mihawk asleep on the couch, his face buried in a pillow he held between his arms. He wasn't the only one to have fallen asleep since the two nap buddies were sleeping in the same chair.

"Hawky," he called softly, kneeling next to the sleeping form to shake his shoulder, "come on, Hawky, time to rise."

Only a low, tired groan answered him before Mihawk pulled his face from the pillow to glare badly at the redhead; golden eyes blurred with pain met worried red ones.

"Hey, sunshine. Is the pain back?"

For only response, Mihawk pointed to his throat and then his head with his finger. So as Shanks had suspected, Hawky was paying the price for his recklessness in pushing too hard this afternoon. He then handed him a painkiller followed by a throat lozenge. Back in autopilot mode, Mihawk swallowed everything Shanks handed him without trying to find out what it was. His docility stopped when Shanks forced him off the couch, his legs shook and he didn't manage a single step before falling back onto the couch where he threatened to curl down again to sleep.

"Come on, love, you have to work with me," Shanks grumbled gently, aware that his husband wasn't doing it on purpose, "unless you'd rather I call your dad back to carry you upstairs."

At this, Mihawk managed to open his eyes to weakly glare badly at Shanks again.

He smiled sadly before calling back, "You'll sleep better in our super comfy bed than on the couch with the screaming kids."

"We're calm," Ace replied, yawning widely from where he was slumped against Zoro.

"Yeah!" Exclaimed Luffy jumping on the second chair, "we even slept in the living room during last Christmas, it was great!"

"But we didn't sleep on the couch…," Sabo countered.

Understanding where Shanks was going with this, Mihawk made an effort to clear the cloud obscuring his mind and stretched his arms towards the thick neck. They were both aware that the position was going to be precarious as Shanks wouldn't be able to support Mihawk's back if he held his legs. The eldest will then have to overcome his fatigue to cling to the redhead's neck and flex his back muscles.

"You're ready?" Shanks asked before lifting Mihawk off the couch when he received a small nod. The problem was not carrying his husband's weight, but rather its distribution since in this nuptial litter, Shanks could only support part of his body. He would then have to trust Mihawk's athlete reflex to do the rest of the work. "Tap me on the shoulder if you need a break," he warned as they were now in front of the sixteen steps to climb.

The first three steps were fairly easy, Mihawk's arms tightened around his neck after the fifth, and Shanks started to hurry after the seventh.

"Come on, Dad! Show us your muscles!" Ace encouraged him from the bottom of the stairs, he was soon followed by the cheers of his other brothers which were enough to wake Zoro from his nap, and to attract Uta and Perona who had locked themselves in the office.

Invigorated by the cheers of all the children, Shanks ignored the sweat on his forehead and hurried up the stairs earning him loud whistles and congratulations. Except, Shanks couldn't enjoy his victory because he felt Mihawk shaking violently against him, his arms threatening to give way, and his back sagging with nothing to support him. He then hurried into the bedroom to gracelessly drop Mihawk into the bed. Luckily, the older one didn't complain as he turned onto his side and fell asleep the second his head hit a pillow.

Shanks joined him there a few minutes later after checking that the children wouldn't set the house on fire in their absence. For a moment he thought they were back like last week when Mihawk turned his back to Shanks so as not to speak to him, except that the elder raised his arm in a silent request and the redhead obliged by pressing his chest against the muscular back. His arm snaked easily around his husband to pull him closer.

He didn't think he'd fall asleep right away, not after this morning's nap, but between the super memory foam mattress beneath him - bought as a joke when Mihawk had reached 30 and Shanks was now truly grateful to have instead of springs- and the calm breathing of the eldest, sleep prevailed.

Mihawk was better the next day when he emerged from the room around eleven in the morning. This time his boost of energy didn't seem fleeting, especially thanks to the cup of coffee he negotiated to have with his painkillers and the crushed English breakfast he devoured. The eldest must have been better if he had rediscovered an appetite and if he glared gravely at Shanks for taking out the blender. The redhead escaped the thousand deaths that awaited him when he repeated what the doctor had told him: "no solid food until Monday."

"Not… a… baby…," Mihawk muttered, playing with the mush on his plate.

Shanks chuckled before kissing the top of the older man's forehead, "stop being grumpy and maybe you can watch some cartoons."

He ran out of the kitchen before Mihawk could throw the plate in his face.

In any case, Mihawk seemed well enough to receive guests mid-afternoon. He didn't necessarily participate in the conversation, just pressing himself against Shanks and checking his emails on his tablet. Their guests -Rayleigh, Shakky, Makino and Beck - didn't seem to mind since it was Mihawk's normal behavior.

"The house is strangely quiet," Makino remarked as they could talk quietly without having to shout and share a drink without being disturbed.

"It's thanks to Hawky," Shanks replied proudly as he tightened his arm around his husband's shoulders, "he coughed this morning after yelling at the kids and noticed they were too scared to speak afterward. So he started again before you got there and the kids all ran to their rooms."

"Well, that’s some good parenting you got there," Rayleigh scoffed.

Mihawk shrugged his shoulders, not bothered, "it'z... convenient," he replied before diving back into his emails, flatly ignoring the ones filled with emojis sent by Doflamingo.

The good news continued to be shared, the bottles of alcohol continued to be opened, except for Makino and Mihawk, both forced to drink soft drinks, one for her pregnancy and the other because of the medication, and the laughter continued echoing in the living room. Shanks kept his arm on Mihawk's shoulder which made an excellent armrest to rest his drink on even as he let the elder be in his own world and laugh with their guests. Yet, Shanks interrupted Mihawk's work only when the clock struck 6 p.m. to hand him a painkiller and a lozenge to soothe his throat when he started coughing again.

"Well, that's the day our son started sucking in front of us," Rayleigh lamented, laughing with Shakky.

"Don't worry," Shanks began with a huge teasing smile, "he's used to bigger… Aouch! Babe…," the redhead complained, looking towards Mihawk who had just pinched him painfully. The golden eyes were filled with menace, but far from being frightened, Shanks' smile became even wilder: "it's the truth..."

For his boldness, Shanks got pinched again which made Rayleigh laugh even harder. At least until Mihawk found the remote the boys had left on the couch and threw it in his father's face to shut him up. Far from being bothered, Rayleigh easily avoided the projectile, laughed hard enough to lean on his wife, and made Mihawk sulk in the process.

To divert attention, Mihawk nudged Shanks and reminded him, "Azk them."

Shanks' eyes filled with excitement and mischief as he remembered what he and Mihawk had agreed to earlier. He looked back at his best friend and his heavily pregnant girlfriend before asking them, "Have you started looking for a new home for my godson? You can't raise him in Beck's student studio, it'll be too little."

Beck and Makino looked at each other suspiciously before the young woman replied, "we've already visited one or two houses, but we haven't found one yet."

"Well, your search ends now," the redhead replied excitedly, "you've found your home."

"Where?" Beck asked, raising a curious eyebrow; he knew the redhead well enough to know when he had a mischievous idea in mind and when he couldn't be dissuaded.

"Here," Shanks replied simply, sipping his drink. He was forced to explain in detail when Mihawk nudged him again: "The house is too small for us, so we're going to sell it, but we care too much about it to let anyone live there. We have precious memories here and the children may be sad to leave their forever home. So we will feel much better if you are the one living there, especially because the house will stay in the family."

"I…well…," Makino began, looking towards her boyfriend for support.

"Are you sure?"

Shanks nodded excitedly, "of course! You worked as hard as I did on rebuilding the house so it kinda belongs to you too. You could turn Ace's room into a studio and Mihawk's office could be your space Maki. You deserve a real home for your child, especially if you continue on this path," he added with a knowing wink aimed at Makino. "We looked at the value of the house and we can give you a great friendly price!"

"Can we think about it?" Makino ended up asking after having a sort of telepathic conversation with Beck.

"What? But it's a great plan…," Shanks lamented, sulking slightly.

At the same time, Mihawk nudged him again and replied to the couple, "Yes, you can… refuz."

Outraged, Shanks looked at his husband and complained, "No, they can't!"

Unintentionally, his voice went higher towards the end of his sentence, which earned him laughter and mockery. Shanks supposed it was deserved and joined in the laughter. He didn't see the point in getting angry and ruining the evening when he was in such good company and had his husband against him. In fact, the evening got even better when the six kids emerged from their rooms to join them and Mihawk offered to buy pizza from Luigi's.

Much later, when the children were sleeping peacefully and their guests had left, Shanks wasn't sure what had woken him from his deep, dreamless slumber.Perhaps it was the sudden movement to his right or the desperate panting of a man who hadn't breathed in years. Unless Shanks developed a sixth sense that alerted him whenever Mihawk was in any trouble.

In any case, Shanks unconsciously pushed himself up into a sitting position since his body was still heavy with sleep and it was with a slurred voice that he asked, "Hawky?"

At first, there was no response. Still, Shanks knew Mihawk was awake since he could feel their shoulders brushing, Mihawk's was strangely tense. But Shanks couldn't exactly see because of the darkness of the room and he was about to turn on the bedside light when a trembling voice answered him:

"I'm fine...."

"Are you sure ?"

Shanks wasn't sure, but he thought he felt Mihawk nod. So the tremor hadn't escaped either of them as worry rose in Shanks and Mihawk did everything to make the slightest sound possible. Something told Shanks that Mihawk's strange behavior wasn't caused by the pain in his throat. He knew his husband too well for the answer to be so simple because nothing ever was with Mihawk and it was this perpetual challenge that Shanks loved so much.

"I-I zould... go down...," Mihawk muttered in frustration at being reduced to having to talk like a baby, unable to string more than two words together without stuttering or his throat hurting.

This was progress for Shanks and weakness for Mihawk.

"Hey, no, don't hide from me," Shanks called as he felt Mihawk leave the bed. He instinctively grabbed his husband's wrist in the dark before pulling him towards him. Shanks had tried to be gentle, but Mihawk didn't resist as he should have, and the elder crashed against the redhead's chest.

It didn't matter because Shanks had Mihawk right where he wanted him and his single arm went around his husband's trembling shoulders to pull him closer and prevent him from fleeing. That was apparently exactly what Mihawk wanted too as he sank against Shanks' side, his hands clinging desperately to the redhead as a sob left his throat.

Shanks grimaced in sympathy at the pained sound, "what's going on, sweetheart?"

The affectionate name triggered something in Mihawk as Shanks' tanned skin was quickly soaked with tears. At least Mihawk was trying to keep calm to avoid sobbing.

"Come on, tell me," Shanks prompted softly when his question went unanswered, "and 'nothing' doesn't count," he added with a small smile.

Mihawk's grip tightened before he admitted, "y-you weren't… zere..."

"I'm here," Shanks replied fiercely.

"N-not a-always."

Shanks' mouth opened in understanding as the pieces of the puzzle fit together. Everything made sense of Mihawk's urgency to return yesterday morning to his nightmare tonight and his current need to be comforted. Mihawk had woken up alone and vulnerable when he was locked up by Akinu and he had been sent back to all those other long, excruciatingly lonely nights. The eldest also had to wake up alone and disoriented in the hospital even though the call was still open. But Shanks was here now and as long as he breathed, Mihawk would never spend another night alone.

"I'm here," Shanks repeated as his hand held Mihawk's shoulder to reinforce his point, "and I'll be here tomorrow night and every night and beyond. I'm going to choke you so hard with my concern that you'll need a restraining order against me."

Shanks' heart lightened when he heard Mihawk laughing softly against him. At least all was not lost.

His hand began to draw small circles on the older man's back when he added, "Let it all go, Hawky. I'm here and I'm letting you down again."

He expected Mihawk to obey his request, or at least he hoped so since his husband was quite stubborn. Except that the result was beyond what was expected, his skin became even wetter than before while tears flowed down Mihawk's cheeks and small sobs made him shiver. And Shanks kept his promise, he brought Mihawk closer to his chest, even if the eldest was now sitting on his lap, and held him through his long-awaited crisis.

Because instead of expressing his feelings every day as Shanks did, Mihawk had the bad habit of storing everything he felt in boxes arranged in alphabetical order. Except that the more Mihawk ignored his feelings for those of others, the more they grew and the boxes got smaller. But Mihawk had continued to ignore them long after Shanks returned because the last thing he wanted was to appear weak and needy. Yet, one day or another, the boxes would end up exploding, it was inevitable. It seemed the boxes had chosen to explode tonight and luckily Shanks was there to pick up the pieces and repair them.

So Shanks cradled Mihawk in his one arm to help calm him down and avoid aggravating his injury, promising that he was there and wouldn't leave, and drawing small soothing circles. He continued long after the tears had stopped knowing they both needed it.

He smiled as he heard Mihawk yawn and felt him sink deeper against him.

"Do you want to try sleeping again, doll?"

Mihawk shook his head against his chest and Shanks chuckled softly at the cute behavior.

"Come on, you'll feel better afterward," Shanks promised as he settled onto his back and guided his husband onto his chest.

"I cant... night-tmares..."

"I’ll be there to chase them away."

Despite Shanks' promise, Mihawk still got up on his elbow and fumbled to open the drawer of his bedside table.

"What are you doing?" Shanks asked since he couldn't see anything in the dark.

"...pill...sleep...," Mihawk explained with difficulty after finding the little orange box, but he didn't have time to take one of the white pills inside since Shanks had already thrown it away across the room, "asshole."

"Hey! You didn't stutter on that one," Shanks complained although his smile was still there, he was the least bit offended at being insulted by Mihawk. And easily, he pushed his sulking husband back against his chest and whispered against a mop of dark hair, "They're just placebos, let me be your miracle cure."

Mihawk snorted to hide his amusement, but he settled back against Shanks. The eldest was almost completely lying on top of the redhead from his head on his chest to their legs intertwined. The extra weight didn't bother Shanks, on the contrary, he missed this closeness with his husband. He made himself comfortable with the blanket over them to stay in that position until early morning.

"You... worse... pill."

Shanks laughed softly before having a brilliant idea, "you.. love... me..," he replied imitating Mihawk's broken and fragile voice, and yelped when he felt a bite on his right pectoral. His laughter made his chest vibrate which helped Mihawk relax, "go to sleep, sweety. I'll be here when you wake up."

Mihawk hummed, but continued to struggle, "If I wake you?"

"Then you wake me up," Shanks replied simply before his hand began to play with Mihawk's soft hair.

He continued to gently scratch the scalp long after he was sure that Mihawk was asleep despite his protests, until his eyes closed and his own breathing stabilized.

Chapter Text

Epilogue

Chapter 23. "I can't go on like this."

Vision obscured by a blindfold, Shanks moaned loudly.

"Fuck," he cursed, wanting to rub the pain in his shoulder where he had bumped into something but he couldn't, "you're really bad at this," added the redhead, holding tighter the hand that guided him.

"I warned you," his husband's rich voice replied and Shanks didn't need to see to know deep down that Mihawk had just rolled his eyes.

"Well, 'be careful' clearly wasn't enough," he grumbled as he continued to follow Mihawk wherever the elder decided to take them. Shanks had been wearing this blindfold since they were in the car. It had been funny at first to feel the nimble fingers tying the knot behind his head, to imagine all the possibilities, especially the most perverse, of what they could do with this blindfold, but the game had become less funny since Shanks had stepped into a piece of furniture and hit his shoulder on a wall. He was pretty sure Mihawk was doing it on purpose to get revenge for whatever Shanks might have done this week - and it was Tuesday.

Instead of answering, Mihawk ordered, "Stop right there."

Shanks automatically froze for fear that there might be a ravine beneath his feet -unlikely since they were in a building, but he was becoming quite paranoid under the blindfold- and was chagrined when Mihawk let go of his hand to stand behind him and he easily removed the blindfold.

The redhead blinked at the brightness emanating from the large windows and -

"-oh, a big curtain," Shanks said smartly as he noticed the big gray curtain in front of him. The curtain was large enough to reach from floor to ceiling and wide enough to reach each end of the room, one wall of which was a single large double-glazed window. Shanks would be completely lost and disoriented if it weren't for the large picture window overlooking the harbor and the empty spot where his first baby should have been. Feeling pain grip his heart at the wound that was still clearly open, Shanks turned his attention to Mihawk who was standing in front of the curtain, "Why is there a curtain in my great hall?"

Because they were at his second home, at the big harbor warehouse that his father had transformed into a business and which he had made profitable with his crew.

"Forget the curtain," Mihawk replied in an exasperated tone. His lovely, cool, authoritative tone of voice had returned to him in full yesterday and he could now string together complete sentences without coughing painfully in the process. But a packet of honey lozenges was still hidden inside his pocket and his neck still bore those two horrible, horizontal lines which were taking too much time to disappear.

"What a shame," Shanks scoffed softly before asking for the tenth time in less than twenty minutes, "so what's my surprise?"

Except Mihawk finally gave in as he pressed a button and the curtain retracted to reveal...

A large wooden hull, a golden sun, an intimidating red dragon, and large white sails with a familiar Joly Roger...

"The Red Force," Shanks whispered in disbelief as he easily closed the gap to his long-lost baby. As he hugged the giant model, feeling the wood beneath his fingers and face, Shanks had no shame in admitting shedding a tear. Because the Red Force had been reborn from its aquatic prison and was now proudly displayed in the company's main hall for all to see.

Shanks dried his tears before turning to his husband who was already looking at him with a tenderness that was rare for him, "why...? How?"

"Your crew wanted to pay tribute to you without knowing if you would ever return. They wanted my opinion and a patron," Mihawk added with a small shrug to minimize his role in this whole story.

Shanks smiled as he looked at the Red Force again and realized that this gift had a lot more symbolism than it seemed. The amazing ship model marked his long-awaited return and also the new friendship between his crew and his husband. It was quite touching. This gift was excessive because its price must have been indecent given the boat's size and the details' quality, yet Shanks also loved it excessively.

"Did you invest a lot?"

"Enough so that they agreed to let me show you," the elder replied, moving closer to the emotional redhead, "do you like it?"

"I fucking love it,!" Shanks laughed loudly as he stood back to look at his boat, "thank you, my love!"

Mihawk raised an affectionate eyebrow before admitting, "Wait until you see the mini figure of you from above before crying."

"You're kidding?" asked Shanks who was impatient to go to the first floor to see if there really was a figurine of him on the upper deck, knowing Mihawk it was the truth.

"No," Mihawk sighed, "at least now I know your worth down to the penny."

Shanks laughed again before joining Mihawk to kiss him as a token of thanks. And then he turned again to his magnificent longship with pride. He was so grateful to have friends and family who took such good care of him. Above all, he couldn't be more in love with Mihawk than he was now. Because the lawyer, despite his cold exterior, was quite warm from the inside with the few people he had chosen.

He was so happy to call this incredible man his own and would love to continue to be able to do so for the rest of his life.

However, there were one, if not several, problems in their way.

So, despite the surprise that pleased him, Shanks sighed in disappointment, "my surprise for you is going to pale in comparison...how do you always manage to surpass me?"

"I'm better than you," Mihawk replied in a haughty tone even as his golden eyes flashed with mischief.

"Uh uh," Shanks said dryly, too used to the older man's oversized ego to take offense. "In any case," he began in a trembling voice before grabbing Mihawk's hand who then looked at him suspiciously, "we need to talk."

Mihawk frowned, "why are you nervous?"

"I, uh, well, it’s serious!" Shanks replied even as he felt his cheeks turn as red as his hair, "I won't make it if you cut me."

"Be my guest then."

Shanks took a deep breath to chase away his nervousness and said sternly, "I've been thinking about you and me, and the kids too, all last week."

He waited for Mihawk to cut him off and mock his thinking skills, but the elder remained serious, his golden gaze filled with patience.

"I can't continue like this," Shanks admitted, swallowing hard, "the lies, the half-truths, the secrets... you've kept so much from me since my return and you've even forced our family to participate in it. What's worse is that I found out three-quarters of it from someone else! You were hurt while I was gone. Damn, you were hurt right under my nose. I shouldn't have gone on that trip, not when you had asked me to stop. I thought I needed adventure and... I got more than I was ready for. But, the real thing is, we can't pretend I didn't insult you like I did. Bribing you to forget isn't enough," he spat, seeing that the necklace with the St. Michael medal was around Mihawk's neck again. Shanks had put it back in its rightful place himself after Smoker returned the lawyer's belongings to him.

Mihawk remaining silent, Shanks took the opportunity to finish the speech he had prepared since the eldest was in the hospital: "our marriage almost did not withstand this long series of ordeals. I am not sure that we escaped completely unscathed," added the redhead, pointing to his left arm, then to the eldest child’s throat. "All this to say that our marriage cannot continue when it has been cracked by a year of absence and lies, and our trust in each other has been shaken."

Having finished recounting his speech, Shanks impatiently waited for Mihawk to respond and when he did, a tinge of fatalism adorned his face and his voice was terribly cold:

"I'll have the divorce papers ready for tomorrow morning," Mihawk agreed, letting go of Shanks' hand to turn away and hide the tears gathering in his eyes.

Shanks was largely dazed and he blinked as he watched Mihawk walk away because this was not what he had expected. Not at all. He repeated the beginning of his speech in his head and smiled when he understood the misunderstanding.

Then Shanks grabbed the black velvet box hidden in his pocket and fell to one knee.

"Mihawk," he called serenely even as his voice echoed through the enclosed space. Except the elder refused to acknowledge his call and continued walking towards the exit, "Mihawk, look at me."

This time, Mihawk hesitated but, out of pride, did not turn around.

"Please turn around, my love, my angel, lovebird, sweety, hon-"

"Stop making fun of me," Mihawk ordered angrily, "I'm not some toy that…"

The elder's eyes widened as he noticed Shanks on one knee, an open velvet box in his hand, the Red Force standing splendidly behind its owner, and the sun's rays reflected in the red hair.

"Marry me again," Shanks offered with a soft smile.

Mihawk hesitated before moving closer to see the shiny ring in the box, "I don't understand," he admitted, looking from the ring to the redhead's serene eyes, "you’re not breaking up with me?"

"Of course not! I'd be the king of idiots if I did!" Shanks laughed as his smile widened, "I want a new start with you. No more lying, no more leaving, no more trials worthy of one of your novels. I want to grow old with you, become a lazy old man, and watch our six children grow up. I want to give you the wedding you wanted with a long boring ceremony. Fuck, I need to see you walk down that aisle while my knees tremble with anticipation. And we deserve an amazing honeymoon. I want all that and more if only you want me again."

This time, Mihawk didn't wait for Shanks to die of impatience to respond: "That's exactly what I want too."

Then, Shanks was pulled to his feet by a firm grip. He didn't have the luxury of gloating as his breath was stolen from his lungs by one of the best kisses he ever had. He smiled into the kiss at Mihawk's eagerness and easily responded with the same passion.

Shanks was so happy that this moment was the first story written in the new book they were going to write together.

Once freed, Shanks managed to retrieve the ring from the box, "I believe this belongs to you. Fortunately, Tashigi found it with the rest of your personal effects."

"No, it's yours," Mihawk replied, pulling his finger back at the last second.

Shanks blinked sheepishly, as he was sure he had checked the inscription before putting the box in his pocket. He still pointed the ring at the sun to check and smiled proudly when he read: you are my lighthouse

"Nah, it's the good one," he confirmed as he placed the wedding ring on Mihawk's left ring finger and he didn't resist the temptation to kiss it as if to mark his territory.

They had both gotten their respective rings back and Shanks was certain that the universe was now aligned again.

At least, that was the feeling he got when Mihawk kissed him again.

***

Ever since Mihawk had agreed to marry him again, Shanks felt like the sun was warmer - probably because July had just started - and that it was rising just for them. Every day was better than the last as the whole family began to put their trauma behind them.

Shanks was confirmed in his idea when his new car was ready this morning, exactly at the right time to convince Mihawk to go on a short trip to test it out. What the eldest didn't know was that the little trip was supposed to last three hours and tat they wouldn't be coming home tonight. When Mihawk had started asking questions while they had been on the highway for about thirty minutes - "you had enough fun, didn't you?"- Shanks had told him to rummage in the red bag in the back seat to find a book.

"Are you up to something?" Mihawk had asked, looking at the heavy book in his hands.

"You'll see," was the enigmatic response as Shanks had fun overtaking a car that wasn't going fast enough for his liking. He hadn't driven in a year and was convinced he'd never be able to drive again, so yeah, maybe he was having a little too much fun testing the limits of his new Chevy - you don't change a winning team, especially since his old one had been sold so that Perona could have her own real car.

Shanks decided that modern technology was a good thing as he parked the car in front of the cabin because having all the buttons on the right side of the steering wheel was convenient for maneuvering and driving in general.

"We are here!" He said excitedly to get Mihawk's attention. The advantage of giving the eldest a book was that he got lost very quickly while reading, which could also be a disadvantage in getting him to emerge from it.

When Mihawk finally took his eyes off the book, he saw a large two-story, cozy wooden chalet. He also noticed that they were lost in the middle of a green forest and a lake out of a fairy tale. The lawyer hesitated when the place felt familiar in a good way, "this is where I took you for your twenty-first birthday."

"You remember it!"

"Of course," Mihawk replied slowly before looking at the excited redhead next to him, "this is where I spent my last day of freedom."

Mihawk had already gotten out of the car by the time Shanks understood and ingested the sarcastic remark, "it was you who proposed," he accused, slamming the door before retrieving the other two bags he had hidden in the trunk while Mihawk was busy looking at the other car models.

"In any case," Shanks continued, climbing the steps of the chalet and entering the security code he had received via text, "we're going to have a lot of fun here!"

"Are you still on your engagement honeymoon idea?" asked Mihawk who had followed him inside.

"Duh! Not everyone can boast of being engaged to the same person twice! And I called it our engagemoon, make en effort, babe."

Mihawk rolled his eyes in amusement, "you didn't want to wait until December to celebrate."

"Maybe," Shanks chuckled at being caught in the act so easily, "but we deserve to have a day together away from the kids to be as loud as we want."

"Does that mean we’re not going to enjoy the coolness of the lake?" lamented Mihawk, whose gaze was on the large bay window and the clear water of the lake which was only temptation compared to the stifling air of the car they had just left.

Shanks nodded with a big smile before grabbing a bag, then Mihawk's hand and he guided them to the master bedroom, "what's the point of washing if we're going to get dirty again a few minutes later? Might as well get dirty first and clean later."

"That's quite... logical of you," Mihawk remarked, pretending to be surprised by his husband's perverted mind.

"Of course, I barely kept myself from pushing you onto the first flat surface I see all week," Shanks lamented as he opened the door to the large bedroom. The place had been modernized since the last time they had come and some of the furniture was new, but the room was in the same location with still the same breathtaking view of the lake thanks to the balcony. From what he could see, the bathroom now had a large bathtub and the bed no longer had a wooden frame, but a metal one, which would not change anything from what he had planned.

"You're just a savage," mocked Mihawk who was already on the other side of the room to open the bay window and let the fresh air of the lake in.

"I held back, didn’t I?" Shanks laughed softly before joining his husband. He leaned against his back before whispering in his ear, "but the kids aren't here to interrupt us or be traumatized and, most importantly, we withheld our contract to speak to a psychiatrist first. So I really don't see why we should wait any longer."

Mihawk shivered as Shanks kissed his neck. Their eyes met through the glass and Shanks knew by the excited glint in the golden eyes that Mihawk wanted him just as much.

They had agreed to speak to a psychologist before any sexual activity. None of them liked this compromise. Shanks because he wanted to feel that connection with Mihawk again. The eldest because it meant having to talk to someone about what he had experienced. So, obviously, Shanks had met their psychiatrist first yesterday morning to confirm that he was competent before Mihawk agreed to go to his appointment scheduled for later that afternoon.

Shanks had gone there without fear because talking to a stranger for an hour was not something he dreaded. As an extrovert and chatterbox, he even liked being able to talk about himself without being called a narcissist in the process. Except that being allowed to feel hurt by what Akainu had done without feeling guilty about it had been… weird. Because it was Mihawk who had been hit the hardest, who had been stalked for a year and ultimately kidnapped. Damn, Mihawk still bore the marks of what Akainu had done to him, whether it was physically or mentally, especially during his sleep.

"Didn't you lose an arm because of Akainu?" the psychiatrist then asked him in what had been a rather low move to play since Shanks had not known how to respond.

"Well… that wouldn't have happened if I had stopped traveling like Mihawk asked me to."

"Would the Red Force have sunk if Akainu had not sabotaged the engine?"

"My baby had withstood bigger storms! You should have seen him when he was sailing, the Red Force was a real marvel...," while he was talking about his boat Shanks finally understood the point of the psychologist and he then added: "So no…"

Shanks had felt strangely liberated after that first session as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The psychiatrist, an old man who looked like a big, friendly teddy bear, had explained to him that it was only the beginning and that they would have a long way to go, but that it was already very good for the first time. Additionally, Dr. Henkin had added that they could do some couples therapy depending on how Mihawk's session went and Shanks had wished the old man a good chance before leaving the office. The psychiatrist would have a much harder time getting the lawyer to talk than the redhead and he was going to find out the hard way.

So Mihawk had been more pensive than freed from a weight when he came home last night. Except that the eldest had not decided to change psychiatrist, or even to cut the experiment short, and he had marked the date of his next session on his calendar, which was a big victory.

They would both speak separately to the psychiatrist, or even together when the time came, to prevent this ordeal from destroying them despite the fresh start they had decided to make. Shanks had wanted to start over on a new solid foundation and Mihawk was more than in agreement.

Their second marriage was one step, Mihawk finally agreeing to change his haircut was another. In fact, the nurses had to shave a large strip going from the left center at the back of his head to almost his right ear to access the cut. Shanks and the kids had told Mihawk it looked weird from behind, and on Wednesday, Mihawk had finally allowed Perona to approach him with her freshly purchased hair kit.

Shanks placed a kiss on the side of Mihawk's shaved head, as he liked the funny feeling under his lips. It was strange to no longer see the dark strands brushing against the pale nape of his neck and Shanks was certain that it was the shortest Mihawk had ever cut his hair, since he had never seen him shave before. At least the top of his head was still full, enough that Mihawk could still push his hair back like he always did. And then, the feeling of the little hairs under Shanks' fingers was fun too when he played with the dark hair and even Mihawk had admitted to liking it.

Then Shanks stepped back and eagerly took off all his clothes because he really only rented the cabin for one reason and he intended to make the most of it. Shanks smiled when Mihawk imitated him less eagerly, even going so far as to fold his clothes and place them on a chair. But Mihawk stopped at his boxer, his fingers hesitant to remove the dark, protective fabric, and Shanks lost his smile.

At least now he was sure that Mihawk had really been unconscious the time he helped him clean up after he returned from the hospital.

Except that instead of admitting to having already seen the scars - which Mihawk must have suspected since he knew someone had helped him change during his convalescence - Shanks let his own insecurity speak: "Do you want me to put my shirt back on?"

Surprised, Mihawk turned to the redhead who was already naked, his stump fully visible, and he automatically assured, "no, you're perfect like that," and, just to be sure that Shanks would believe these words, the older man bent down to kiss the scarred skin.

Shanks felt his cheeks turn red as this was the first time Mihawk had verbally expressed his opinion on the stump, "so if you're not disgusted by my physical flaws…"

"...These are not flaws," Mihawk contradicted him, frowning gravely and his hand gently cradled the stump as if to protect it from its owner's words, "don't you dare talk about my husband like that."

"Okay," Shanks chuckled at the possessive tone and corrected, "if you're not disgusted by the new me, then why wouldn't I by the new you?"

"The contexts are different, you survived an incident while I broke the promise I made to you."

"I don't care," Shanks assured as his hand rested protectively on his husband's waist to pull him closer, "I love every part of you, even the morbid one."

"I love you too," Mihawk conceded softly before smirking, "even if you're exuberant."

Shanks smiled, knowing that they had come a very long way if Mihawk was now able to offer his heart to him without fear of being rejected or mocked. The eldest had been unable to say these three little words the first two years of their relationship and still had difficulty saying them the first year of their marriage.

"Have I ever made fun of the scars on your wrists?" he added when Mihawk had not yet removed his boxer; he had to do this step without Shanks to help him, at least for this first time, and they both knew it.

Because that was what Shanks had planned for their first time since their new beginning: making sure that Mihawk would no longer be ashamed of the scars that dotted his thighs because of an old promise.

"No," Mihawk replied automatically, "you've always been very understanding about them."

"In that case, be sure I'll be as understanding for the new ones. I'm not lying when I say I love every part of you."

Finally, Mihawk took off his boxers to show himself naked in front of his husband and Shanks carried him to the bed. From the bag, he retrieved the ropes he had brought with him to tie Mihawk up in a simple display.

"Can you move?" he asked, looking down at his work of art in excitement. Mihawk was certainly a sight as he lay in the middle of the bed, his hands tied above his head and his long legs held wide open so he was unable to hide his scars by closing his thighs.

Mihawk tried to move, failed, and sheepishly admitted, "No."

Only then could Shanks begin his real work to ensure that his husband would feel comfortable in his own skin again. After this afternoon, Mihawk would never dare hide his thighs again because he would have understood all the love Shanks had for him, new scars or not. So the redhead nibbled on the older scars and smiled as he watched Mihawk squirm under his ministrations, except he couldn't go far because of the ropes and the large hand holding his thigh. Then, Shanks licked the most recent ones with great care, surprised by the iron taste on his tongue. He took his time with the three longest ones, his tongue wetting the torn edges and his fingertips tracing the contours.

"Shanks," Mihawk called in frustration, pushing his hips into the redhead's face to get him interested in something else.

"No, I think you can come like that."

"I can't," the elder scoffed derisively, "I need more."

With a wicked glint in his eyes, Shanks stood up to tower over Mihawk and kissed him passionately before whispering, "You'll only get what I'm willing to give you."

"You're unbearable," Mihawk growled even as he bent his head to get another kiss.

The redhead's hand cradled the older man's pale face to keep their lips apart, "you're not a very good boy tonight."

"Maybe I deserve to be punished."

"Tomorrow," Shanks confirmed with a smirk as his fingers brushed the soft skin, "tonight I prove to you how much you deserve my love. So you're going to be good for me, aren't you, lovebird?"

Mihawk nodded and finally received his kiss before Shanks returned between his legs to finish what he had started. After several minutes of effort, he received confirmation that his husband could be good for him. And Shanks decided to move on to the main dish because his crotch was getting sore.

"I didn't…," Mihawk began sheepishly at the moment of preparation.

Shanks smiled softly before whispering, "I know," because he completely trusted Mihawk when he told him about only sharing a kiss with Akainu. Plus, the tight seal around his finger was an undeniable proof.

Beyond the carnal and sexual part, what Shanks had especially missed was the act of love itself. It was having Mihawk beneath him, seeing the trust shine in those pretty, golden eyes, and hearing the moans of pleasure that were meant only for him. It was feeling complete and desired. Giving all the love he had and receiving just as much love. It was being close to Mihawk, holding him tightly, being surrounded by his scent, his warmth, and his supple and willing body.

"Liar," he accused with amusement when he felt Mihawk's arms clinging to his neck, his nails digging carelessly into his taned skin, even though SHanks hadn't touched the knots to untie him.

They were together, completely, totally, like two pieces of the same puzzle finally intertwined.

The world could be engulfed in fire and blood and they wouldn't notice, lost in each other as they were.

The sun had largely set and the air had cooled outside the room when the couple reached bliss at the same time.

"You know, I swore I wouldn't ask you," Shanks began after they had both caught their breaths and cleaned themselves up, an obligatory step after having sex with clean-freak Mihawk. He turned on his side to look towards the elder and his hand easily found a white thigh half spread. Shanks smiled when Mihawk let him gently trace the scars without trying to dodge his touch and he continued, "especially since you're talking to a psychologist and all that. But I'm curious. So when did it start?"

Mihawk hesitated, his eyes clouded with uncertainty. So much so that he seemed ready to retrieve a pair of boxers or cover their bodies with the long-forgotten sheet.

"Come on, the best way to not do it again is if you talk about it. Please, babe?"

His plea was fortunately enough as Mihawk admitted: "in early January, I received a strange call. It was your number, your profile picture, and even your username, but it wasn't you. I don't know how but Akainu managed to hack your telephone line, certainly to play with my nerves and he succeeded... I was convinced that it was you, that you were finally calling me back... but it was only an old man who wanted a donation for this association..."

"...Puppyland," both husbands said at the same time.

Shanks pushed himself up with difficulty into a sitting position. His eyes were beyond wide as he looked at Mihawk while feeling like he was seeing him for the first time. He saw the collar mark on Mihawk's neck and the scars on his thighs without noticing the traces of love he had added because everything was finally falling into place. And the guilt weighed even heavier than the anvil of the Red Force on his heart.

It was because of him.

Of his stupidity and his childishness.

If he had acted like a man instead of a child scared by a maybe...

Then… Mihawk would have never started again ; he had pushed Mihawk over the edge. Not Akainu. Him.

"How do you know that?" Mihawk asked, standing up to be at the same height as Shanks.

Except that if the redhead heard the question, he was unable to answer, because the weight of his mistakes was drowning him.

He saw himself on a white sand beach with Uta and the prepaid phone between them, as they imagined the most fantastical and impossible scenarios about who could have called him so many times. They had thought of all the wildest theories possible without imagining, not even once, the most obvious answer: his husband had called him a thousand times to hear his voice again and in the crazy hope that Shanks would call back.

And he had done it, he had called back, but had not been man enough to do it himself. He had let himself be carried away by the ramblings of a 14-year-old girl because it had been simpler and funnier.

Well, it wasn't funny anymore.

Not when Mihawk's golden eyes widened as if he understood. Obviously, he understood. He was Mihawk 'Hawkeyes' Silvers-Gold, the smartest man Shanks knew.

"Shanks?" Mihawk asked uncertainly as if hoping for another possible ending.

Except that instead of answering, Shanks pulled his husband against him with one hand behind his back. Admitting the truth was too hard, especially when the usually cold golden eyes vibrated with emotion; mostly pain and disbelief. So, Shanks hugged Mihawk to his chest, not to comfort the eldest, but to make sure that he was there, alive and safe, and that he still deserved his love even after making the worst mistake of his life.

"I'm so, so sorry," he whispered in a shaky voice through jet-black hair, "I'm so sorry... forgive me, my love... I'm s-sorry, I'm sorry. It's my fault. Forgive me."

Mihawk's arms rose to respond to the hug, either because he fully understood or because he couldn't stand to hear Shanks' sobs. His hands clung to the redhead's shoulders. They were so intertwined that it was now impossible to know for sure who was holding who.

"We had this whole plan...with Uta… t-to find out if the person who called me was n-nice or bad. We a-asked Gordon to call and put it on speaker… s-so I could hear the voice of...," Shanks' sobs died down when he finally recognized the voice he had heard that day, "...Boa! I didn't recognize her voice... I'm sorry."

"It's my fault too. Boa answered for me because I was too surprised. I should have spoken," Mihawk whispered as best he could while his face was pressed against the redhead's neck.

However, Shanks heard only too well how broken the lawyer's voice was with remorse.

Shanks shook his head, making more tears fell down his cheeks, "I should have spoke. You've already done so much for this family and I just had that to do. You would have recognized me if I had spoken, the opposite might not have been true..."

He had wasted a whole five months because of his childishness.

Five months where he could have been with his family, love them, and supported them financially or contributed to the expenses of the house.

Five months where he could have physically and emotionally protected Mihawk from Akainu and his vile schemes. If he had been there, Outlook would never have had the courage to harass Mihawk to get Sabo back. There might not have been any stalking either. And Mihawk might have never been kidnapped because Shanks would have been there all along.

But he had been absent for a full year instead of seven months because he had left his fear spoken at his place.

"I'm sorry," he begged, again and again, feeling tears wetting the back of his neck and until his own stopped.

Finally, Mihawk managed to move away from Shanks' neck and he cradled his face in his slender hands to force their gaze to met. Shanks knew he was an ugly crybaby between the tears still stuck in his eyes, the snot running from his nose and his red cheeks, yet the golden eyes were only filled with devotion when Mihawk lovingly assured, "I forgive you , dear."

Just like that, Shanks knew that the foundations of their marriage were once again perfectly solid as the cracks were all gone.

Chapter Text

Chapter 24. A New Home for a New Beginning

Mihawk guessed there was a trap when Shanks came to pick him up from his session at the psychiatrist with a huge smile where his white teeth were as visible as the amused glint in his eyes. The explanation was quickly found when Shanks greeted him excitedly and said, "I found our house!"

They then got into the car and Mihawk let himself be lulled by the loud music coming out of the speakers rather than looking at the road. He should be more interested in the house's location concerning the schools and the children's extracurricular activities, but for once, he was more than relieved to give Shanks control and get lost in his thoughts. After all, the redhead knew the specifications they had established with the children. And it was Mihawk who agreed to marry him a second time anyway.

The first time Mihawk had accused the baristas of slipping something into his coffee for his bold move and he wondered what excuse he could use this time. In any case, anything will always be better than admitting that he is horribly in love with this energetic redhead who can't sit still.

Oh and said redhead was quite talkative: "so how was it at the shrink?"

Mihawk hummed a positive response as they weren't allowed to talk about their sessions to each other. They had agreed to future couples therapy and would therefore have to work separately on what they were ready to say to each other. So, in the meantime, Mihawk had to keep to himself that his second session had been about how he felt when he learned of Shanks' death. He hadn't had a hard time finding the words: shock, disbelief, despair, heartbroken, and finally, dead from the inside.

The problem had been expressing them out loud, but Dr. Henkin was beginning to understand Mihawk and instead asked him what the children had felt before wondering if Mihawk reflected those feelings. It was a damn good technique, Mihawk had to admit because he recognized that it must have been complicated for Henkin to go from Shanks who talked a lot to hide what he really felt to someone who kept everything inside without speaking.

At least, Shanks didn't need any more information as he continued to ramble on about how awesome Henkin was and, strangely enough, Mihawk agreed.

Mihawk lost himself in the redhead's soothing voice, too happy to hear him after a year of absence to ask him to be quiet, and so he felt like he was emerging from a long dream when Shanks parked the car in front of a large rusty iron gate.

This portal overlooked a small forest park. Old oaks, Mihawk guessed by recognizing the leaves. From the outside, he could also see the roof of a large house, or even a mansion, since there were towers. Knowing the city and its surroundings, they were close to the ocean that Shanks loved so much.

Intrigued, he read the plaque of the domain which was half eaten away by rust and covered with ivy: "Kuraigana domain."

Mihawk no longer had the luxury of remaining an outside spectator when Shanks grabbed his hand and guided him down the muddy path leading to the mansion.

For a first impression, Mihawk had known better than mud on his leather shoes and trees that seemed haunted, but he still let himself be lulled by the redhead's spiel.

His second impression of the domain was that Shanks had already come to visit it without him which was confirmed when the redhead took it upon himself to introduce Kuraigana to Mihawk, starting with the exterior.

Apart from the small forest whose trees seemed to look down on them, Kuraigana had a garage capable of holding three large cars - which was a good point - but also a dilapidated playground that had the merit of existing, private access to the creek that was only accessible through the domain, and a garden where Mihawk could plant all the vegetables and fruits he wanted. Shanks had certainly planned everything since he praised the good things about Kuraigana: the children would no longer trample his garden, the manor itself was located on a small hill so there was no risk of flooding, no useless lawn to mow, and, above all, no intrusive neighbors who invited them to the barbecue just to judge their education.

Finally, his impression of the house itself was simply not good despite Shanks' reassurances about the solidity of the foundations, the thick load-bearing walls, and the roof in perfect condition. For now, the two faults that Shanks had found at Kuraigana were its location which was a bit from Mihawk's work, and the numerous well-needed repairs. But nothing insurmountable assured the redhead before adding that Kuraigana had the required number of bedrooms with even an office and a room that could be converted into a dojo.

Except, right now, all Mihawk saw were the holes in the walls, the dust everywhere, the wooden floors creaking under his feet, and was it a rat he just was running?

No, definitely, he really didn't see the potential that Shanks found in this pointed-roof slum. Because where one saw bare walls, the other saw an opportunity to redo the insulation of the house. Mihawk was unable to project himself into the work and imagine the result afterwards, mainly because of the dust which had made him sneeze four times already.

Yet Shanks didn't seem to mind as he talked excitedly about all the jobs he could do here with his team. The house was a blank sheet that he could rebuild to Mihawk's liking in a beautiful, intricate origami. The redhead promised that they could fix up this house and theirs to make the transfer with Makino and Beck before the children were even back at school. That would mean exploiting his employees, except once again, Shanks didn't seem to mind as he hopped from room to room like Chopper when he had just found a new chew toy.

Mihawk looked tenderly at his husband whose eyes were literally glowing and who had already found back his handyman cap - the one that blended in with his hair because it was red too - as he was taken back to the first months when they bought their standard suburban house.

There had been this particular day when Shanks had used his day off to destroy a wall. Mihawk had suspected something that morning because Shanks never got up at dawn if he could help it and then there had been the way he knocked on the wall separating the kitchen and the dining room before smiling mischievously. Hours later, Mihawk had returned home with Ace and Luffy only to find Shanks waiting for him in the dining room with a huge smile to show him the new opening between the kitchen and dining room.

"You left me unsupervised!" the energetic 21-year-old laughed before showing his work, "don’t you think it’s better this way? The dining room seems bigger and is so much brighter. Best idea ever!"

If Shanks had managed to destroy a wall and clean up all his mess in the span of a few hours then why couldn't he also perform this miracle?

"In fact, it's quite simple, I've already checked. The parquet's strips are already half removed, we just need to unhook them and treat them against termites just in case, you know? Then, boum! We give them a new color, maybe darker? I don't know, you'll choose. And we reuse them for the bedrooms upstairs because the old orange tiles are not really friendly or welcoming. For here, I was thinking about these high-tech underfloor heating tiles. Well, ok, it's expensive but it's an investment! It would allow us to trash up the big cast iron radiators because they are ugly and take up space and you won't be able to argue with me about walking around the house barefoot!"

Shanks was about to continue his excited rant when he finally noticed Mihawk looking at him, "and I'm bothering you, right? I know you'd prefer a house already made, but we looked and it doesn't exist. Either there will always be a room missing or it will be too small. We need space and Kuraigana can give it to us."

"You really think you can turn this thing," he gestured vaguely at the living room, "into our home?"

Shanks nodded like an excited puppy before asking, "Do you know what this place needs?"

"A bulldozer," Mihawk replied sarcastically to hear Shanks laughing.

"No, it needs love and our family has plenty of it. So why not?"

Mihawk looked at the hole in the wall in despair, imagining the price of the renovations while Shanks was still keeping secret the price of the mansion, its private park, and its access to the beach. He knew that the money they would get from the Beckmanns wouldn't be enough to cover the expenses here, especially if they gave them a good price for the house. So yes, before imagining this dump as a livable place for the children, Mihawk counted the expenses without bottom to which Shanks wanted to take them. He sighed in anticipation of the extra hours that would await him, but still asked, "What are your plans for upstairs?"

Mihawk assumed he had made the right decision seeing the huge smile stretching Shanks' cheeks.

***

The work was almost finished towards the end of August, so much so that the first furnishing phase had begun. From what Mihawk knew, the boys' rooms were fully furnished and only missing their personal effects; the girls' rooms and the bathroom were almost finished. He didn't know about the master bedroom because Shanks purposely kept it a secret.

In any case, for Mihawk, the work was still far from finished as he saw dust everywhere he looked and he had to step over several tools before reaching the kitchen where Shanks was waiting for him. The large crew working on the house were taking advantage of the sun to eat outside, but the redhead had decided to cut his lunch break to finish the details of the kitchen. Apparently, the construction coordinator wanted all the dark furniture put in place before tonight so this room would be officially finished. Mihawk appreciated it immensely since there was only a week left before classes started, although he didn't understand his role in this whole affair.

Until now, Shanks had kept him as far away as possible from the work in Kuraigana since their house was already under enough construction as well - Luffy and Zoro's room had already been converted into a baby room since the birth was coming soon.

However, apparently, Shanks had decided to include him in the work in a rather... peculiar way.

"Stand here," the redhead ordered him gently, showing Mihawk the new central island that had been installed this morning, "I want to see if the measurements are correct."

So Mihawk obeyed since the reason seemed right to him and he stood in front of the island as if he was going to cook while Shanks was behind him checking the measurements. Mihawk wasn't sure what exactly the redhead was doing, whether it was an evil plan or not, but he was all too aware of what was happening in front of him.

Every breath against his neck, every gentle touch, even the redhead's pelvis brushing casually against his butt gave him unholy ideas of what they could do here and now while Shanks' team was in the garden.

The air conditioning wasn't installed yet, was it?

That's why Mihawk was suddenly so hot, right?

There couldn't be any other reason.

However, Mihawk almost lost his mind when Shanks asked him: "Can you lean against the island, sweety?"

The heat went up a notch in Mihawk because all the sensations were exacerbated now that he was leaning against the island. Shanks still rubbed him carelessly, even leaning against the elder, his insensitive pelvis firmly pressed against very receptive buttocks, completely unaware of the ordeal the lawyer was going through at the moment.

After all, why would Shanks suspect anything when he was the perverted one of the two and Mihawk usually gave in to his advances? Except that here? There was no advance. Shanks wasn't trying to get into Mihawk's pants as he was just checking measurements, a pencil in his mouth and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

And my god it made Mihawk crazy.

Had he mentioned that seeing Shanks in old torn jeans, a nearly see-through white t-shirt, and his sweat-damp hair pushed back by a worn-red cap turned him on?

Yeah, Mihawk was pretty sure he'd mentioned it in the past.

Unfortunately, the heat coupled with the heavy weight pressed against his back quickly left and the thick hand stopped touching him while Shanks backed away, happy, "we're all good! My team and I worked really well. It's right on-"

"-Shanks," Mihawk cut darkly, turning around to check that yes, Shanks was completely unconscious while he was focused on the work.

"Yes, babe? Don't you think the island is at the right high?"

Mihawk hesitated before asking apprehensively, "Don't you want to test its stability?"

"Hmh, no I think we're good, it's securely attached," to prove his point, Shanks pressed his hand to the dark granite and pushed several times on the island which, as promised, did not budge. A statement that wasn't necessarily true for the redhead's biceps which flexed at the simple gesture and Mihawk swallowed hard.

"Are you sure?" he repeated seductively, "there's really no test you want to practice while I'm here?"

Shanks must have noticed the blush on the older man's cheeks, his eyes dilated with excitement or, more revealingly, the tent in his gray pleated pants because, before he could make a fool of himself even more, Mihawk found himself sitting on said island, his legs wide open to accommodate the redhead between them.

"Don’t tell me that that turned you on?" Shanks mocked as he invaded Mihawk's personal space.

Swallowing to hide his blush, Mihawk accused: "we're the same size and you're the one who cooks, why do you even needed me?"

"How did you want me to check the measurements if I’m leaning over the island?" Shanks asked innocently, his head tilted a little.“You’re really cute when you’re all lost, my love.”

Feeling more and more ridiculous by the minute, especially now that the redhead's smug face was too close to his own, Mihawk growled a "shut up," before kissing his oblivious husband.

He moaned hard into the wild kiss, his hands on the redhead's cheeks to pull him closer, even as Shanks' hand rested possessively on the small of his back.

"How soon will your men be back here?" Mihawk asked, even more excited than before after the kiss that had stolen his breath.

Shanks grabbed the older man's wrist to look at his watch and replied, "between five and ten minutes, but it'll be fine."

"It'll be too…," Mihawk was cut off by the finger that came to his mouth.

"Either I can ask them to wait for about thirty minutes," Shanks began with the worst smug smile on his lips, "or we can hurry up and finish before they come back."

Mihawk growled knowing that neither choice was ideal as Shanks' men were too perceptive for their own good and they could easily be caught. Except, that his gaze was lost in the excited one of the redhead and Mihawk felt a shiver run through his body. It was wrong, forbidden, and dangerous, and it was for all these reasons that Mihawk chose the second option.

Before he knew it, Shanks had helped him off the island, turned him around, and pushed him against the granite, "It’s this position that turned you on, isn’t it?” laughed the redhead."

Mihawk groaned at being manhandled so easily by a one-handed, yet he didn't complain as his hands already fell to his belt. His pants and boxers fell to the bottom of his feet without the slightest remorse or doubt. After all, in two months, Mihawk no longer had any shame in displaying the scars that had finished healing on his thighs because he knew Shanks loved them.

"That means you survived," Shanks had whispered in his hear while they were at the cabin and Mihawk was now a firm believer of this theory.

"Shanks!" he moaned in surprise when he felt a big finger enter him a few seconds later, except it wasn't wet by something that wasn't spit and it didn't have the substance of lube either. Concerned by what was now buried in his butt, Mihawk asked, "What is that?"

"It's natural," Shanks promised with an embarrassed chuckle.

Except this bride did nothing to calm Mihawk's nerves and he harshly repeated, "What did you use?"

"Nothing that's not natural. It says 'plant' and 'oil' on the bottle," the redhead repeated, kissing Mihawk's exposed buttock.

And then, Shanks replaced his fingers with something else and Mihawk lost his train of thought.

At the first hard push, he decided it wasn't so bad if Shanks had used one of his handyman products to prepare him - for now at least, because the redhead was going to get a serious argument later.

As promised, Shanks was fast and brutal as they were quite literally racing against time. Yet, Mihawk couldn't take his mind off the window that was right behind them and the men who might see them passing by. Instead of worrying him, it turned him on even more, enough that he came barely two minutes later when the thick-tanned hand teased his arousal. As usual, Shanks followed him into nirvana and, as usua tool, did not withdraw since "your ass is mine, I have to mark my property..."

So, the couple had finished just in time when the door opened and Mihawk hurriedly pulled up his pants. He couldn't do anything about the incriminating white stains against the island but at least Beck wouldn't catch them naked for the what? Seventh time?

If the elder guessed what they had done from the redhead's smug expression or Mihawk's mortified one, he was kind enough not to mention it -probably for his own sanity- and instead warned: "bathroom tiles are on the way."

"I'm coming," Shanks promised through his heavy breathing and smirk. He signaled Beck to leave them and the older man took his chance to leave. Shanks was still smiling as much as he cleaned the white marks for Mihawk who was still quite disoriented, "so, you see that the island is resistant?"

Mihawk nodded in silent confirmation as he finally managed to clear the post-orgasmic fog from his mind. He still held on to the damn island because his legs were still weak.

"Come on, babe," the flame-haired idiot mocked, patting his butt to see him grind his teeth, "I need to get back to work," Shanks still kissed Mihawk tenderly, "I'll see you at home."

Quite logically, Mihawk didn't return to work straight away and made a quick stop at home to change.

***

They got married at the first snowflake.

The Kuraigana domain was covered in white from the treetops to the roof of the house. The snow covered the entire grounds in a pristine, magical white. Perhaps the domain had never been more beautiful than in winter when the trees made summer stifling and they lost their leaves in autumn. No, winter was fitting to Kuraigana which was more beautiful than ever.

Except there might be a blizzard later in the evening, or the guests might have an accident because of the muddy path that Shanks, Ray, and Beck had spent two days desalting - "better plan ahead" - which meant that he could slip and make a fool of himself in front of their guests, or the electricity could go out and plunge them into darkness in the middle of the ceremony...

"You're worried," guessed an amused voice behind him.

"I'm not," Mihawk spat, looking at his father who already had a glass of whiskey in hand even though it was only ten o'clock; Damn, he was late, wasn't he? "That would be ridiculous," he added when Ray raised an eyebrow, "this second marriage doesn't change anything. We were married this morning, we'll be twice this evening. It's... I'm not worried. I'm freaking panicking."

Before Rayleigh could try to soothe him, Mihawk added, "A winter wedding was nice on paper, but it causes more disruption than expected. What if someone falls? or a car could get stuck or guests could get sick from the cold or a lot of bad things could happen.."

"The snow isn’t the problem, right?" Rayleigh guessed easily, putting his glass on the table to get closer to his son, "you would have found other disadvantages to a spring wedding..."

"...Shanks and Luffy are sensitive to pollen," Mihawk admitted quietly, "they would have sneezed the whole ceremony."

"So what's the problem?" Rayleigh asked, concerned.

"What problem?" echoed a new voice as she entered the room, "Hawky, aren't you ready yet? What are you two waiting for you two?! The ceremony starts in less than thirty minutes!"

Mihawk lowered his head a little, ashamed of being scolded by his mother when he was only wearing his pants and his shirt was still wide open. Well, his hair was still wet and Perona was waiting until he was finished to put his makeup on. The young woman said that it was intolerable for Mihawk to marry looking like a walking corpse. Another problem with winter: the snow accentuated the paleness of Mihawk's cheeks, everyone knew that, but it was Perona's first real winter - and Uta and Zoro's - with them so she discovered this problem just a few days ago.

However, Mihawk still grabbed the glass of whiskey that Ray had dropped and finished it in one go. It wasn't his fault if his father had been negligent and, in any case, Shakky had brought back some supplies on the tray she was carrying.

"Our stoic son has cold feet," Rayleigh explained, getting revenge for the stolen glass.

Mihawk wanted to deny the allegation but wasn't it because he was panicking that his heart was beating too fast and that Shanks was probably ready before him? It would be a shame if he arrived late to their wedding while Shanks was early because it was always the other way around. Shanks was late and Mihawk always arrived five minutes early. However, there, he... he didn't know. Something was stopping him from leaving this room Shanks had built for them.

Their bedroom was located on the top floor of the mansion and took up almost all of the attic space. Shanks had turned the empty space into a loft without asking Mihawk's opinion since he had asked Sabo, Uta, and Perona's advice. So, Mihawk had expected a pink child room the first time he was allowed to visit this part of the house. Instead, he discovered a lovely loft painted taupe to accentuate the exposed wooden beams. Their room entered into a cozy book nook so that Mihawk wouldn't have to go down to the library downstairs to overcome his insomnia, and then there was the bed which sat in a large warm space and, behind it, on one side was the bathroom and on the other their dressing room. Mihawk loved this room firstly for his family's foresight of mind and, secondly, the bed had been strategically placed above a skylight so they could look at the stars at night. They even had their own little terrace.

Honestly, Mihawk would like to stay in his room until the end of the night and ignore their guests who were mostly made up of his family and colleagues -Crocodile, Doflamingo, Jinbei and Sengoku- and Shanks' crew, as well as Buggy and his friends. So they had kept the wedding simple which might be surprising since Shanks was an extrovert with lots of friends, but the redhead also knew that too many people could stress out Mihawk. Yet, Shanks had still managed to invite Henkin and his wife, the Trafalgar family, and Smoker and Tashigi. After all, if they were here today it was thanks to them.

Mihawk was pulled from his thoughts by his mother who grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the bay window and sat him down on the bed with a soft, "Talk to us."

He was going to be 34 in March so why did he suddenly feel like a little child needing to be comforted by his parents?

"Is it Shanks?" Rayleigh tried to guess when Mihawk didn't answer, "Beck told me he escaped from their surveillance to sneak in here last night."

Perona and Uta had watched movies about weddings—especially the cheesy winter ones—and insisted that their fathers respect the tradition of not seeing each other the day before the wedding. They had hesitated but if they had brought in a priest who agreed to celebrate their marriage and to make all the road until here, then they had to comply with tradition, right?

Yet…

"He did," Mihawk replied with a soft smile, "he got a ladder from the shed to climb up here and almost broke his neck because he drank too much with his friends."

But Mihawk hadn't had the heart to argue with Shanks when the youngest had said to him with the most seriousness in the world: "I promised that you would never spend another night without me, right not? Let's go to sleep, babe."

And that was exactly what they did. They cuddled together, looking up at the stars above them, before falling asleep without Mihawk ever feeling any doubt. He hadn't had one either when he woke up alone this morning with a note on Shanks' pillow: I'll see you later, future husband x2

No, Mihawk had actually started to panic when he put on his pants and accidentally looked out into the garden where the guests were walking towards the orangery.

"So what’s going on?" Shakky repeated, squeezing his hand to help keep him out of his head.

"Shanks thinks this new marriage is a new beginning," Mihawk explained, speaking slowly because he was searching for the right words at the same time, "but what if he's wrong? What if it's not a smooth path that waits for us? What if there are other terrible trials and we don't survive this time? There could be another Akainu somewhere and... Didn't Rouge die because of a car accident? Or hasn't Hinata been too quiet lately? She could very well come in with a bang to ruin everything today or..."

"All the guests have arrived. The gate is already closed," Rayleigh promised him.

"And even if she did come in, it would give me an excuse to hit her," Shakky added, giving him a little push on the shoulder.

"...it doesn't change the other problems..."

Rayleigh sighed before sitting down next to his son and his wife, "you can't stop accidents from happening, that's why they're unpredictable. But that doesn't make you defenseless either," he pointed to Yoru who was hanging on a wall nearby. "Shanks was there for you when you cut yourself, and in return, you were his rock when his parents died. Was it hard? Obviously, but you didn't let that destroy you, you both came out stronger. You even built a family of heterogeneous stray dogs who would never have met each other otherwise. And this last ordeal could have torn you apart, except that you didn't drown, son. I thought it was already too late when you found Shanks as if your love was stronger than the universe itself. This is why I am confident that no matter what life throws at you next, you will survive it as long as you are together."

"You and Shanks are opposites," Shakky added softly, "yet there is no one better for you. You are meant for each other. This ceremony is just a small formality to celebrate. You'll get through this."

Mihawk nodded, comforted by his parents' words, but he still asked shyly, "What if I fall in the snow?"

"We'll catch you," Rayleigh laughed, ruffling the dark hair.

Just then, the door flew open to reveal an angry Perona, "Aren't you ready yet? This is so not cute! Not at all! The excited redhead is already at the Orangery!!"

Against all expectations, Mihawk did not arrive late nor did he fall on the path leading to the Orangery that Shanks had renovated with his friends in preparation for the wedding. Letting the redhead work on the Orangery was the best way to keep him away from the wedding preparations.

Even more surprising, as Mihawk walked slowly surrounded by his parents, Shanks was already waiting for him on the other side of the aisle. He was resplendent in his black suit which gave him a dark side totally spoiled by the immense idiotic smile which disfigured his face. Their wedding already wasn't very conventional so why would they bother with white? Boa and Perona - the wedding planners - had given in to more colorful suits, only if they could be matched. So where Shanks' costume was black over a red shirt that was the same shade as his hair - Boa had to look for a very long time to find the right color - Mihawk's was the same red, but his shirt was black.

He had hesitated when he first saw his fancy suit and discovered that he would be wearing Shanks' color.

Still, the look Shanks gave him was certainly worth it. Many times the redhead had called him 'angel', but this was the first time Mihawk felt like one. He had to say that Perona did a good job of turning his cheeks pink and he even indulged in some mascara and some sort of lip balm. Boa also did a good job whether it was the elegant decoration of the Orangery or the suits because Shanks looked at him as if he were an angel fallen from the sky, his eyes were wide and his lips half open.

Unless Shanks was imagining ripping the suit off his body? There was this possibility too.

"Babe, you're a dream come true," Shanks whispered once Rayleigh gave him his son's hand in a rather symbolic gesture.

Mihawk smirked as he let himself be guided onto the altar where the priest, Crocodile, and Benn were waiting for them, "so I wasn't one the first time?"

"I never wanted to tell you but there was a drop of coffee on the corner of your lips," Shanks chuckled softly.

Mihawk knew that wasn't true - he had made sure to be impeccable before meeting the mayor - but Shanks' innocent laugh strangely helped calm him down. Why did he have doubts already? In the presence of the exuberant redhead who had stolen his heart with the tenderness and affection he had shown him. Shanks could have called him a broken monster when he discovered the marks on his wrists. Instead, the redhead had been his friend, his first true friend, his best friend, his confidant, the stubborn idiot who refused to abandon him and who had even agreed to marry him, twice.

"You were wearing sneakers and ripped jeans," he attacked back before checking that yes, Shanks was wearing the leather dress shoes that Boa had bought him - probably out of fear that his sister-in-law would murder him. Nevertheless, his golden gaze traveled up his husband's entire toned body only to meet a large, tempting, tanned chest, "where's your tie?" he accused.

"I couldn't tie it," lied the redhead since he had prepared himself with his friends, Luffy, Zoro, and Ace, "and then, wasn't it you who said you liked my wild side?"

Mihawk shook his head in despair, but didn't deny it, flaming hair locked in a half bun was torture enough.

They received a warning look from the priest who asked them for permission to begin.

"Yes, hurry up, I want to kiss him so bad!" Shanks begged excitedly which made their guests laugh.

Mihawk responded by tightening the hand in his in a warning and Shanks apologized while sulking a little.

However, in the middle of the ceremony, as the priest addressed the crowd, Mihawk asked softly: "Are your legs shaking?"

"My whole body is," Shanks laughed back with a cheeky smile, "I almost passed out three times and Beck pushed me up here to keep my mind occupied."

However, even if Shanks had admitted to being as stressed as Mihawk, his reddish gaze was still as confident, his smile as loving as ever, and his hand completely steady in that of the eldest.

The ceremony lasted a long hour that Mihawk, even if he had wanted it, did not really listen, lost in Shanks' serene gaze.

Yes, Shanks was this exuberant, intrepid, crazy man on the edges. He was also lazy when he didn't want to get out of bed. He wasn't capable of doing laundry without turning Mihawk's white shirts pink either. Shanks never hid the fact of being a pervert. His laughter was loud and he could never stop talking. The redhead is also the kind of man able to finish a barrel of beer single-handedly and be able to do a handstand right after. He got married to the ocean the first time he had seen it. And he could be as childish as Luffy.

But besides Shanks's numerous flaws, he was the only man Mihawk loved.

Because Shanks was also a hopeless romantic and an incredibly loving and caring person. He was the type of man to maintain hope even in the worst of situations. Shanks was an unassuming hero because he had reached out to Mihawk when he was alone and lost in darkness and let him feed on his light. He saved him again even when he wasn't a police officer but because he was intelligent and would be willing to sacrifice himself for his family.

Because it was those strong, protective arms that had cradled him after every nightmare.

But there were also all the little things.

Shanks cooked like a god. He knew how to tinker and repair cars. And the redhead was also undeniably, yet unintentionally, handsome, even with the missing arm and scars marring his face, because when he smiled...

Damn, when he smiled Shanks became as bright as the sun.

Yes, Shanks had stolen Mihawk's heart years ago and the older man had never tried to get it back.

Why would he do it when his heart was in such a safe hand?

They shared vows filled with honesty, love, and promises; even if Shanks's had managed to make the assembly laugh, twice, and make Mihawk blush until his cheeks were the same color as his suit.

And then, the priest said the magic words, "the twice-married can kiss, again."

"Hell, yeah," whispered Shanks who wasted no time before pouncing on Mihawk like a thirsty animal and shoving him back slightly, his hand behind his back, making a show of it, before kissing him tenderly.

***

Mihawk was almost at the end of his book when a shadow blocked the warm rays of the sun that were supposed to tan him. It was a long-lost hope as his skin would turn red for a day before turning perfectly white again.

"I only respond to extreme emergencies," he repeated soberly, "I would only move if there is a pool of blood or an open fracture."

"But I'm bored!" moaned a fake child's voice.

"The kids beat you, didn’t they?" Mihawk asked coldly without taking his eyes off his book.

"They've all ganged up against me, these little ingrates! You have to defend me!"

"No, I’m finishing my book."

Drops of cool water fell on Mihawk's legs as the person got closer, "come play with us!"

"No," Mihawk repeated, the least disturbed in the world as he continued reading peacefully.

"Please, babe."

Mihawk shook his head : "as I said : no."

"Lovebird."

"My angel."

"Love of my life."

"My twice husband."

Seeing that his childish tactic was not working, the person moved forward again so that the drops of water fell on Mihawk's stomach from where the eldest was lying on his deck chair.

"Mihawk… Mihawk… Mihawk…"

How could this man be already 32 years old when he acted like such a brat?

"Hawky… Hawky… Hawky… Hawky! Hawky! Haaaaawky! Hawkyyyy! Hawwwky!"

"Damn it, Shanks!" exclaimed Mihawk, slamming his book on the deck chair next to him, "could I have peace for at least one…"

He stopped talking when he finally noticed the state his husband was in. The childish bastard's skin was divinely tanned, even more so than usual since Shanks was preparing his vitamin D reserves for the winter, and was even more sinful because of the drops of water running down each hard, defined muscle. There was the red hair too which had taken on a darker shade and which fell carelessly over Shanks' shoulders in soft waves. And then there was that devilish smile and Mihawk knew he had fallen into the trap like a beginner.

"Gotchya," Shanks scoffed before grabbing Mihawk and lifting him easily onto his shoulder.

Had he just been kidnapped from his deck chair by his own husband?

Said husband was laughing loudly as he ran towards the sea where all the children were cheering him for his bold move.

Mihawk jumped to his feet after Shanks carelessly threw him into the ocean and he slowly walked towards his husband with a menacing glint in his eyes, "you're going to pay for this."

"Oh...oh...," Shanks whispered in fear as he realized his mistake.

"Run, Dad!" encouraged Luffy at the same time as Zoro sided with Mihawk.

Shanks tried to swim away from Mihawk but failed, and his head was pushed underwater before he could apologize.

***

"Zoro and Luffy got away with using our name again," Shanks told him as he entered the living room. The redhead had just hung up after being called by an old friend from the Shin Sekai maritime police because the two terrors had been doing something stupid again with their new friends. "How many times do we have to tell them that they can't use our fame?"

"Why would we bother?" Mihawk replied, slowly sipping his glass of wine while watching the fire burn in the magnificent fireplace, "they won't listen if they're like you."

"Touché," Shanks laughed before collapsing lifelessly onto the couch. He crawled like a larva until his head was in the older man's lap. "Ray said that Luffy reminded him of my father at the same age and that he had always been impossible to reason with. So I'm hopeful because Dad had calmed down at some point!"

"Only because Rouge was a good influence on him. Unfortunately, Zoro follows Luffy in all his schemes by threatening everyone in their path."

"Touché, twice."

"At least some members of their groups have senses," Mihawk added, occupying his second hand by playing with his husband's red hair.

"I don't think we need to worry about them. They'll be fine."

Mihawk hummed his agreement before adding, "You still owe me money."

"Zoro and Luffy aren't married yet," Shanks pouted, rolling his eyes at having lost their old bet about the relationship between their two children. At least now they fully understood why Zoro had fiercely refused to be officially adopted where his sister had jumped at the chance to carry their names. After all, Zoro had found another way to become a Silvers-Gold. Unless Luffy agreed to take the name 'Roronoa' and then Shanks would really be grumpy.

They enjoyed the comfortable, unreal silence for a few moments before the redhead added, "you hear?"

"No, what?"

"The silence," Shanks whispered fearfully, "it's barely eight o'clock and our house is silent."

Mihawk stopped sipping his drink to listen and smiled sadly as he realized that Shanks was right. Their house was silent. Now the last time Kuraigana had been this silent was when Shanks introduced him to the domain… ten years ago?

Mihawk frowned and wondered where had the years gone.

He felt like he had blinked and been projected into the future, except that the many photographs on the mantelpiece weren't fake. No, they were more a reflection of a busy decade. Mihawk was particularly fond of the large family photograph where all nine of them stood in front of the mansion to celebrate the end of the work.

Yet the explanation was simple: "we are the only residents."

"I know," Shanks sighed disappointedly, "Uta has become the singer she always wanted to be. And she's having a lot of fun with our favorite pink-haired stylist making these supercool outfits for her. Ace is going to become a great teacher for small schools and Sabo risks becoming president before he turns thirty. Of course, there's Zoro and Luffy, who stole Chopper, but they're not in prison yet so that's a good sign... I'm so proud of them for pursuing their dream away from home, but, well, I, I miss them."

Mihawk hummed as he felt the exact same contradictory feelings: those of pride and cruel miss.

Shanks quickly lost his sad smile and returned to his more characteristic cheeky one, "so I had an idea..."

"No."

"But…"

"No."

"It is…."

"No."

"Leave me…."

"N-"

Mihawk was cut off by the hand that fell over his mouth to stop him from speaking and he raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"Shall we adopt another child?" Shanks offered excitedly, "I want a little baby. I know what you're going to say but 43 and 39 isn't that old!"

Mihawk easily removed the hand from his mouth, but intertwined their fingers rather than letting go, "I'd ask Beck to watch the kids for a weekend if you're so desperate for parenting."

"I love our nephew and niece, but they're not ours," the redhead pouted, making his best puppy eyes.

"Very well," Mihawk began as it was proven long ago that he was incapable of fighting pleading eyes and a trembling pout,"we can have a cat."

Instead of being disappointed, Shanks jumped on the couch to get his phone, "Can we have a ginger one? They're completely crazy and stupid, I love them! Like they'll do the biggest stupid things in the world but we can't scold them because they're so cute."

"I confirm," Mihawk mocked, brushing a soft strand of red hair.

It took Shanks several seconds to understand and when he did, he dropped his phone to look at Mihawk in disbelief, "Did you just compare me to a ginger cat?"

"You say this yourself, I only agreed with your description."

"Well if I'm a ginger cat then you're a black kitten because you're all grumpy and lonely but you're so cute when you get your little claws out."

Mihawk rolled his eyes affectionately, even if he didn't yet know what new adventure he had just embarked on. He had a pretty good idea when Shanks started cringing at all the pictures of cute baby cats.

They ended up taking in three kittens - a black, a ginger, and a mix of the two - because they came from the same litter and a puppy with a deformity - it was missing a leg - out of solidarity, according to Shanks.