Chapter Text
It was raining as if the sky was falling down. And he felt like it really was. Buggy was staring at his best friend unbelievingly.
"But I've changed my mind... for now at least." Shanks had said mere moments ago. "I'm not ready to go for it yet."
His heart had sunk at the words.
"WHAAAT?" Buggy had exclaimed.
He felt betrayed. The one person Buggy wanted to earn Roger's title, the only one who deserved it. The only person he would follow to the end of the world and back without hesitation. The only man he would give up fame or fortune for... was now shunning all of it.
Buggy had misjudged him. Nothing had hurt this much until now.
The rain increased as his thoughts spiraled in his rage.
"Come with me, Buggy!" Shanks reached out, trying again.
"I'M NOT GOING TO WORK UNDER YOU, IDIOT!" He shouted back.
He had no idea if the water dripping on his face was from the rain or his tears. He couldn't believe that this was happening. This was not the Shanks he knew. This was not the boy he had slowly started to fall for. This was not the boy who tried holding his hand every time they were on night watch duty. It was not the one who howled at the sky and jumped in excitement when Buggy finally did. This Shanks looked as hollow, as Buggy felt. And he couldn't have that. He refused to accept it.
So he did what any other boy his age would when overwhelmed - he ran. He started running and running, the sound of his shoes splotching in the forming puddles. His vision was getting increasingly blurry and his breathing harder. Still, he couldn't stop running away from Shanks. Because that would mean that he would hear his voice again - calling for him, or maybe he wouldn't hear anything. He was afraid that Shanks was running after him, or that he would never chase after him. He couldn't tell which was worse...
So he kept running and running. Until he bumped into something. Buggy fell backward on the cold floor.
An older man was standing in front of him. Buggy didn't know why but he had an uneasy feeling. "Is this him?" The man asked. Someone from the left answered in the affirmative and Buggy knew he was in trouble. He tried scrambling backwards but he felt another obstacle. He looked up to see a looming figure grinning at him. The boy looked around, seeing that he was being circled in all directions. He felt like he was going to have a panic attack.
This couldn't be happening. Not right after he watched the closest thing to a father figure he had died. He couldn't be helpless again. He looked for an opening. Spotting a small hole between a shorter person in the group and a woman, he tried crawl-running to get out of the corner he was backed into. He flailed his arms and legs to no avail as he realized that he was being held still. Trying to scream for help, he shouted and wailed for no one to hear him. The heart in his ribcage pounded as if trying to escape but it was as restrained as he was now. The people had tied his arms and legs tightly, leaving no room for moving or fidgeting, and Buggy was almost certain he could feel the blood circulation in his limbs stop as well. He was gagged, blindfolded, and chained again. "You can never be too sure." One of them said. "He's one of Roger's crew after all."
If it were even possible, Buggy started panicking even more.
He would have used his devil fruit until now, but the first thing they did, was to slip sea stone cuffs on him. It was hard to struggle anyway, let alone with them on. He was convinced the only reason he could still try to resist, was because of the shock and adrenaline pumping through every inch of his body. He tried struggling once more as he got tossed over one of the men's shoulders like a sack of dirty potatoes. He was getting weak and drowsy. The cuffs were draining him and for a split second, he wondered if he wanted to see Shanks running after him one more time. But then he brushed the thought away. Wanting that coward to save him was the last thing on his mind. Not to mention that he would escape. He always did. And when he got away, he would become the best and most feared pirate at sea. He would get rich beyond belief and would show that bastard Shanks what he was made of.
He felt his body thump on a wooden floor and heard the familiar sound of the ocean. A pair of hands tied him to something to prevent him from moving around. There was a chuckle that made Buggy's stomach churn. "Hang in there little bud. And don't move too much because we'll need you alive." The voice spoke with an upbeat tone that made Buggy feel sick.
Something in the back of his head told him that maybe he wasn't going to get out of this one...
Shanks ran around in the rain. He cursed himself for not immediately rushing after him. The loud roar of thunder and rain made it hard for Shanks to follow the sound. He could have sworn that just a minute ago he had heard Buggy screaming. He tried following where he heard it from and even calling for him but to no avail. He bumped into someone at the town center. He decided there was no harm in asking. So he did - he asked if they'd seen a boy with blue hair and a hat with a pompon on top. The person thought about it and said they thought they saw someone like that just now, walking down the street. Shanks sighed in relief. If Buggy was well enough to not make this person who saw him concerned, then maybe the scream he heard wasn't a scream at all. Maybe it was just the lightning.
He thanked the person and started calmly walking down the street which was said to be the direction that Buggy took.
That was a mistake on two accounts. First - the boy that the person saw was in fact not with blue hair - it had only looked so when in the dim rainy weather. And the boy was also certainly not Buggy. Buggy was already tens of meters into the sea and on his way to an unknown destination. Secondly - Shanks wouldn't know it at that time or until later on, but that would be the last time he saw Buggy for more than twenty years. And when he finally does, he will meet him as a mere shell of his former self. And that is something that future Shanks would never forgive his former self.
Buggy wasn't sure how many days had passed since he was on that ship. The meals were inconsistent. They were gross and smelled of rot. He tried complaining a couple of times, but each complaint resulted in a kick in the gut. One time the person feeding him was so aggravated that he kicked him until Buggy threw up all the food he had just consumed. Then he yelled at him for staining his boots and continued kicking him until he got tired. No one took any of the restraints off Buggy. The cuffs, rope, and chains stayed on at all times. The only thing that they took off was the piece of cloth they had in his mouth to shut him up. The only reason why they did was because having to take it off and put it back on would have been tedious every time they fed him or wanted him to answer a question.
They sometimes asked him questions like "Were you really on Roger's crew?" or "Do you keep in contact with any of your former crewmates?"
At first, Buggy was too shocked to answer any of them, but thankfully they always needed to do something on the ship as they were only a handful of people and didn't have enough time to keep prodding him for answers. Then they would laugh in a way that made Buggy's skin crawl, and tell him something along the lines of having plenty of time to answer everything soon enough. Buggy wasn't sure what that meant, but he was terrified of the implications.
Finally, the ship arrived at its destination. Buggy had the slightest hope that it would mean he could be free. But that hope was short-lived as he was carried and tossed into another place. He was still blindfolded and didn't know where he was, but the floors were no longer wooden - instead a cold and unwelcoming cement. He couldn't ever believe he would miss the hard wooden floors that would creek under him. As uncomfortable as they were, they were way more preferable to the floors and walls so cold to the touch he could feel himself throwing a coughing fit only ten minutes after staying in the room.
One of the nicer kidnappers walked in. Buggy had learned to recognize them by their footsteps alone. The sound was different than it was when on wood, but the heaviness and walk were still somewhat recognizable. They took off the chains and then the rope. Just as Buggy was starting to gain hope, He felt a chain being connected to his cuffs and onto something on the wall. The blindfold was taken off to reveal a dark and gray room with nothing but the two people in it. The person in front of him gave him a small and apologetic smile.
"They told me to welcome you to your new home but if you give us what we want, I hope this won't have to be a permanent arrangement."
Buggy could do nothing but stare at the person. Their words echoed through his head as he realized too late what they meant. The door was shut again and it was heavy and thick. He wanted to start crying but he was too tired and dehydrated to produce any tears. He just started dry crying.