Work Text:
Whenever it happened, Robin tried not to scream. She didn’t want to wake Nami, after all.
On particularly bad nights, when she could feel the twenty-year-gone heat from the burning books and bodies in her mind, phantom singed against her skin, Robin would get lost in her nightmares - and it was on those nights that she couldn’t keep the involuntary grief from ripping sound from her throat.
Nami understood and, even if she was startled awake, always asked Robin if she was alright, if she needed anything. She never pushed, never prodded for explanations that Robin wasn’t even sure she could provide, and would soon settle back into their shared bed and close her eyes once more. Robin often found herself comforted by the other woman’s presence beside her, found solace in the idea of being understood and seen by another.
However, this time, Robin felt oddly calm as she awoke from flashes of fire and isolation. She didn’t feel afraid or anxious or even sad. For a few moments, she simply lay very still, staring up at the ceiling, hearing the pitter-patter of rain on the roof above. Sometimes, she feared her own reactions to the past, or lack thereof.
Sometimes, the only screams came from inside her own head, and she needed familiar noise to quiet them.
Slowly yet efficiently she crept out of bed, her footfalls silent as she glided across the room, grabbing a deep purple robe off of the hook by the door, covering her sleep clothes and slipping out to the Sunny's deck just as silently.
It was a habit from a past life, to be as silent as possible and go without notice. It served her well then, but now it made her feel akin to a ghost.
On the lawn deck, Robin felt the soft, wet grass beneath her feet, the sea breeze ruffle her hair, the light rain beat against her face - things that would normally be soothing making her feel the loneliness that plagued the dark seas and dark sky around her. The Sunny was her home - her family - but the persistent empty pit inside her chest was a feeling Robin couldn’t help.
The waves crashing harshly against the hull and the rainfall were the only sounds she could hear in the dead of the night, the ship far from any island rife with the sounds of life, human and wildlife alike. Robin felt rather like the restless waves tonight, though decidedly less violent at the moment.
Perhaps Franky should check the ship’s infrastructure before the storm gets worse, Robin thought, leaning to look over the edge of the Sunny. The sea was deep and infinite, with little moonlight peaking through the bleak clouds to illuminate the water below. It gave the impression that it would swallow up anyone who dared sink into it, a black hole upon the world.
What a terrible way to die, Robin mused. Even for non-devil fruit users, it would not be a pleasant fate.
Though it was the middle of the night, Robin doubted Franky was asleep. He was usually awake for a few hours after her, she knew, either building one of his many inventions or coming up with new blueprints for another. She admired his engineering passion, even if sometimes he would burst into too-loud songs at midnight after making a breakthrough that would echo through the ship, waking most. She chuckled quietly at the memories, instinctively covering her mouth as she smiled. Robin didn’t mind his exuberant singing; the songs were charming in their own way and were born of happiness, a comforting thought given all they’d been through.
Robin made her way up past the main mast to the observation room, climbing down the ladder hatch down through the energy room before finally reaching the bottom floor of the Sunny. She could hear the thunder rolling and rattling the world outside as she descended through the ship, ignoring the cling of her now soaked robe and the strands of hair that had fallen loose from her updo, sticking to her face.
Once Robin reached the end of the ladder, she had two options in front of her: right to Usopp’s factory or the more familiar path left to Franky’s weapon development room. A dim light shone through the slightly ajar door to Usopp’s workshop - Robin could hear the sniper humming to himself and cursing when he accidentally jammed his finger or missed a nail, likely too tired to properly pay attention to his mini projects. Robin smiled gently to herself as she turned left instead, knocking in a successive pattern on the door, so Franky would know it was her. Aside from Usopp, the only other of their crew who was likely awake was Zoro, keeping watch from the crow’s nest.
“Door’s open! C’mon in, Robin,” she heard Franky’s voice call from inside. Franky didn’t have much in the way of an indoor voice, and Usopp let him know it, before Robin slipped inside and closed the door behind her.
The room inside wasn’t very big, though Franky had been slowly expanding where he could, and his hulking form made it appear even smaller. To most, the steel walls and floor would seem cold and unwelcoming, but Robin focused on the small glowing fireplace in the back of the room, radiating warm light and dancing across the walls.
For her, it was a comforting space, a feeling she knew Franky shared.
“Whoa! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he said, grabbing a large towel from beside him from where he sat on his absurdly small workbench, getting up and draping it over her shoulders quickly. Franky grinned and patted her shoulders with both hands, practically dwarfing her under them. “I mean my eyes light up with the passion of a thousand suns whenever I see you, but that’s beside the point,” he winked. “Pun intended of course.”
She simply raised an eyebrow at him. “A thousand suns. Very cute, Franky.”
Hands still resting on her shoulders, he laughed and shook her playfully, gently, before letting go and returning to his invention. He had on safety glasses that looked more like sunglasses and a ridiculous looking face shield pushed back, perched atop his head. Recently, Franky had taken to wearing his hair in long waves, tied back in a low ponytail - despite how often he frivolously altered his hair and appearance, Robin thought this style suited him well.
“Here ya go,” Franky said and pulled a stool over toward the fireplace. “Sit on down for a fireside chat with good ol’ Franky.”
Robin gripped the towel around her shoulders, fingers meeting partially scorched, grease stained fabric. Instead of being repulsed, she pulled it tighter around herself and took the seat next to Franky.
It was the thought that counted.
“So what’s on your mind?” he asked as he flipped the face shield back down, starting up his blow torch and moving back towards his invention. It was a robot of some sort, of course, one that had seen better days and likely too many battles - a beat-down work-in-progress made of patched-up metal scraps, welded together to give the illusion of wholeness. She felt a strange kinship with the robot at that moment. “You never come down here this late unless you get something buzzing around in that head of yours.”
“Untrue. I often appreciate the company.”
“Well aren’t you sweet. In that case, guess I’m the thing buzzing around your gorgeous brain tonight, eh?” He laughed loudly, far more amused by himself than anyone had the right to be. Robin smothered her desire to smile.
“Of course, Franky. You’ve found me out,” Robin said, straightfaced, before continuing, “I noticed the storm is growing particularly rough on the ship. Do you think Sunny will be alright?”
“Why, our super ship can brave any storm, on any ocean! Are you doubting her superness, Nico Robin?” Franky peaked at her over his safety glasses, a lighthearted challenge in his eyes.
“I’m not doubting her...superness, or yours for that matter. More so the fact that we’re in unfamiliar waters in the New World in the midst of a severe storm. You know how dangerous this ocean can be.”
Robin turned to the fireplace to her other side, holding her hands out to feel the heat against her skin before rubbing them together. Hopefully, she would dry off soon. For a moment, she stared absently into the fire, ringing her fingers in a false attempt to warm herself.
“Ahh, well, rest assured, you’re worrying for nothing. Only the strongest ship can carry us through these waters - Sunny won’t be damaged so easily.” Franky continued to work as he spoke.
“Hm. Right. Thank you for your assurance.” Robin’s gaze was still lost in the fire. Her response was hollow.
At that, Franky paused and turned towards Robin, slowly removing his face shield and safety glasses. She didn’t move an inch and continued to stare into the fire, her chin perched upon the palm of her hand as she leaned forward. It was like she forgot anyone else was there, couldn’t see anything aside from the flames in her tunnel-vision. Franky had seen that look before, had seen it far more times than he’d like. When they’d reunited after two years apart, Franky had looked at the glowing, vibrant woman who appeared before him on Sabaody and thought to himself: Now this is Nico Robin. This is who she’s meant to be. Not hiding in the shadows, but out here in the sun.
Franky hadn’t seen those shadows since Enies Lobby. He saw them now.
“...So, you gonna tell me what’s actually on your mind?”
Robin startled at his voice, before quickly composing herself.
Instead, she offered: “Do you think if you eat the meat of a Sea King that has consumed humans that’s technically cannibalism?”
“...What?”
“It’s a curious situation. I supposed not, because the human flesh would have been digested and it’s not technically part of the beast’s genetic make-up at all, but it’s still an uncomfortable concept.”
“...Right,” Franky said slowly, keeping his eyes on Robin a moment longer before returning to his work. He slapped his face shield and safety glasses back onto his face, covering the troubled look he was sure was plain on his face, and considered what to do next.
It’s like pulling teeth, getting anything outta her, Franky thought. She builds those damn walls waaay faster than I can tear ‘em down. But he was rather well-versed in Robin’s unspoken language by now. He worked in silence for a few minutes, putting the finishing touches on his welding, before he paused, lifted his mask, and started: “You know, when I was a kid my parents tossed me overboard and never looked back. But no Sea King or ocean could defeat the mighty Franky!”
Robin finally turned away from the fire and looked at him, questioning.
“Hm. That’s why you built your Battle Frankies originally, isn’t it? To hunt Sea Kings?”
“Well that’s true, but not exactly what I was referring to. Ya see Robin, it’s not weapons or machines that can save a person. Not in the way that really matters. Now I’m about to get real sappy, so brace yourself.”
He got a little smile out of her and Franky was invigorated.
“Me, surviving this long? Becoming the shipwright I am today? I have Tom to thank for that.”
“The man who built the Pirate King’s ship. Your mentor…”
“My father. He was the man who built the Pirate King's ship, and he was damn proud of it, but he also built me up. He gave me a home, and a family, and made me see there’s no damn justice in the world, but there are people out there willing to fight for other people - and that’s the heart of it all. My world would’ve been a whole lotta nothing if Tom hadn’t found me that day. Just like it would be now if some super ragtag bunch o’ pirate brats hadn’t shown up at Water 7 two years ago. Listen up, Robin - people save people. They’re the things that really make our own little worlds go ‘round.” Franky leaned forward slightly, more intense and focused than Robin had seen the eccentric cyborg in a long time.
“So tell me about your world, Nico Robin, as much as you‘d like, and I’ll tell you everything you wanna know about mine.”
The passion with which Franky spoke, about Tom and the good people could bring, struck her and frustrated her at the same time, but she hid it expertly. Just as CP9 wore their masks, Nico Robin wore hers, practiced and invisible.
When one has seen both the worst and the best of humanity, Robin thought, it can be difficult to recognize them as two sides of the same coin.
But people could save people, as Franky said. Robin knew that better than most.
“Not everyone is Luffy,” she said, “People also destroy people, more often than not. It’s a vicious cycle. The scholars saved me, and were killed by the world. Saul saved me, and was killed by the world. My mother saved me, and was killed by the world.” Robin paused, her gaze fiercely controlled and hands clenched tightly into fists atop her knees. “Sometimes I worry the cycle will continue. The closer we get to our goal, the more valuable the Poneglyphs become. I refuse to be the reason anyone else dies, Franky.”
She took a deep breath, and turned so she was facing Franky, closer than they were before. The fireplace continued to grow dimmer and dimmer as time passed on, falling with Robin’s hard fought composure.
“It’s been a long time,” Robin continued, “I know I’m not alone anymore. But sometimes...that almost makes it worse. For so many years, I had nothing to lose, but now it’s different. Now I have everything to lose.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke, before Franky broke their silence.
“I’m not gonna sit here and pretend I know exactly what you’re feeling, Robin,” Franky said. He placed his massive hand gently against her back, debating if comforting gestures or words were desired in that moment, but needing to do something for this woman he’d come to care so much for. “And I hope you know that you can tell me anything you want - anything - whenever you need to, whether it’s at the ass crack of dawn, in the middle of a battle, or at the end of the whole damn world...I’ll be there, ears open.”
He took a breath. Robin held hers.
“But I can’t sit here quietly letting you think you had anything to do with what the World Government did to the people who saved you. That’s all on the damn government. And even then, those people saved you for a reason - there’s a choice in saving someone, whether we like it or not. And believe me,” he laughed, loud and sad. “I get being a little mad about it, even after all this time. I get it.”
Franky sighed loudly, his words all dried up. He leaned slightly into Robin, hand still firm yet supportive against her back, suddenly exhausted. “Well, I’m fresh out of inspirational speeches for the night, Robin. Think you can let me off the hook? Our super chef’s gonna be making breakfast before we even get any shut eye.”
Robin smiled affectionately, a secret, smart little thing she saved for those precious few, and shifted closer to him still, taking his hand in both of her own. It was a quiet moment and Robin felt the nightmares in her head cease, heard the screaming fade. They were still there - she doubted they would ever truly leave - but a respite fell upon her and Robin was content.
Tired, but still content - and where sleep usually warned her off on a night like this, it now called to her.
A relief, she thought. She and Franky remained close and Robin found herself reluctant to pull away. We should sleep.
She found herself moving closer instead, subtle yet purposeful.
“Ya know, if the government had its way, we never would’ve met,” Franky mumbled, sleep threatening to knock him over where he sat. He was practically curled over Robin at this point, his words reverberating in Robin’s ear, her head pressed against his chest. It was all at once too much and not enough, too close and too far. A tug-of-war in her heart (and in her head - you don’t deserve this, you’ll never deserve this).
“If the government had its way, we’d both be dead,” she whispered back, drawing herself away and standing, brushing her hand against Franky’s shoulder, then his face, as she moved. Her trusted old friend known as evasion was back at her disposal and Robin smirked, a juxtaposition of teasing and melancholic what-could-be playing in her head (and in her heart - thump, thump, thump). She patted Franky’s face once, twice, and made her way to leave.
Franky pouted playfully and the tension in the room dimmed along with the fire. “Way to kill the mood, Robin,” was his lighthearted response after her. But there was something else there too. An acknowledgement, an acceptance. A question.
This thing of ours, Robin contemplated, is hard to put into words.
“...Door’s always open for you.”
“I know,” she answered, and closed the door behind her.