Untitled Buggy & Rayleigh fic!
Part of an unnamed, unfinished Buggy & Rayleigh fic if anyone's interested.
It would have explored Buggy and Rayleigh’s relationship when Buggy first joined (with a little bit of baby Shuggy thrown in). Buggy's the cat that Rayleigh didn't want but ends up loving and caring for anyway. That's his baby boy! It takes some time to get there, though.
I'm not sure I'll ever finish it, so I thought I'd post what I have.
The kid didn’t talk when he joined the Roger Pirates. The only things he brought with him aboard the Oro Jackson besides the shirt on his back were fear, anger, and distrust. If Rayleigh was being honest, he would say the boy was wild, almost feral. If he was being kind, he would liken him more to an abused unsocialised kitten.
None knew exactly where the blue-haired boy came from, nor did they know his name. Only that Roger appeared that morning on deck after a night of hard drinking with an emaciated and bruised, red-nosed kid wriggling to get free under his arm.
As Rayleigh stepped closer to the pair through the sea of gawping crew mates, the boy’s wriggling became more frantic. From this distance, he could see the trail of teeth and nail marks the boy left along Roger’s arm.
“Ah, Rayleigh, is Crocus back from his medicine run?”
“Aye, he’s below in the sick bay.”
“Very good. All right men, back to work! Nothing to see here,” Roger bellowed, startling his men back into action. “Rayleigh, you’re with me,” he added lowly.
“And me! Don’t forget me!” a small voice piped up, as a ball of red hair barrelled across the deck. Shanks, ever curious, was never one to be left out. He always wanted to be in on the action, no matter how small or mundane. If there was something going on, Shanks wanted to be in the middle of it.
“Of course, my boy! I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Captain, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” A few scratches and bites from a waif were nothing to Roger or Rayleigh himself, but Shanks was barely a boy of seven years. Though his short life on the seas had hardened him somewhat, he was still of a size and a mind that had Rayleigh rather protective of the lad. Battles couldn’t be avoided, but things of this nature could.
“Non-sense! A boy of similar age and height might put this little urchin at ease. Seems he’s rather hostile towards men.”
True enough, the boy’s attention was drawn to the only other child on board and the squirming quieted some as curious azure eyes took in Shanks. Shanks himself seemed equal parts fascinated by the strange boy and excited. He rarely had the chance to interact with children his own age on the high seas.
“All right, lead the way, Captain,” Rayleigh sighed in resignation. Shanks whooped in celebration behind him.
As Roger turned and entered into the belly of the ship, the red-nosed boy let out a panicked cry and the thrashing resumed ten-fold. Rayleigh had to wonder how a boy as tiny and malnourished as the one before him could muster such energy. It would have been admirable if the circumstances hadn’t been so sad. Whatever torment the child endured must have been horrendous to cause such distress.
“Relax, lad. You’re among friends here. We aren’t going to hurt you.” Roger’s attempts to reassure the boy fell on deaf ears and the struggle continued all the way to the sick bay.
The sick bay was a mess by the time Crocus finished examining the boy. Eventually, once completed, he had to be sedated to stop him from further aggravating his injuries and rest.
“So, what’s the damage?” Roger enquired, worry etched into his brow. He’d only known the kid less than a day and it was clear he was already attached. Curse his penchant for adopting down on their luck kids.
“To my sick bay or the kid?” Crocus quipped. Roger levelled him with a look. “Physically, he’s got some nasty bruising and lacerations, the worst of which are around his wrists and ankles, as well as his upper torso and face. He has a few fractured ribs and his shoulder was dislocated at some point and whoever reset it did a pretty lousy job of it. I’ll have to dislocate it again and reset it now while he’s out cold. It’s nothing that a little time won’t heal.”
Both he and Roger winced. Poor kid.
“Mentally on the other hand,” Crocus continued, “I’m not sure it’s going to be quite as easy.
"It’s hard to say at this point, but I’d bet my hat the kid, at the very least, has PTSD. You don’t go through whatever he did and come away unscathed.”
Rayleigh glanced over Crocus’ shoulder, back into the room where Shanks sat concerned at the unconscious boy’s side looking a little pale. He did his best to support the kid and Crocus. The presence of a boy his own age made the boy hesitantly comply with the basic requests of an imposing man like Crocus, but it was a herculean task once Crocus pulled out the needle.
Now that things were quiet, Rayleigh decided it was as good a time as any to ask the burning question. “Now what? What do we do with him?”
Though Rayleigh was sure he knew the answer.
“We can’t leave him on the island. It’s not safe. The men who did this to him have the run of the place. He’d be recaptured in no time.”
Rayleigh let out a long-suffering sigh. “We’re taking him with us, aren’t we?”
“For now, at least,” Roger laughed. Rayleigh almost groaned and it must have shown on his face as the Captain added, “Don’t be like that Rayleigh. Double the brats, double the fun!”
Double the trouble more like.
Housing the abused blue boy was going to be much different than before, and Rayleigh wasn’t sure the Captain, known to make decisions on a whim, recognised that. Shanks was easy. They’d had him since infancy and raised him as best they could on the ship. The new kid came with a boat load of baggage and none of them were equipped to unpack it without causing further damage. Should Roger grow attached to the kid – which, who is he kidding, of course he will – assimilating him into their life trapped on a boat far from land with a crew of intimidating men he was clearly terrified of would be a losing game.
If Rayleigh wasn’t the one left picking up the metaphorical pieces, then it was none of his business what Roger decided. But it would be. It always was.
Days passed, and the boy’s physical condition improved. Roger just couldn’t get him to talk. Or to trust him. Any of them really. The young boy – or “Blue” as he’s taken to calling him – still eyed them all wearily, like they would jump him or beat him for even breathing in their direction. He made himself as small as possible whenever anyone was in the room with him and avoided eye-contact like doing so would cause him to combust. But at the same time, he didn’t seem to like being alone either. It was difficult to know what to do without making everything worse.
He seemed to be most comfortable around little Shanks, becoming rather distressed when the cabin boy was out of sight, so he – rather shamefully, he must admit – left the bulk of the supervision to him for the first few days. The sight of Crocus, on the other hand, left the poor lad petrified and shaking like a leaf. Roger didn’t blame the boy given Crocus’ bedside manner and the sheer number of needles and such medical paraphernalia being waved around. But his involvement in the child’s care was crucial, and thus a necessary evil.
Now, with the child on the mend, there was only one thing on Rayleigh’s mind – just what the hell happened the kid.
That night, Rayleigh found the captain sitting in with the still sleeping kid. Rayleigh had to drag Shanks out of there just a few hours ago for a bath before bed. It seemed Roger might be just as bad.
His eyes moved on to the kid. He still hadn’t woken up from Crocus’ dose of sedatives. So used to patents in the form of burly roughed-up pirates, he wonders whether he gave the little fella too much.
Rayleigh cleared his throat to get Roger’s attention.
“No sign of him waking up?”
“Not even a twitch. Whatever medicine Crocus got on that island must have been some good stuff,” Roger chuckled.
Rayleigh gave a polite chuckle in return, and quickly moved on to broaching the topic of their little problem. He had wanted to ask ever since Roger arrived back with the wee lad in tow. And now that things had calmed down, it seemed to be as good a time as any.
“So, are you going to tell us what exactly happened?”
“Not much to tell, really. I was minding my own business on the way back from the tavern when the little urchin crashed into the back of my knee – my bad one at that the little bugger,” Roger explained, rubbing said knee. “He was being chased by a group of thugs through the streets. No idea why. I simply dropped them and took Blue with me.”
“Blue? You’ve named the kid?” Rayleigh sighed, pinching the ridge of his nose in exacerbation. “You know well enough we can’t keep him around. The sea is no place for a child.”
“So? Should we leave Shanks off on some foreign island, too, while we’re at it?”
“That’s different, and you know it. We’ve had him since infancy. He’s been raised to protect himself and how to survive. He’s strong and knows what he’s doing. This kid will cause more harm than good. Or worse, end up dead on our watch.”
“It doesn’t matter. The boy stays. End of.”
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