Chapter Text
Routine is a treacherous thing.
Isn’t it easier to simply settle down? Isn’t it easier, comforting, even, to feel safe? To, in some way or another, slowly start to push certain things, things that before seemed so important, to the back of your mind? Daily life can be so exhausting sometimes, especially if you feel like you have to compensate for some past mistake. Isn’t it better, smarter, to just live one day at a time?
Many, many years down the road, both Deadman Rouge and Buggy the Clown would agree that routine is a sweet trap for someone who is feeling truly out of their depth. But that is for much, much later. For now, for both of them, denial is just a river in Alabasta.
And routine is just avoiding the inevitable.
Ace was five years old. There were days in which Rouge felt like time was slipping through her fingers: Ace was growing up so fast. He talked a lot now, ran instead of walking, and had already picked up fights with every single other kid in the village, including the older ones (and won).
Of course he always won. He was hers and Roger’s child, after all. She tried and failed not to feel too smug next to the furious other mothers. Cattleya would probably admonish her if the young woman were still around.
These days, Cat was spending most of her time away in the Capital of the Goa Kingdom, finishing her internship in the local hospital. Soon, she would be a certified doctor. Rouge was truly happy that the girl was focusing on her own career, but her absence had hit Ace very hard. His other closest friend, the fourteen-year-old Makino, also had her hands full with both of her parents, who had fallen sick, and had little time to entertain an energetic five-year-old.
To both ease Makino’s burden and appease Ace, Rouge assumed the job of sailing the bar’s little boat to the Capital to bring in their supplies. It was a piss poor substitute for the Weeping Eurydice, but at the very least, Rouge was out in the ocean again. She almost cried in relief the first time she set foot in the little starter boat; it was as if she was reconciling with a lost part of herself.
And maybe she was.
Ace also loved their little incursions to the Capital. Not only because he got to see his auntie Cat, but he also always treated the short trips as a big adventure. Ace didn’t care much for the city, but loved the sea, and Rouge felt so glad she could share that love with her son.
Rouge hadn’t told Ace about who she really was: the captain of the Deadman’s Hand pirates from the New World. She had definitely not told him about his father: how do you even try to explain Gol D. Roger to the child he left behind? Ace was just five: they still had time for her to ease him to the idea of being the son of the infamous King of the Pirates, and all that it implied. The execution had been more than six years ago, but people still whispered Roger’s name as if he were the devil. Above it all, Ace was still in danger: he would be in danger for as long as he lived or, at the very least, until some other idiot claimed the title of King of the Pirates and earned the ire of the World Government. And that was her being optimistic.
Reality was way, way crueler.
Rouge had tried; she truly did. She sent out coded messages in the newspaper, but there was no response from her crew. It was frustrating: Rouge seriously didn’t know what to make of that. On the one hand, not a single one of them had been arrested, but on the other, they had also completely disappeared from the news. She could take an educated guess on where a few of her friends would go if the crew ever disbanded, but she couldn’t understand why every single one of them had cut contact with the world. As for the Roger Pirates, according to Garp, the Marines were still hot in Rayleigh and the others' pursuit, so she couldn’t possibly risk contacting them.
With no exit from Foosha Village in sight, Rouge focused on regaining her strength while raising Ace. Funnily enough, Ace also quite liked to follow her around when she was training, and even attempted to copy her movements. He did it all with that focused, slightly grumpy frown between his eyes that had become his signature look.
It was seriously cute, but Rouge wondered sometimes. Ace seemed to be always deep in thought, which was weirdly unnerving for a child that young. For a while, she had worried he was already awakening his Observation Haki, but after a few delicate questions that Ace seemed to answer truthfully, she pushed that worry aside.
In the end, Ace seemed to be just naturally grumpy. Makino found it adorable. Which was great news for her son, who had a puppy crush on the teenager.
Cattleya, for her part, was also becoming progressively grumpier, but Rouge ascribed that to her studies and her disturbing newfound addiction to caffeine.
Maybe Woop Slap, the grumpiest of them all, was rubbing off on all of them. Who knows.
Rouge tried to keep a positive attitude while surrounded by little gremlins. Foosha village was even starting to grow on her a bit. Having a boat again, as pathetic as she was, was definitely helping. She tried to convince herself that she had done everything she could, and now it was a game of patience and waiting. Waiting for any signal from her or Roger’s crewmates. Waiting for her Haki to come back. Waiting for Ace to grow up.
But of course, the world doesn’t slow down for routine forever, no matter how comforting it may be.
It happened on one of the few weekends when Cattleya was back home.
They were at the bar before opening hours. Makino and Cattleya were upstairs; the promising doctor was checking on the elderly couple in bed rest. Pneumonia was a serious disease, whether at sea or when you are stranded on land. Rouge was once again helping around in the bar, scrubbing the floor with the same intensity she would do her deck. Ace was helping her too, by keeping Luffy out of her way.
Luffy was a strange kid. Rouge didn’t have much experience with babies, but one would have thought that a child who gets passed around between families like a hot potato would have some issues. However, Luffy was in a constant state of cheerfulness that was honestly a bit annoying. He blabled constantly, always trying to run more than his short little legs could carry him, and reaching for things he was not supposed to touch. And he loved Ace.
Ace hated Luffy with passion.
Ace always had little to no patience for kids younger than him, but he seemed to especially dislike Luffy. Rouge couldn’t tell if he was jealous that Luffy was now getting all the attention that before belonged to Ace, or if it was something else, but overall, she found the whole situation hilarious. Maybe it was only her genes acting up and telling him to stay away from anyone with the name Monkey D.
Either way, Ace was begrudgingly entertaining the two-year-old over the counter. It was very cute, actually. They were sitting with their legs crossed, facing each other, while Ace tried - and failed - to explain the rules of the card game laid between them. The last time she had checked on them, Luffy had tried to eat one of the cards and got punched by Ace for his troubles. He cried until Ace snapped that he was a crybaby, which made Luffy forcibly shut his mouth.
If she had a Den Den in hand, she would have snapped a picture.
The News Coo arrived right on time, gently landing on one of the windowsills, distracting both of the boys. Luffy made grabby hands for the bird, but Ace pushed him back into place. Rouge messed both of the boys' hair before paying off the bird and collecting the newspaper.
Rouge sat down in one of the barstools, and Ace immediately jumped down to her lap. Luffy pouted, but a deadly glare from Ace kept him firmly sitting on the counter. The pirate just snorted; better let the kids figure it out for themselves.
The main news was about a clash between White Beard, Big Mom, and Kaidou in the second part of the Grand Line. Apparently, the formerly three big hitters from Rock’s crew were still fighting over the place left behind by Roger. Or, at very least, that was what the journalists were speculating. Rouge tapped her finger on the counter, considering it. Knowing Newgate, it was very likely he was simply taking control of more islands related to his growing crew. That bastard was a big softy, after all: Rouge genuinely respected how he considered and treated his nakamas as family. Honestly, it was a good thing someone was trying to put together some semblance of order in the New World.
As for Big Mom, her appetite knew no boundaries. She was definitely aiming for the One Piece, and was taking the opportunity to grab any and all information she could from her former crewmates. Well, she was due for a rude awakening. Roger could act like an idiot most of the time, but he knew exactly what he was doing when he set the gears of destiny in motion. Big Mom was not the pirate Roger had been waiting for.
On the counter, Luffy was picking his nose. She batted his hand away when he tried to eat his boogers.
And Kaidou could fuck off, for all that Rouge cared. That man was a grade A asshole, with very little inside his hard head other than violence. Not in the cool, ‘I’m gonna kick your ass’ kind of way, but in the tired ‘I’m strong, everyone is weak’ kind of way. Kaidou bored Rouge to tears. The fucker never got over his hang-ups from back when he was under Rock’s command, and was probably using this opportunity to throw hands with Newgate and Lillin. Fucking asshole.
She kept reading, but as before, there was not a single mention of any of her crewmates, which was genuinely disturbing. She honestly expected Mukuro and Shooter to be committing unspeakable acts of terrorism against the World Nobles, and Stein to be just committing crimes against humanity in general. Maybe Marie was keeping him in line. Maybe Yato had gone back to Wano and taken his apprentice with him. Maybe Pinako had gone back to Water Seven. Maybe.
With a heavy sigh, she continued reading the newspaper. There was a brief mention of Gabban, but only that he had been spotted in the proximity of Elbaf. Good fucking luck with that, Marines. They had very few men who could face Gabban in a fight, and NONE that could get into Elbaf. There was also a brief note about the self-proclaimed ‘Revolutionary Army’, but the World Government didn’t seem to be taking them as seriously as they should yet. Rouge wondered if Garp had succeeded in hiding Dragon’s part on it.
She finished the Grand Line part of the paper and turned to the East Blue section. There was a surprising amount of shit going down on their little corner of the world. The Civil War in the Oykot Kingdom was still going on; floods were happening in Cozia Island; and another bar was burned to the ground in Mirror Ball Island after a dance competition had escalated into a brawl.
Let’s not forget the crux of it all: Loguetown.
With a pang in her chest, Rouge started reading the news about the town of the beginning and the end, as the newspapers had started to call it. Roger’s birthplace. The place where he met Rayleight and set out to the sea. The place where he was executed. The place where all the East Blue pirates eventually gathered before setting sail to find the One Piece. The place…
Rouge froze, losing her breath for a moment. She read the small report again. And again. And then she almost crushed the paper in her hands.
On her lap, Ace had fallen suddenly asleep, as he usually did; Cattleya suspected he was narcoleptic, but Woop Slap was sure he was not. She picked Ace up and gently laid him down atop one of the tables. It was not the best spot for a nap, but honestly, her son had fallen asleep in way weirder places before. Little Luffy was no better, also half-asleep, still sitting on the counter. With trembling hands, she picked him up and put him down by Ace’s side, where he promptly succumbed to sleep.
With the two children taken care of, Rouge sought solace in the bar’s small kitchen. She rested her back against the cabinets and took a deep, calming breath, before opening the newspaper again.
It was a throwaway mention, barely worth a thought for most readers. There was a sneaky thief that the Marines were struggling to catch in Loguetown. Just another one out of many; the city was enormous, the biggest in the East Blue, and half of it was riddled with crime. Another consequence of Roger’s bold declaration. Of course, the Marines didn’t have the resources to investigate every single petty theft that happened in the city. The best they could do was spread the word so the citizens would be alert to the presence of a thief with blue hair.
Blue hair, and a big red nose.
The tip of her fingers ran gently over the words.
“Buggy,” Rouge whispered. One of Roger’s brats. “Is that really you?”
She could picture him so clearly in her mind, from the last time they had met: Eleven or twelve years old, his hair hidden by a knitted hat, knives between his knuckles, and a bravado he clearly didn’t feel, but still standing strong by Shanks’ side. Always by Shanks’ side. Rouge couldn’t picture one without invoking the memory of the other. She couldn’t imagine the pair of them hanging around Loguetown six years after Roger’s execution.
Could it really be Buggy?
She didn’t want to feel hopeful, only to have her expectations crushed by reality. Why would Buggy be running around Loguetown robbing some nobodies blind? He should be twenty now, and he was a New World veteran, raised by the King of Pirates and trained by the Dark King himself. He was too much of a big fish for the small pond that was the East Blue.
But so was she.
The sound of the stairs creaking brought Rouge back to the present. She left the kitchen and came face-to-face with a tired-looking Cattleya. The girl was letting her hair grow again, her beautiful curls pulled back in a messy high bun.
“It’s not looking good, but I think they will pull through this time,” she said unprompted. She ran a hand over her face. “Makino is trying to be strong, but I think she can feel they have a couple of rough years ahead of them.”
“I see,” Rouge said slowly, still trying to put her thoughts in order.
Cattleya frowned, her purple eyes fixed on the crushed paper in her hands.
“What happened?” She asked.
To hope or not to hope, that is the question.
“We may have a lead.”
Cattleya was not impressed by Rouge’s brief (and uncharacteristic) hesitation.
“What the fuck. Just go!” She had said.
And so, Rouge left Ace in her care, hitched a ride with a few fishermen who were regulars at Partys Bar, and went to the town of the beginning and the end.
There were many emotions attached to the city, most of them because of Roger, but surprisingly enough, her late husband held no particular strong feelings for the place. He liked Loguetown just fine, as well as a few old acquaintances, but Roger was not a creature of nostalgia. He left the town to turn the world upside down, and had never once looked back. His stories about Loguetown had been few and far between his more exciting adventures in the Grand Line. If the Marines thought they were inflicting some grand punishment on him for executing him in his hometown, they had failed once again. Dramatic as he was, Roger probably laughed his ass off.
Rouge missed him so much that it hurt.
She had no time to dwell on her emotions, though. Loguetown was teeming with Marines and rookie pirates alike, and literally the last thing she needed was for someone to recognize her. Rouge trusted the same disguise she had used in Baterilla: she had let her long hair loose, crowned with flowers, a floating light dress that surprisingly covered her many, many hidden knives quite well, and a jaunty attitude that showed the world she had nothing to hide.
Rouge supposed she should thank the photographer who was responsible for her Wanted Poster. Apparently, it was really hard to recognize her when not covered in blood and cackling like a maniac with an Ace of Spades between her teeth. Her signature weapon, a deck of sharp steel cards, was safely hidden on the chest she had buried in their little backyard, under the growing hibiscus tree Cattleya had planted.
Today, all the glances she was receiving were because she was just hot. Roger would have been so jealous; it would have been hilarious.
Rouge had absolutely no desire to see the infamous scaffolded tower at the heart of Loguetown. Roger’s absence was enough to give her nightmares; she didn’t need any more of those problems. She went against the influx of curious people looking for the execution platform and made her way across the city, taking the hidden paths and back alleys, following that presence that was familiar and, at the same time, so different.
She had been slowly, torturously slowly, regaining her Haki. Rouge was still not sure what that was all about; her best guess was that the twenty months of usage and being clinically dead for three minutes had reset her Haki back to zero or something like that; as if she was a newborn again. It was not a good explanation, but it was the only one she had. That being the case or not, the fact was that she was able to use Observation Haki again, even if for short periods of time.
It was more than enough to find Buggy in Loguetown, though. The city was huge, for sure, but the kid’s presence screamed grief.
Story of her life.
Rouge followed Buggy’s voice to a dingy bar and - oh, for fucks sake, someone was messing with her. The damn place was called GOLD ROGER BAR. Of all the uncreative, piss-poor excuses for a homage they could have picked, they went with this??? It was not even his real name!
The pirate took a deep breath, and shook her head. She was not here to set history straight; she was here to ask Buggy for help. Although finding him hanging around in a place like this didn’t bode well. She threw the doors open and confidently stepped forward.
The place was a dump. Like, a serious dump. Grand Line levels of dump. There was a thick layer of dust covering everything; all the chairs were upside down on the tables; the floor and the old bottles behind the bar counter were also covered in dust and grease. Half of the lights were off, and the few that were struggling to work were flickering. The old man behind the counter didn’t even raise his head from his newspaper to greet her. She seriously doubted the place had seen much business aside from the single man sleeping with his head on a table in the back, surrounded by empty bottles.
Despite herself, Rouge felt another pang in her heart. Roger had never wanted this for one of his boys. Especially not for them to be apart.
(Shanks was nowhere on the island. Rouge had no doubts that, weak Haki or not, she could miss such a presence).
Resolute and unswerving, Rouge strode straight to Buggy. The boy didn’t move or give any sign of noticing her, which was definitely a problem. A former Roger pirate should not be so vulnerable in Loguetown, of all places. She pulled one of the chairs, dragging it across the dirty floor, and even that didn’t stir him. Buggy was out cold.
“Buggy,” she called softly, in the same tone she used to wake Ace up. “Buggy, what are you doing here?”
There was only a low grumble in response. Rouge resisted the urge to slap some sense into him. Instead, she took off his threadbare knitted hat and started to card her fingers through his blue hair.
“Buggy, time to wake up.”
He shuddered, and asked in a small voice: "Captain?"
Rouge let out a deep breath.
“Sorry, kid, I don’t think I can pull off that mustache,” she said in response.
Slowly, Buggy started to raise his head. Unblinking bloodshot eyes found hers. There was a small trail of blood drying on his forehead.
“Deadman Rouge?” he asked, uncertain. “Am I dead? Is this hell?”
Despite herself, Rouge chuckled.
“If it were, Roger would be here with us, don’t you think?”
Finally properly startled, Buggy scrambled to his feet, his chair falling back behind him. He pointed a trembling finger at her and screeched:
“Deadman Rouge?”
“Yes, we covered that already, Buggy,” she answered, impatient. Rouge reclined on her chair, crossing her arms. “Now, for the question that actually matters: what are you doing in a place like this?”
The young man ran a hand over his face, trying to gather his thoughts. His eyes found his hat on the table, and he hastily shoved it back on his head, covering his beautiful hair. Rouge had always loved Buggy’s hair colour.
“What? Can't I be in a bar in peace?” he asked, petulant.
Rouge bit back a bad joke about him not being twenty-one yet.
“It’s been six years, Buggy,” she said gently, but even then, he still shuddered. “What are you still doing in Logetown?”
“Why do you fucking care?” He finally snapped.
Good. That was the anger she had been expecting. She could work with that. It meant his spirit was not yet broken.
“Sit down,” she commanded.
He immediately obeyed.
“Let’s skip the pretenses, Buggy,” she said, not unkindly. “I was Roger’s lover. You are one of his kids. Of course I care.”
Buggy let out a bitter laugh, not meeting her eyes.
“Was I ever?” he wondered out loud.
“Near the end, he only talked about you both,” she told him honestly. Well, of Ace too, but this was not the place to disclose such a secret.
The boy didn’t seem convinced and only shook his head, saying nothing.
“Where is Shanks?” she asked.
It was the wrong thing to ask, she realised immediately. Buggy became stiff, and sent her a cold glare.
“Of course you’re here for him,” he growled, standing up once again. “I don’t know where he is, so stop pretending you care about me and fuck off.”
He was about to storm out, but Rouge stopped him. His voice was full of anger, but his Voice was just abandonment and grief. So Rouge did the only thing she could:
She pulled Buggy into a crushing hug.
“How could I not care,” she whispered against his hair. “When you are also a part of Roger that he left behind?”
And Buggy also did the only thing he could:
He hugged her back with a heartbreaking cry.