Chapter Text
It isn’t very often that the Roger pirates happen upon a pirate crew that is able to give then a run for their money, to challenge them in a way that gets their blood pumping and their hearts beating as they exchange hits and blows, death just a breath away at all times. These sorts of pirate crews are few and far in between as it it, and the fact that the Roger pirates had only just re-entered the Grand Line a few weeks ago after 2 years of touring around the Blue Seas, and picking up a couple of adorable little rascals along the way, made the group of pirates eager and restless for a good fight with a worthy rival crew, and who better to provide such a challenge than the Whitebeard Pirates themselves.
Although Roger and Whitebeard are good friends, and have been for many years now, neither man was against the idea of a good, friendly scuffle between crews. Of course this was not the kind of scuffle that would end with dead nakama, like many of the fights between enemy crews could, and usually do, but it was a good way for the Roger pirates to loosen their stiff muscles and sharpen their fighting skills back up after such a long period of time back in the peaceful tranquility of the blue seas.
“Newgate” Roger calls from the front of the Oro Jackson, standing tall and proud as he regards the larger man, who stands in a similar pose at the front of his own ship, the Moby Dick, a rather massive vessel that is nearly double the size of the Oro Jackson, at least.
“Roger. It’s been a while” Newgate greets casually, a smile on his face.
“It’s a lovely day today. Don’t suppose you’d be interested in a little fighting would you?” Roger asks, placing a hand on the sword by his left hip, a cocky smirk on his face. Whitebeard chuckles, the grip around his own weapon, a large bisento, tightening in response to Roger’s challenge.
“I don’t know Roger, I am a pretty busy man, but I suppose I could spare a minute or two to put you back in your place.”
Roger laughs. “Well aren’t you a cocky son of a bitch. I think you’ll find that it’ll take a bit longer than two minutes to take me down.”
“You sure? After all that time on vacation in the blue seas, I’d hate for you to have to eat your words because you haven’t kept up with your training” Whitebeard says, a confident aura beginning to emanate from the gargantuan man.
“Careful Eddy, all that talk will be mighty embarrassing for you when I knock you on your ass” Roger bites back, his own Haki flaring out in response to the other man’s challenge.
The Roger and Whitebeard Pirates all rally behind their captains, excitement and energy beginning to fill them as the anticipation of their fight grows, until finally, after a moment of staring each other down, Roger and Whitebeard finally jump at each other, exchanging the first blows, and their crews follow closely behind.
Several hours pass since the first exchange of blows took place, and now only Roger and Whitebeard are left fighting, their chests heaving, their muscles aching, and their skin slick from sweat, and yet neither man seems even remotely close to calling it quits, as they continue fighting, their movements lacking the same precision they had at the beginning, but containing no less power or spirit behind them. The other members of their crews sit off to the side, away from the action, sitting, talking, and resting their now tired and aching bodies, some of them even having fallen asleep from exhaustion.
Roger and Whitebeard pause their battle for a brief moment, regarding their crews with amused expressions.
“You know… it’s funny…” Roger says, in between large breaths of air. “You were telling me… that me and my crew were gonna be out for the count… in two minutes flat… but it looks like your crew is doing a hell of a lot worse than mine is…”
“Ya well… it's your fault for ditching us for the blue seas… and leaving us without any good training partners for 2 years… we’ve been itching for you to come back… so we’d finally have some worthy opponents… who can actually give us a challenge…” Whitebeard huffs, not lowering his guard for even a moment, as he regards the man standing in front of him.
“What’s wrong Eddy… the Grand Line not cutting it for you anymore… maybe you should drop by navy headquarters… see if Garp or Sengoku will indulge you in a spar… might cost you your head though…”
Whitebeard allows himself to laugh at that. “Thanks for the advice… but I’d rather not go parading into enemy territory looking for a fight… literally…”
“Eh… it was worth a shot…” Roger shrugs, lowering his guard and standing up, using his shirt to wipe at the sweat that drenched his forehead and neck. Whitebeard remains on guard for a moment longer, as though he doesn’t trust the sudden casualness of his rival, but eventually relaxes himself, standing up to his full height.
“Man, that felt good” the raven haired man says, stretching and cracking his neck with a satisfied groan. “What do you say we call it a day and pick this fight up another time? I’m starting to get pretty hungry.”
“Hm. Very well. I suppose it wouldn’t be good if we pushed it too far and you accidentally dropped dead from overexertion” Whitebeard says teasingly, an amused grin on his face.
“You wanna run that by me again old man, I couldn’t hear you over the sound of your heart palpitating. You take your meds this morning?” Roger snips back, raising a middle finger to the taller man, which pulls a hearty laugh from Whitebeard.
“Ya ya, laugh while you can, but from the looks of things, I think our crews might actually be in worse shape than we are” Whitebeard says, pointing over to where many of their fellow crew mates were sitting, or lying on the ground.
Roger laughs. “Ya I think you might be right about that.”
As Roger scans the groups of people littered about on Whitebeard’s ship, he makes a mental note of each of his crew mates, counting them off by name one by one in his head as he makes sure that everyone who was present at the beginning of the fight, is still present now.
‘Xavier, Kelly, Duran, Gaban, Wilson, Seagull, Rayleigh, Nox, Druth, Crocus, Shanks, Buggy… Buggy… Buggy?’ Roger looks around, scanning over the groups of people once again, in search of his youngest son, only to realize that the head of blue hair he’s so used to seeing attached to Shanks’ hip, is nowhere to be found. A feeling of panic and worry sets itself deep within Roger’s chest, slowly but surely growing with each passing second the raven haired man is unable to locate Buggy’s whereabouts.
“Looking for something?” Whitebeard asks, taking notice of the other man’s growing restlessness, as his looked hurriedly around for something, or someone.
“I’m looking for my cabin boy” Roger replied shortly.
“The redhead’s over there isn’t he? What was his name again?”
“No, not that one, the other one” Roger snips.
“You have two?”
“Yes, I have two of them, you dimwitted twat. The redhead is Shanks but I’m looking for Buggy, the little blue haired kid.”
“Buggy? What kind of a name is that?” Whitebeard chuckles, and although its not an insult directed at Roger himself, for some reason the raven haired man takes offense to it.
“Shut up Eddy.” Roger barks, and Whitebeard merely shrugs, grabbing his coat that he ditched halfway through their sparring match, before heading over to his chair and picking up the half-empty keg of booze he had been drinking before Roger’s crew had been spotted. The large man takes a swig, sitting back down in his chair. Roger rolls his eyes.
“Rayleigh” Roger calls over to his first mate, catching the man’s attention. “Have you seen Buggy anywhere?”
“Buggy?” Rayleigh questions aloud, turning to search for the boy in question, before returning his gaze back toward Roger, a suspicious look on his face. “You know, now that you mention it, I haven’t seen him at all. Not since we spotted Whitebeard earlier today at least.”
Roger groans, continuing to search for the boy, only barely keeping his worry, as well as the intense urge to rip the Moby Dick apart until Buggy is found, at bay.
“Shanks” Roger calls, watching as the small red headed boy runs over to him.
“Da- er, Captain, did you see me fighting out there? Everyone was really strong, but I did my best and showed them my grit just like you told me to” Shanks rambles excitedly, looking up at the taller man with wide eyes and a big grin, the excitement and adrenaline from experiencing his first real fight in the Grand Line having not yet worn off.
Roger chuckles slightly at Shanks’ excited prattling, a fond smile spreading across his face when the redhead nearly called him ‘Dad’ rather than ‘Captain’ like he’d been instructed to when they were in the presence of rival or enemy crews. Roger didn’t necessarily mind either of the boys referring to him as ‘Dad’ when they were alone, or even when they were in the presence of the Whitebeards, but objectively he knew it was better in the long run if they avoided such familial terms when in the presence of people they didn’t trust as much, if only to avoid drawing unnecessary attention to either of the boys. Roger might have taken on the role of Shanks and Buggy’s father, and happily so, but that didn’t mean he wanted the entire world to know about that, and potentially use that knowledge against him.
“Where’s Buggy?” Roger asks calmly once the redhead comes to a stop in front of him, trying not to let on how concerned he was about the younger boy’s mysterious absence. Shanks tilts his head to the side in confusion, before a thoughtful expression crosses his face. The redhead turns and scans the crowds of people, much like how Roger and Rayleigh just had.
“We came onto the ship together… we much have gotten separated during the fight somehow…” Shanks trails off, beginning to pick at the rim of, what was once Roger’s, straw hat, a nervous tick the boy has had for as long as Roger has known the boy, and a telltale sign of his own budding worry. Roger gently ruffles the boy’s hair, smiling down at him.
“Don’t worry, we’ll find him” Roger assures, turning toward the crowd of Whitebeard Pirates.
“Hey, you guys” the raven haired man calls out, catching the group of rival pirates’ attentions. The group look over at Roger and Shanks with mildly annoyed, but curious expressions. “Any of you seen a kid around here, small, smaller than this one, blue hair, green eyes, red nose, probably trying to crawl into a vent somewhere?”
The group of men all exchange confused and unsure glances, before one of them, a large man with darkened skin, long curly black hair, an elongated nose, and a few missing teeth, raises his hands. “I saw a little kid skittering below deck a little while ago. He was real small and had blue hair like you said. I figured he came on with you guys and was probably looking for a place to hide away from all the action so I didn’t say anything or try to stop him, but if you want to find him your best bet is to start down there.”
“Below deck, huh?” Roger asks aloud, turning to regard Whitebeard, who had overheard the entire conversation.
“Permission to go below deck and search for my missing cabin boy, Eddy?” Roger asks, only half-teasingly, as he would very much like to find his missing boy. Whitebeard finishes swallowing what remains of the keg in his hands, setting it down on the ground.
“Marco” the blonde man calls, catching the attention of another young boy, a few years older than Shanks and Buggy, maybe 12 or 13 by the looks of him, who comes trotting over to his captain’s side.
“Ya Pops?” The boy, Marco, asks.
Whitebeard points at Roger and Shanks. “Take these two below deck. One of their crewmates wandered down there during our sparring session and they’d like to find him. It’s the little one, uh... Bucky right?”
“It’s Buggy” Shanks corrects, rather rudely. Roger calms him wordlessly with a hand to the top of the head.
Whitebeard chuckles and puts his hands up in mock defense, clearly having not taken offence to Shanks’ outburst. “Right, Buggy, my apologies. Marco take Roger and Shanks down to find Buggy will you? It shouldn’t take too long, and I doubt he went in any of the cabins, either.”
“Sure” Marco says, walking over to Roger and Shanks. “Follow me.”
Roger, for once, does as he’s told and follows behind the blonde haired boy, with Shanks walking closely behind, his little fist gripping the side of Roger’s pant leg as they are led by Marco through the door and down the stairs into the depths of the Moby Dick, hoping and praying that their namaka is safe and sound.