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Crocodile leaned on the railing, puffing on his cigar and looking out at the Donquixote pirates' stolen vessel anchored just beside his own in the bobbing wreckage of the destroyed marine warship. He was convinced that he could hear the cheering and the cooing and the backpatting that must have been happening from all the way across.
He sucked in another breath of smoke and held it.
They had gotten lucky. Damned lucky. And it was thanks to the World Government's shortsightedness and arrogance. Admiral Fujitora, though he'd been coordinating the prisoner transport, had not been on board the warship. He'd been sent elsewhere, and was only transpondering in to give orders. The marines had left the actual transport of Doflamingo to a perfectly ordinary warship.
After all, Crocodile was sure their logic went, Doflamingo was beaten. Clapped in seastone irons. Humiliated. Barely conscious. Separated from his crew, who were likewise beaten. How could he possibly escape their custody? There was no need for an Admiral to keep watch on a mere prisoner.
It's not like pirates had allies outside of their own crews.
Crocodile laughed and a haze of smoke escaped his mouth. They were right, weren't they? For so long, they had been right. No pirate would stick his neck out for another crew. Who would help a rival?
For the past two years Crocodile had been doing a lot of thinking about that. Ever since the end of Alabasta, ever since Impel Down, ever since Marineford– "every pirate for himself" was looking less and less like a winning strategy and more and more like "divide and conquer."
Crocodile was sick as hell of being conquered, and frankly he was just as sick of being divided.
Too damned long. It had been too damned long.
But he was going to fix it. He was already making strides.
Crocodile had been right about the party atmosphere when he returned to his family like the fallen champion he was, but Doffy still wished that the grumpy bastard had come over to enjoy it with him. After all, it was Crocodile who had saved the day. He deserved at least half as much back patting as Doffy did given the circumstances.
But Crocodile was in fact, a grumpy bastard, and he'd sent Doflamingo over to the ship the family were on to settle things and enjoy his hero's welcome on his own. That was fine. He had enjoyed it very much. Basked in it, even. Glowed in the praise and adoration which soothed the sting of his fresh, raw defeat, the loss of his kingdom, and the reminders of everything he had lost along the way.
It wasn't the end. It was a setback, but it wasn't the end. They would strike back, and they'd strike back hard. They would rise from the ashes and be worse than ever.
He was pretty sure that Crocodile had some kind of plan, and that was exciting. Unlike Doffy's family, Croc had always been a closed book to him, scheming and planning things out of his sight and out of his reach. But if there was any time that Crocodile might let him in on those schemes it was now.
"Hey, hey, I have to admit, none of us expected Crocodile to help rescue you, Doffy." Trebol echoed his own thoughts as he passed him a glass of wine. He and the rest of the family were all crowded around the deck, drinking and catching up. "It was as much of a surprise as Violet coming back."
"What can I say?" Doffy smiled. "I guess I just leave an impression on people."
Diamante slapped his shoulder companionably. "Everybody's got a soft spot for you, Doffy."
The reminder brightened Doffy's smile. It was true, wasn't it? He'd worried for a while that Crocodile had only considered him a dalliance, a partner of convenience. A fling that could be forgotten.
But even grumpy ol' Croc had a soft spot for him.
"Admit it, Croc, you've got a soft spot for me," Doffy purred. Crocodile rolled his eyes at him, grabbing the liquor bottle off the table as he stomped toward the bed where he'd parked himself.
Doflamingo spent hours with his family, just like Crocodile had expected, and had only just come back over to the ship to finish their conversation. Croc had given the order to set sail (Doffy's ship following theirs) and he'd hauled him below deck into his captain's quarters for a long overdue chat.
And now here Doffy was, laying his languid bulk across Crocodile's bed, chin in hands like a teenage girl.
Crocodile sat down next to him and uncorked the bottle with his hook. "A soft spot huh. What makes you think something like that?
It was true of course. Crocodile did have a spot for the big, melodramatic, self-centered brat of a pirate. Doffy's occasional company had been one of the little bright spots in the long 14 years of his depression as a Warlord or the Sea. But damned if he was going to admit it just like that.
"You rescued me," Doffy said, flopping so that his chin was on Crocodile's thigh. "I mean, it's not like you had anything to gain from it."
Crocodile snorted and took a long drink from the whiskey bottle. "That ain't exactly true, Doffy. Keeping you out of the government's hands benefits me in plenty of ways."
He looked up at him from where he lay, grabbing with his long arm for the bottle. "Oh yeah? How?"
"Well for one thing, I was hoping we could put together an alliance."
As Crocodile had expected, that got his attention. He sat up like a startled cat and thumped his head against Croc's chest.
"You do?" He sounded like a kid at Christmas. It was embarrassing. It was a little pathetic, and a little adorable, and it made Crocodile feel a little badly.
"Yeah, Doffy, I do. Like I said when I was unchaining you earlier, at Marineford you were in my way. There was no point in working together while either one of us was still under the government's thumb. Like Mihawk always said, if they knew we give a shit about one another, they'd use it against us."
"Classic Mihawk." Doffy finally got a hold of the bottle and took a long drink.
It was the reason that Crocodile and Mihawk had barely spoken outside of official matters in the last dozen or more years. He felt a familiar sting of regret, but he shook his head. "Don't put all the blame on Hawk, it was me who floated the idea of taking the government's offer in the first place."
"In your defense, Croccy, it seemed like a good idea at the time." Doffy wrapped his arm around his shoulders and passed him back the bottle. Crocodile took a grateful swig.
It had seemed like the only option at the time. Crocodile had been beaten. He'd lost his hand. His crew had been decimated. The dream of becoming the king of the pirates was dead.
"Yeah, well it seems like a rotten fucking idea in hindsight, Doffy. Seems like a real fucking waste." So many years barely living. So many years spent plotting like a spider in a web, keeping everyone in his life at arms' length. For what? For nothing. Because he couldn't let himself trust anyone. Because he couldn't bear the thought of losing again, of losing what he had left.
Well fuck it. He was done being afraid. The way he had been living had turned out to be a living death, and in the end the only ones it had benefited was the World Government.
Doffy seemed to read his thoughts. "So what are we gonna do to make sure the next move isn't a waste, Croc? You wouldn't ask for an alliance without an idea."
He put his arm over Doflamingo's shoulder in return, pulling him close with the flat of his hook. "Oh I've got some ideas, Doffy. First thing is we're gonna regroup. Then we're gonna call in Mihawk."
"I already like where this is going." He nuzzled his face up against Crocodile's, and Crocodile laughed.
"Of course you do, you fucking love a crowd, you attention whore." He couldn't keep the grin off his own face, either though.
"So what about after that?" Doffy asked.
"Then, Doffy, we're going to show the World Government just what happens when pirates all hang together, instead of letting themselves be hanged separately."
Doflamingo's grin hitched cheshire cat wide. "Oooh, Crocodile, you know just what to say. Look out Mary Geoise, your worst nightmare's on its way."
Doffy's excitement was infectious. He was right, it was thrilling. After so long spinning their wheels, working as government dogs, plotting, losing everything— they were finally going to actually do something. Together.
Crocodile pulled the bottle away from Doffy's lips as he took another sip from it, and forced his tongue in his mouth instead. He made a warm noise, melting into the rough kiss. The shared mouthful of whiskey was a toast to a new era of their lives.
Crocodile couldn't say what the future would bring, whether glory or absolute ruin. But whatever it was, they'd see it together.