Chapter Text
“You sure about this, Rosinante?” Sengoku only sighs, closing one of the manilla folders on his desk.
Rosinante nods, defeated, and replies in a small voice, “We both know I’m the only one who can do this,” His response goes unacknowledged in the office, suddenly more gloomy than it was approximately 5 minutes before Rosinante walked in.
“At least leave your new number. Can’t leave you all alone out there, can I?” Sengoku holds up a small pad and an old pen, shoving it at Rosinante’s hands, whose knuckles are white from the grip on his slacks, before an attempt at refusal can be made. Thankfully there was no complaint, and soon after only a pad with an unfamiliar number sequence and Sengoku’s stiff outline remained.
The hours-long trek through foreign forests was not something Rosinante envisioned for himself on a Sunday night, yet he knew there was no alternative. After the report of Doflamingo and his new crew (family? hostages? ) had been reported to Sengoku and the other higher-ranking officers, Rosinante had quickly thrown away all hope of burying his past. Fumbling through the pockets of a new outfit he had scraped together at some cheap store, Rosinante almost dropped his newest cigarette pack. With shaking fingers and a foreboding feeling in the back of his mind, a cigarette was hastily shoved into his mouth. His half-used lighter, the only thing he allowed himself to keep from his old home, took a few clicks to finally produce a flame.
Ignoring the resigned voice of Sengoku in the back of his mind, reprimanding both him and Bellemeré for their shared smoking habit (because, at this point, who didn’t smoke?), Rosinante trudged through the rest of the trees with their leaves and needles cracking under his boots. Not long after, he became face to face with a clearing, the beginning of nightfall peeking through the various buildings. Better now than never he thought, snubbing the remainder of his cigarette out on the first signs of pavement.
It wasn’t hard to find the hideout that Doflamingo and his men supposedly resided in, but it did nothing to soothe Rosinante’s nerves. It had been years since he and his brother had even seen each other, let alone held a conversation. Who's to say he wouldn’t just order his men to shoot on sight? He would’ve liked to have a little more trust in his brother, but his knowledge of the past made anything possible.
With a heavy hand, and a heavier heart, Rosinante knocked on the door he suspected was the entrance. It was the biggest door he could find, and he knew Doflamingo was everything but reserved. Moments later, the door all but flew open. Rosinante would have tripped over his own feet if it wasn’t for the grip on his shirt, forcing him inside. An unfamiliar man was staring him up and down, thinly veiled suspicion in his eyes. Before the man could say anything, like question what the hell this random guy who looks oddly similar to his captain is doing in their lair, another person walked in front of the two men. Now, this was a person Rosinante knew, and he couldn’t say he felt relieved. More like on the verge of an anxiety attack if he was being honest with himself. He didn’t even need to speak before Doflamingo was by his side. Almost instantly, the man holding onto Rosinante’s shirt was tossed aside. “Rosinante?” His brother questioned, the smallest voice he had ever heard from the man, hopeful even, resounding through the otherwise silent hall.
Is he not even the smallest bit suspicious? Rosinante wondered in his head. He barely managed to nod before a hesitant hand reached out. A nervous smile crossed his face, not knowing whether Doflamingo was about to hug or hit him. Before he was able to ponder that thought any longer, he was practically shoved into the other man’s arms, an unheard-of form of contact that he knew his brother had barely done before. Once again, he was unable to think about it anymore, for the one-sided hug was almost instantly over. The shock was obviously present, in the form of not only a comically large o -shaped mouth but also in Rosinante’s rigid posture. He knew his brother was dying for answers, but he also knew, despite their years apart, he would never reveal to another his lack of knowledge. So, instead of inquiring about the sudden appearance of his long-lost brother, Doflamingo awkwardly (but not quite, because Doflamingo was never caught off guard) cleared his throat and stepped away from Rosinante. “I can’t believe it’s really you… We all thought you had died!” Doflamingo barked, either deliberately or unconsciously forgetting to explain just who the “we” he mentioned was. Rosinante didn’t bother to reply, only fixing his expression to a slightly less stunned, and more ‘I have no clue what to feel’ look. His brother seemed to not care for his lack of acknowledgment, and instead filled the silence with more of what Rosinante missed during his years of absence.
The overwhelming trust that Doflamingo seemed to have towards him made Rosinante feel much less confident in his job. He constantly had to remind himself that this is not a happy family reunion, but more a mission to leak confidential information about the rising pirate crew to the navy. The den den mushi in his pocket suddenly felt heavier.
“You know, the heart seat recently opened up with the previous person leaving on a private mission. How do you feel about filling that spot, Rosi?” Doflamingo asked, barely turning his head to acknowledge his brother, leading them into a room in the far back. Rosinante only shrugged, feeling that if he spoke now, he would have ruined his entire mission. The lack of response didn’t seem to deter Doflamingo, who simply barked out another laugh. “Cat got your tongue? What’s up with the silence?” Rosinante opted for another shrug.
The past few days at the Donquixote house were surprisingly quiet. Rosinante supposed that Doflamingo had said something to his men, threatening them into leaving the new member alone. He was glad for this, of course, since it gave him a place to think. But with this new situation came many instances of “catching up”.
Rosinante created a backstory for himself during one of these times, still feeling too unnerved to actually speak to his brother. His story of losing his voice to trauma didn’t seem too far-fetched when he wrote it down.
Doflamingo believed him almost immediately, something that came as a surprise to Rosinante. He knew that his brother had hardly ever liked someone, let alone blindly trusted them. But, despite his hesitance, Rosinante knew better than to point this out. Maybe he’s changed , a small part of his head spoke, and Rosinante dismissed it without a second thought.
Being introduced to the entire family, a group of ragtag adults and children alike, as Doflamingo’s brother Corazon was… an experience. At least he didn’t have to share a fact about himself, he grumbled in his head. The people seated around him shared various wary looks, most likely wondering if there was any other underlying reason for him being instantly promoted to one of the most important parts of the family. Rosinante only marveled along with them, avoiding their eyes and missing his mouth as he attempted to finish his entire meal at record speed.
His reputation as the clumsy counterpart to the feared Doflamingo quickly spread. There was not one member who hadn’t heard of or experienced Corazon. He was feared by the newcomers, mostly the children, for his out-of-pocket reactions. He didn’t mean to hurt them, but he knew that was the only way to get them to leave just as soon as they joined. His attempts led him nowhere with the two kids, Baby 5 and Buffalo, who apparently had been around since the start. That did not stop him from trying, though each time he casually slipped and ‘accidentally’ kicked them out the window quickly turned into a game for the two, much to Corazon’s dismay.
Corazon’s almost routine-like life of tripping, smoking, and reading abruptly ended once the kid named Law appeared.