Chapter Text
Following the initial completion of Bullet’s medcheck, and his subsequent discharge from the operating table to one of the recovery beds that lined the medbay walls, Roger finally permitted himself the luxury of a sigh of relief after what felt like hours of holding his breath. The intense feelings of worry and unease that had sickened him from within since the moment he learned the truth of the young boy were calmed only following the lengthy, but overall positive prognosis regarding Bullet’s anticipated recovery. It likely wouldn’t be an easy recovery, but Crocus reckoned if Bullet was able to get himself to the Oro Jackson in the condition he was in, he should be able to bounce back and get himself off of it given time and the proper treatment plan, which was all the reassurance Roger needed after the afternoon of anxiety the kid has already put him through.
With his primary concern having been taken care of by Crocus, and his secondary concern currently being taken care of by Shanks in their shared room, Davy Jones bless that child’s soul, Roger bid the good doctor a farewell, leaving Bullet in his capable hands, before venturing out to find himself something to satiate the growling beast that was his stomach and think of something to do with the teenage boy he now had in his custody.
Roger had hoped that his crew would have gotten over the incident by now and at least gone back to talking to him normally, but that appeared to be too much to ask of the majority of Roger’s crew, who had taken to either bombarding him with questions he still didn’t have the answers to, or outright ignoring him altogether. It was a strange and uncomfortable situation to say the least, but if Roger wanted to make sure Bullet got what he needed and got out of here alive, he’d just have to suck it up and deal with his crew’s petulant ways of showing disapproval of their captain’s decisions.
By the time Roger arrived at the mess hall for that night’s dinner, Wilson had just begun laying out the plentiful feast that would serve as tonight’s dinner, and only a few off-duty members of the crew had arrived to claim the initial spots in the buffet line for when dinner finally was served. On any other day, Roger would have hardly bothered waiting in line for his own food, knowing full-well that as captain of this fine vessel he had not only the moral right, but also the physical strength, to shove himself into whatever position in line he damn-well desired, and his crew could either die mad about it or die trying to force him back out of line. Like in the majority of situations, Roger would usually get his way after a while if he dug his heels deep enough, and for a brief moment he contemplated trying his luck with it tonight as well. The plethora of glares and challenging looks he received immediately upon entering made it clear that today was probably going to be more of a “die trying” kind of day, and he’d be better off getting to the back of the line like everybody else for once.
“Well you’ve certainly landed yerself in quite the messy predicament, now haven’t ya?” Wilson jabs lightly from the kitchen area, a smug and teasing sneer spread across his face as his captain’s lack of usual assertiveness in who should be fed first does not go unnoticed by the ever-observant cook, as said captain had been hoping it would.
“Piss off, Wilson. Your opinion is the last thing I need right now” Roger retorts as he takes his usual seat at the bar, though his voice lacks the usual bite a taunt like that might have received, which only encourages the cook to continue.
“Really now? Because given the information our good friend Rayleigh came down and told us ‘bout a little while ago, my understanding of the situation is that we were attacked by a rabid teenage boy one mornin’, and despite flyin’ off into the distance to supposedly take care of this sudden threat, now we’re housin’ him within our very home like he didn’t try to sink her to the bottom of the ocean. Sounds ta me like you could use several of my opinions right now” Wilson states honestly, an amused grin spreading across his face as Roger turns to him with an annoyed glare.
“You can judge me for my decisions all you want, but just like I told Rayleigh earlier, I’m the captain around here, and I say no hurting kids, no matter what. Which unfortunately for you pathetic fucks means no hurting Bullet, not now or even after he’s finished recovering. I might not be the most honorable man in the world but I have some standards to hold myself to, you know” he argues, crossing his arms over his chest in petulant defiance.
Wilson chuckles knowingly. “This was never a question of your dedication to your moral code, captain. I think we’re all more than aware of how and why you feel the way you do about certain things, and while there are certain topics we disagree on, I feel confident saying that the grand majority of us agree with you about the important stuff.”
“Then what’s the fucking problem this time around?” Roger seethes through gritted teeth, quickly growing tired of all the ‘you’re right, but also you’re wrong because…’ bullshit his crew was throwing at him recently.
“How long’s the little brat gonna be mooching around here for?” A third voice suddenly interjects from somewhere behind the conversing pair, cutting Wilson off before he could even respond. Then again, by the look spreading across the older man’s face, it was likely exactly the question he was hoping would come up, but was hoping he wouldn’t have to ask himself.
Turning in his seat, Roger glares over his shoulder and finds himself wholly unsurprised when he’s finally met with the stern, unblinking glares of Duran (21), Vicky (20), Kelly (20), and Bryan (19), the four (previously) youngest members of the Roger pirates prior to Shanks and Buggy’s arrival, and four (current) biggest pains in the ass Roger has ever permitted aboard his ship, which says a lot considering he included himself in that list, as well.
“Oh great, ‘The Shitty Teen Squad’ has arrived, just what I need right now. Where the hell’s Kenai when you need him?” Roger groans under his breath as to not be heard, though the blatant rolling of his eyes that accompanied his scathing comment was nowhere near as well hidden. Wilson, barely suppressing a guttural laugh at the horrendous situation he’d indirectly landed his captain in, wisely excuses himself to finish setting up dinner, abandoning his captain to deal with the mountain of questions he’d been putting off from his crew since arriving back on the ship with the cause of this whole mess.
“Answer my damn question, old man. How long are you planning on letting that sleazy little rat hang around our main base of operations before you realize how much of a threat he is to us?” Duran demands, getting up from his seat and walking over to his captain, standing at full height before him in an attempt to appear more intimidating. It didn’t work of course, but Roger knew better than to say that to the guy whose “glowing” personality could only be surpassed by the bright neon shimmer of his orange hair.
“Duran, can we please not do this right now? I’m really not in the mood” Roger sighs heavily, his exhaustion and anxiety written clear across his face. Unfortunately for him, this does not appear to garner him any sympathy with the group of barely legal bastards from across the room, and given that the one person on this ship who could actually still put the sorry little sods in their place was usually blackout drunk under a table by this time of day, Roger highly doubted Kenai would be of much use to him right now even if he wanted to be.
“And let you get out of this without explaining yourself. Fat chance, its been three days already, captain, and we deserve an explanation, so start talking or else.”
“Ya, why don’t you ever tell us what’s going on when shit like this happens, instead of always leaving us in the dark until you feel like filling us in like we aren’t the ones who end up having to do all the work for you?”
“We have enough annoying little brats to look after with just the two you’ve already got, we don’t need anymore “babies” around to hold us back from doing what we wanna do when we wanna do it.”
It was in this moment that the remainder of the Shitty Teen Squad, consisting of Bryan, Vicky, and Kelly respectively, emboldened by the oldest of their group’s bold display of assertiveness toward their captain, decided it was now their turn to pitch in on the matter. That in and of itself was hard enough for Roger to put up with, but barely even a few seconds pass and soon their taunts were joined by some of the other Roger pirates, who’d slowly made their way into the mess hall throughout the duration of Roger’s conversations, and began hurling their own stream of questions and jabs and all manner of other unnecessary comments in a unanimous pile at their captain’s feet, barking and yapping and growing louder and louder until the sound of voices but no discernible language was all that filled Roger’s ears, bouncing off the inner walls of his cranium and beating down against the little sliver of patience the raven haired man has left for this situation until-
“ ENOUGH. ” Roger howls, banging his fist against the bar’s surface as an instantaneous, but all-consuming wave of conquerors haki suddenly bursts forth from the overwhelmed man, ending just as abruptly as it arrived as to prevent any mass faintings among the weaker members of the crew, yet still causing any and all movement or sounds from his crewmen to stop dead in their tracks. Every pair of eyes that weren’t his own stared intensely at Roger, the newer members shocked and awed by the intenseness and ferocity of such a momentary burst of power that left them with swimming heads and shaking knees. The other, more veteran crewmen simply shook their heads or shrugged their shoulders, watching their hotheaded subordinates quickly learn how not to approach their captain with an issue or concern in much the same way they themselves had once learned when they joined all those years ago.
“Now, let’s get one thing straight here, in case we all needed a little reminder…” Roger growls menacingly, pushing his sweat stained hair out of his face and taking a few short steps to stand in the middle of the room, where Duran had been forced back following the haki blast. “I don’t know where we got it in our heads that this was how we exercise our rights to a democratic hearing with the captain of a ship, or that we were so pathetic a group of men to need to beat up on actual teenagers who are out of their fucking league in order to feel something about ourselves, but I’ve decided from here on out that if the positively childish behavior I’m witnessing from all of you right now continues like this, I’ll not be listening to another word you have to say about this. From ANY of you. Is that clear?”
Duran, in addition to everyone else who’d had some choice words to share just a moment ago, now remained utterly silent while keenly trying their best to avoid the stern gaze that their captain was slowly leveling at each and every one of them, as he slowly began to exit the mess hall, his appetite and general desire to eat with his crew having been ruined for this meal.
“My order from earlier still stands firm and will continue to stand for as long as Bullet remains on this ship to recover from his injuries, which will be as long as it fucking takes and I won’t hear another argument about that. He stays until he’s healed, but once he has reached the point where Crocus is ready to discharge him, we’ll talk and let him decide where he wants to go from there. And for those of you who are really and truly worried that Bullet might cause us trouble between now and when we can finally release him or make a scene out of this if we do let him go peacefully, I’ll be sure to handle him once he wakes up and make sure he understands the gravity of the situation he’s gotten himself into, and more importantly who really came out on top of it at the end of the day. That sound agreeable to you lot?” Roger states firmly, not enjoying the idea of whatever his inevitable “talk” with Bullet might end up turning into given the boy’s previous reaction to being reasoned with, but also knowing that he could end up with something way worse on his hands if he didn’t appeal at least a little bit to his men’s concerns regarding whatever threat the young teen may still pose to them.
Given the condition Roger saw the young blonde in just hours earlier, still wrapped in stiff bandages from head to toe and hooked up to just about every machine and drug that Crocus has in his arsenal, Roger highly doubted that Bullet would be making anything close to a ruckus anytime soon, but at this point if it meant his crew would stop acting like he’d betrayed them all for not wanting a stupid delusional teen to die via his own stupidity, then he’d say whatever he needed to say in order to make they understand where he was coming from on this.
Once Roger had finished his promise to handle Bullet himself, a good majority of the present men deflated in relief, seemingly satisfied now that they knew Roger wasn’t planning on completely letting the kid off the hook following his fairly egregious crime, though some still clearly would prefer to toss his ass overboard given the opportunity. While not a completely reassuring conclusion for Roger, he was willing to call this situation enough of a win to have earned him an immediate retirement to his own personal quarters for the night, or at least until the coast was clear for a midnight snack mission later on.
“How do you know he isn’t lying to us? About all of this?” Bryan asks bluntly, to the shock of his immediate friend group as well as the rest of the present crewmen, causing the Roger to pause in his spot at the door for a moment, before wordlessly reaching into his pocket and procuring the same piece of evidence he’d used to convince Rayleigh of this fact several hours earlier.
“Take a look at this and figure it out for yourselves if you really still don’t believe me, but having once been hopeless teens left to fend for yourselves in a world that would sooner laugh at your misery than extend a hand in assistance, I’d have hoped that you four would have been more sympathetic to Bullet’s plight. Particularly you, Bryan . The other three I can expect this kind of selfish pig headedness from, but you… I expected better. And I know for a fact that Kenai expects better from all four of you” Roger pauses, turning to stare the young man dead in the eyes as his words slice the young man deeper than any knife ever could, his innocent curiosity slowly morphing into an expression of pure shame and disappointment, quickly followed by the other three young men, who clearly shared their friend’s sudden guilt and embarrassment.
“Now, if you all want to keep arguing amongst yourselves about what is or isn’t going to happen to Bullet from this point forward, feel free to do so, but whatever it is you have to say, don’t fucking bring it to me unless its important, or offers another peaceful solution to getting Bullet on his way, but unless it meets those two qualifications, I. Don’t. Wanna. Hear IT!” The raven haired man says before promptly opening and slamming the mess hall door shut behind him, finally putting a bit of separation between himself and the utter madness that is his own goddamn crew.
Without even having to wait for too long, Roger can already hear the beginnings of conversations taking place from within the mess hall, most, if not all, pertaining to the rusty old dog tags he’d just supplied his men with in the hopes of getting them to shut the hell up about this. A part of him couldn't help but be slightly annoyed that it took shoving the physical proof into their faces, but upon hearing the chorus of questions and disbelieving comments regarding the very date that had tipped Roger off to the cold hard truth behind the mystery military boy who’d slammed his way into their day (and now onto their ship apparently), he couldn’t help but feel a little bit more at ease with Bullet’s overall safety around his men. He still had Buggy, and to a lesser degree Shanks, to contend with here, but hopefully if Shanks was able to keep Buggy from murdering Bullet this long, he’d be able to continue doing so until the blonde could do so for himself again.
Speaking of Bullet, and his inevitable rousing from the drug induced sleep he’d been forced into upon his arrival, what was Roger going to do when that happened? He knew he had to think of something, and ideally something that would prevent the kid from going totally apeshit and running off before he’s fully healed like he tried to before, but if Bullet really and truly didn’t want to listen to him when he finally woke up, then Roger supposed there wasn’t much he could do to actually force the kid to stay if he just up and left when no one was looking. Then again… maybe Roger didn’t have to force Bullet to stay necessarily.
It took a few minutes of aimless pacing and thinking his way around the ship before something even remotely solid or plan-like was formed within the dark and twisted caverns of Roger’s mind, but once he did have something, his next steps became as clear to him as a full-moon night.
Walking out onto the main deck of the ship, Roger pauses for a moment to take in the astounding beauty and glory that was his very own beloved ship. Of all the nakama a pirate captain would make for himself in a lifetime, his ship would forever and always be the only one who never questioned his orders. Many pirates, even some of the Old Way, have come to completely disregard the tales and legends once told of the very real souls who inhabited the very alive vessels they called home, but like many aspects of life, Roger knew better than to let ignorant disbelievers make him lose sight of the Old Way’s magic or worse, taint the incredible bond he’d forged with his equally incredible ship.
Oro may not have been the first ship the Roger pirates have called home across their many years of adventures, but since receiving her as heartwarming a gift from his dear friend Tom down in Water 7, Oro had acted as the guiding light and steady rock of the Roger pirates, always ready and eager to set sail in whatever direction her precious crew pointed her, so long as there was adventure to be had and nakama to share those adventures with.
Roger, as a mere mortal man, had very little to offer the soul of a ship, whose singular desire in life was to carry its crew to the farthest reaches of the world before looping around and doing the whole thing all over again. But if Oro could find it within herself to offer up such unyielding loyalty and trust to the absolute moron of a man who captained her, then it was only fair that Roger show her the same unyielding loyalty and trust for the issues that required a bit more of an… indirect approach.
“Aright Oro, my gorgeous girl, I probably should have let you handle this mess from the very beginning like usual, but what’s done is done and unfortunately it looks like we’ve got quite the sticky situation on our hands now” Roger says aloud to the open air. “I know you’re probably busy recovering from your own injuries at the moment, and I promise we’ll get the damage to your side fixed as soon as we can track down a shipwright tomorrow morning, but right now me and the rest of the crew are too riled up about what happened to handle this properly, and I think we could all really use your feminine touch right about now.”
Silence falls over the main deck as Roger’s eyes finally lock onto the ship’s primary mast. Walking over to the large beam of wood that strongly and securely held some of the most integral parts of the ship aloft and in its proper place, Roger reached forward, firmly placing his hand against the cool wooden surface before closing his eyes in concentration, reaching outward with his haki for the Voice of his most trustworthy and dedicated crewmate, who he seldom got to speak with unless absolutely necessary, but who he cherished just as much as his own children, in the rare but wonderful moments she did reveal herself.
“I'm not sure what you think will be the best way of dealing with this, or how keen you yourself are on having Bullet here after what he did to you. But if you feel even remotely the way about this as I do, then…” Roger says as the beginnings of a wide and knowing smile slowly spreads across his face, “you already know exactly what you need to do, don’t you, girl?”
Without so much as another word, Roger turns away from Oro’s mast and begins making his way back toward below deck, but not before a sudden gust of wind from seemingly out of nowhere comes barreling toward Roger, twisting and turning itself around the raven haired man and trapping him within a miniature tornado that would have likely taken anyone weaker, or dumb enough to fight the current, right off their feet. But Roger knew better. Roger knew much much better than to fight the wispy streams of air that surrounded him from all sides, licking at his clothing and whipping his hair to and fro.
From deep within the howling maelstrom of wind and water, Roger heard a faint noise. It started out quiet, barely discernible at first, as it usually did, but with each passing second the noise grew louder, slowly but surely overcoming the cold and uninviting cries of the surrounding winds with a chorus of excited shreeks and laughter that grew in intensity and passion until Roger swears the source could only be coming from within his own mind, rather than from the world around him, until finally, everything stops.
At first there was only silence, but then… Her!
“Don’t you worry about me, Captain, it’ll take a lot more than a weak punch from some teenage dirtbag to keep the Mighty Oro Jackson down! I’ll be sure to keep an eye on Bullet and make sure nothing happens to him until we can figure this out. No matter what you decide to do though, you’ll always be able to count on me!”
“I know I will!” Roger says kindly, as Oro’s promise all but melts away the remainder of his worries about this whole fiasco. “And that’s why you’ll always be my favorite girl, Oro!”
No further responses could be heard from the incorporeal voice following Roger’s response, but somewhere deep within himself, he knew that Oro had heard him, and more importantly than that, he knew she felt the same way about him.
Roger didn’t always have the pleasure of communing with the spirit of his vessel like in the exaggerated stories he’s heard throughout his life, but within those brief flashes of time his very own Klabautermann permitted him, during the days when he needed her most, she always made herself present, she always made herself heard, and she always did whatever it was she could, for the sake of her beloved nakama, and her absolute favorite captain!