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Sabo checks his log pose, waiting for the needles to settle. The small dingy boat he managed to nab from the last island sways over the waves and tides. He leaves the undercover area to adjust the sails, hoping that the ship can hold up until the next island. Then he can make his way back to the revolutionary army. It isn’t going to be a pleasant trip which is frustrating. However, at least he isn’t injured.
He checks the stock on the boat, finding some food and water. That’s another thing to be grateful for. He should try ration it. He doesn’t know how far the next island is.
The wind picks up and the boat sways, knocking him into the wooden wall before he can grab onto something to stabilise himself. He grabs some rope from one of the storage areas and starts making some makeshift holds for the increasingly concerning weather approaching. Rain starts to sprinkle and thunder rolls over the thick clouds above him.
There’s a half melted candle hanging overhead and he lights it with his finger since the sun is hiding behind the thick layer of ominous clouds. He peers out into the dark expanse, the murky water rising and falling with waves.
There seems to be a few structures up ahead, jutting out of the water. Sabo quickly grabs the rope for the sails, leaning with all his body weight against the wind to try avoid the approaching blurry structures. He’s unsure if they are rocks or ships or islands but he doesn’t want to find out.
His little boat rises over a wave and he wraps the rope around his wrist as it starts its descent. The nose dips under and freezing cold water washes over him. The boat submerges and he fights to keep his strength, holding on with all his might to the rope as the boat angles itself back upwards and pops out of the water. The motion knocks him off his feet, landing flat on the hardwood panelling.
Another wave hits the side of the boat as he tries to get to his feet. He loses his footing and smacks into the mast. The wind batters the sails and he fights against it to reduce them. It is getting too dangerous to keep them up. His muscles burn and he needs to lean himself over the edge of the boat to fully reduce the sails.
He seeks cover in the interior of the boat, keeping a tight grip on the makeshift hand holds he made earlier. The waves and wind sway him, the sea water soaking his clothes sapping his strength. Another harsh wave thrusts into the boat, spilling into the interior, soaking into his boots. He trips over his feet, landing on one of the storage boxes that have been sliding around, knocking the wind out of him. His vision goes black as his hands fumble blindly for something to grasp onto. His chest heaves as he gasps for air, his vision slowly returning and he curses himself for not tying the supplies down.
Another wooden box of supplies falls from the shelf, breaking over his head. It’s empty so it doesn’t do much damage but his head still throbs from the impact, splintered debris floating in the small puddle of water by his feet.
Sabo glances outside, his grip firmly on the doorway as the boat continues to be thrashed around in the angry sea. He squints through the downpour.
Sabo’s eyes widen as he realises that the water is lined with sharp rocks that jut out of the water on either side of him. However, in the distance, a glimmer of hope. He checks his log pose and his wishful thinking is solidified. The next island is ahead of him, he just needs to make it through these rocks.
The first rock stands tall out of the water with harsh spikes and sharp eroded edges. He moves out of the doorway, grasping onto the mast to keep his footing. The rain pelts against his coat, his hat threatening to be swept up by the wind. He throws his hat into the internal area of the ship but keeps his goggles around his neck. A wave crashes against it and Sabo barely misses the wave, sailing over it.
The rain pours harder, his clothes sticking to his body. He puts on his goggles, hoping to shield his eyes from the rain and stinging salt water but they obscure his vision. With a huff he takes them off and lets them hang around his neck.
From the mast, he stumbles over to the whipstaff, barely missing the next rock. Another wave crashes over the boat, pulling Sabo from the whipstaff and almost overboard. He smacks into the railing, grabbing it as his wrists pop and crack. His knees feel weak but he manages to push himself to his feet with the help of the railing, leaning heavily against it as the sea water continues to sap his strength.
Adrenaline courses through him, determination fuelling him back to the whipstaff. The next rock hastily approaches and he pushes against the whipstaff to steer away from it. The current fights him, angling him towards the rock. The small boat groans and screeches as it scratches against the sharp stones jutting out, a chunk of the railing torn off.
The island is in view. Water sprays over the hull burning his eyes. He grits his teeth, steering the boat towards the shore. The water becomes shallower. Rocks stick upright from the sea floor, scraping against the bottom of the boat. Visibility lessens and lightning strikes on the island, more obstacles illuminating before his eyes. He pushes harder against the whipstaff, his entire body weight steering him away from the rock right before him. It snaps and he falls over.
Another wave reaches over the railing and tries to pull him overboard, the ship tilting almost 90 degrees. He reaches out desperately to grasp onto something but his gloved fingers only slip against the wooden floor. His body is slammed into the railing. He hugs it tightly.
Now he is left to the mercy of the waves and currents. The boat tilts the other way and he dangles. Opposite him is a gap in the railing, torn apart by the rocks. If he lets go, he’ll drown. His muscles burn and ache and his chest tightens from the strain.
Thunder cracks and lightning strikes. The loud boom combining with the crashing of waves and the wind roaring in his ears. The ship lets out a deep groan as it crashes against some rocks. Sabo is thrown across his small ship and whacks into the mast headfirst. His body goes limp.
…
Sabo’s ears are ringing and his mind feels hazy. He’s coughing and wheezing, his body tingling. He opens his eyes slowly, light burning fractals of colours that shouldn’t be there into his retinas. He inhales sharply and shuts his eyes. The tingling grows stronger, feeling more like stabbing pains from tiny needles.
There’s a metallic taste in his mouth and he feels like he’s still in the storm but the sand embedded in his scalp and caked into his clothes seems to imply otherwise. He tries to move and roll over onto his side but pain ignites in his torso, his vision going white and a pained sound rips from his throat behind gritted teeth. His voice is barely there. The involuntary sound scraping and scratching against his vocal cords.
Each breath sounds more like a wheeze and stings his lungs. It feels like he’s breathing through a thin straw. His vision is still blurry and spotted with black dots. He isn’t sure what happened. He doesn’t know where he is. All he knows is that he can’t move.
Tentatively, he tries to wiggle his fingers. He can feel his tendons in his arm as he does and they don’t feel right. He coughs, more of that metallic taste spreading across his tongue. He manages to turn his head slowly and takes a deep breath, pain igniting in his chest. It feels like there’s a concrete slab resting on his chest and he can’t get enough air. He coughs again, blood trickling from his mouth down his lips and chin. He swallows the rest of it collecting in his mouth, nausea washing over him.
He takes another shaky breath, making sure not to breathe too deeply this time. He tries to wiggle his toes. He grits his teeth, pain flaring up in his right leg. There’s a heavy weight on top of his leg too, crushing his shin.
Tears prick at his eyes, his vision blurring further. Is this the end? Is this where he dies? Panic starts to flood him.
He still needs to deliver all the intel that he collected to Dragon. He still needs to make sure Koala got back safely. He still needs to help the Revolutionary Army get Kuma back. He can’t die. He can’t do that to them. He can’t do that to… Luffy. Not again.
His head throbs harder. It feels like his skull is splitting open. The more his thoughts spiral and swirl the worse the pain is. His chest grows tighter and the dread and panic sets in further. He cranes his neck up to take a hesitant glance at his body. He’s splayed out, flat on his back on the shore. The rain is still lightly pattering down, seeping into his blood soaked clothes.
He cautiously opens his eyes, the light shooting pains through his aching head, his vision swimming. However, he manages to make out the sight of a splintering piece of ship debris sticking out from his torso. He catches a brief glance of a metal chunk where his right leg is supposed to be. His head falls back against the sand and his breathing becomes shorter and more ragged.
“CAPTAIN!”
Sabo’s eyes snap back open and he grits his teeth, fighting against the awful pain in his head as the sun glares into his eyes. He tries to locate the sound, holding his breath. His heart thuds in his ears. He squints, his eyes darting around, but all he can see are rocks in his peripheral vision and the expanse of the cloudy sky.
More voices join the first and start to grow closer and his breathing grows faster, hearing footsteps muffled against the sand.
“Oh shit.” A disgruntled flat voice groans.
Sabo keeps his eyes closed and a shadow looms over him. He cautiously cracks one of his eyes open, a blurry figure bending over him.
“Cany you hear me?”
“Barely.”
He can’t make out the details on the man’s face. More bodies lean over his to take a look. They all seem to be wearing some sort of uniform. His eyes manage to focus just enough to make out a logo… a jollyroger?
Panic shoots through him once more and he tries to squirm, searing white hot pain washing over him, stabbing through his leg and torso. He curses through gritted teeth, his vision fading. His body trembles shooting more pain through him. His vision taking too long to return.
“Don’t move, Revolutionary-ya.”
Revolutionary-ya? Who the hell still talks like that in the great pirate era? It rings a muted bell in the back of Sabo’s aching mind but he can’t figure out why in his concussed state. Sweat beads on his forehead and he can feel his consciousness slipping. His vision continues to tunnel and his breathing grows more ragged. Each breath demanding more effort to take. He faintly picks up on the man announcing something. The word room echoes in his mind as his eyes flutter closed once more.
___
Trafalgar Law grimaces at the sight before him, his crew members circling the body pinned to the sand. This is insanely inconvenient but he unfortunately cannot walk away. Not just because he owes Luffy a favour but because he wouldn’t exactly be fulfilling his duty as a doctor if he did.
He holds out his hand – “Room” – and scans Sabo’s body using his devil fruit ability, trying to see where the major areas of concern are. This is going to be extremely inconvenient.
“Shachi, go back to the ship and grab a belt.”
“Yes, captain.”
“Penguin, get the case from under the table in the operating room and Bepo, find something to transport Revolutionary-ya back to the Polar Tang.”
He watches the others sprint back to the ship and crouches beside Sabo’s unconscious form. He groans and stands back up, carefully moving pieces of ship debris away from the body and clearing a path for when the others come back.
Penguin hands him the case and he takes out a few things. First, he sedates Sabo, not wanting to hear him scream or have him make any sudden movements or risk him waking up while they move him. It isn’t the wisest decision but he can’t risk him doing any more damage to himself or more importantly the Heart Pirates. He also numbs Sabo’s leg to the best of his ability before using the belt he gets from Shachi to make a makeshift tourniquet.
He takes a few steps back.
“Takt.” Law moves his hand in an upwards motion and the metal chunk crushing Sabo’s shin moves upwards, suspending itself in the air, blood and viscera clinging to it. Law then continues to utilise his devil fruit abilities to move the rubble and debris a safe distance away, leaving the splintering wood in Sabo’s abdomen. His crew helps him move the limp body onto a stretcher and take him into the Polar Tang.
In the operating room on the Polar Tang, Law puts on a mask and some gloves, watching the rest of his crew scramble around to put their own PPE on. He can’t help but smirk under his mask. It’s been a while since he had done something challenging, something interesting.
An IV is attached and a canular is placed in Sabo’s arm, medications and sedatives delivered to his system. An oxygen mask is placed over his mouth. Penguin helps sterilise the wound on Sabo’s forehead, Shachi patching it up securely. Bepo watches on by the door, Law not wanting his fur to contaminate the surgical room.
He cuts off Sabo’s coat and shirt, making sure not to disturb the debris impaling him. Then he studies the wound. He assumes the wooden piece has splintered itself within Sabo’s body, hopefully not perforating any of his organs. Taking it out would cause a lot of internal bleeding and he still needs to be mindful of those pesky organs nearby.
An idea hits him and he uses his devil fruit to cautiously remove the organs surrounding the debris, keeping them on a clean tray beside the operating table. He secures the debris and then removes it, packing the area around it and quickly using his devil fruit to try minimalize the internal bleeding. Then, meticulously, he uses his devil fruit to take out all the small splinters that snapped off into Sabo’s muscles and tissue.
Sabo’s leg is another problem, his bone is broken and almost shattered in a few places. The muscles and nerves practically mushed. It would be easier to amputate. However, Law doesn’t want to take the easy route. Not today. A strange glint shines in his eyes as he thinks up some ridiculous plan to meticulously try put Sabo’s mangled leg together. It’s a long shot but if he uses his devil fruit abilities right, he might just manage to perform some kind of medical miracle.
By the end of it, Law is left exhausted and drained, but he still needs to put Sabo’s organs back in. With blood soaked gloves he puts the organs back into their places and releases the room after stitching him back together. He trusts Shachi and Penguin to dress the wounds while he helps clean up.
As he helps with the bloody utensils, his head starts throbbing. The adrenaline from performing the operation starts to wear off and the weight of exhaustion hangs heavy over him. His muscles feel like they’re deteriorating and at the very least he knows that he’ll get a good sleep.
“We’ve got this covered, Cap’.” Ikkaku says and he nods, leaving towards his quarters.
He takes off his bloody scrubs, tossing them in a container and gets into whatever he grabs first from his cupboard before collapsing into bed.
…
Sabo blinks his eyes open groggily, his body aching and tingling. He tries to shake the haze residing over his mind but can’t quite do it. The room he finds himself in is warm and dim which is much easier on his eyes than the blaring sun. At first, he assumes he’s back at the base of the Revolutionary Army but the ceiling seems different, filled with pipes and metal. There are no windows and the room creaks and lets out low eery groans.
His eyes lazily drift over to his arm, seeing tubes connected to him. His first instinct is to reach over, his partially numb fingertips wrapping around the cords. Before he can yank them out a hand stops him. His eyes remain on the tattooed hand, his vision refusing to focus on the letters.
“I would advise against that.” A monotone voice informs him.
It takes a few moments but Sabo manages to look over at the face that the voice belongs to. It blurs and morphs before him, the features remaining undefined. He squints but it doesn’t help much.
“You’re on some heavy medication,” the voice continues, “you’re probably confused. Just try get some more rest.”
“Where am I?” Sabo’s voice comes out raspy and his throat feels dry. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth and his words run into each other.
“You were in a shipwreck and now you’re on my submarine the Polar Tang.”
Sabo feels a sense of panic start to rise within him, the odd machine beside his bed starting to beep faster. His breaths start to catch in his throat as he realises he’s on a pirate ship. They’re probably going to torture him for information or keep him as a slave or kill him or worse.
“Unfortunately, I owe Luffy a favour so I can’t let you die.”
Sabo actually processes those words, his breathing settling into a more regular rhythm. Of course Luffy is indirectly saving his ass somehow. It’s getting ridiculous at this point. A weight is lifted from his shoulders that slowly lower, his muscles slowly relaxing.
“It’s not going to be easy, but we’ll try to keep you alive. No promises, though.”