123 ShanksBenn "I may have... ripped my pants."
The bright sun illuminated the bloodshed on deck of the Red Force. Shanks hated those kind of fights, when he had to kill to protect his men. This had been such a fight and he was glad it was over. He was also glad that the blood he saw wasn’t of his crew members. At least not mostly. He was pretty sure none of his men had died. His Haki confirmed it.
Taking a deep breath through his nose he let himself fall on his knees. He was exhausted beyond repair, his limbs ached and he needed a shower. Also, he had the slight feeling the wound on his stump had reopened. Doc would kill him. Definitely.
While he focused on evening his breathing, he took in the damage that was done. Several corpses lay around, a whole pirate crew that hadn’t backed down, thinking Redhair Shanks was an easy goal, after his injury. It had spread, the rumors about his arm. They needed to be careful. He needed to make this public, them defeating this crew, so people knew to not fuck with him, one arm less or not.
A single tear rolled down his cheek. He hated killing people. But he rather saw someone else die than one of his men. His family.
“Are you alright?” a familiar voice asked behind him and Shanks sighed. Then he tilted his head to look into Benn’s face. Worry was etched in his features. It showed in every single line, in his eyes, in the way his lips were but a thin line.
“I guess,” he answered and to lighten the mood, even though he didn’t feel like it. “I may have… ripped my pants.” The lopsided grin Shanks showed Benn made the man snort.
“Well, with those blood-stains you won’t be able to wear them anytime soon, anyway.” A hand was stretched out for him and Shanks took it. With a little pull Benn helped him stand up. Yet, before he was let go, as Shanks had though, Benn had reached for his shirt. A swift pull and it was ripped open. Not that it mattered anyway. During the fight it had been torn and it showed more red than white.
“That had been my favourite,” Shanks muttered and hissed, when Benn pulled the fabric over his stump. It was bleeding through the bandages. Shit.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” Benn replied, then looked into Shanks’ eyes. “After you’ve seen Doc.” The worry had increased tenfold. Something else Shanks hated. He never wanted to see this look in Benn’s eyes. It didn’t set well with him.
“I’d protest, if i thought it helped. But it won’t, will it?” Even though he had wanted to sound cheery, Shanks didn’t manage. His eyes wandered over his first mate’s frame and it was enough to kill all his good-will to make this situation any less dreadful. If he looked bad, Benn looked worse. His body was covered with slashes, blood was everywhere and a small trickle of it ran down his temple. To see Benn like this erased a little of his guilt for killing all those man. They had it coming, thinking they could hurt his partner and getting away with it.
“No.” There was a short moment of silence between them, before Benn added, more to himself. “I shouldn’t have agreed to sail to the Grandline already.” His gaze darted to the bleeding stump, then his head fell down. But that was a guilt Shanks would not accept neither let it grow. With his free hand, with his only hand, he lifted Benn’s head, so the other had to look into his eyes.
“That was my call to make, Benn. I will be fine!” He smiled, to soften the edge in his voice. “We will be fine. I promise.” Then, with a teasing smirk, he added, as an afterthought. “Also, when did you agree to it, anyway?”
“Never. That’s the problem,” was answered, but despite Benn’s annoyed tone, he couldn’t hide the amusement in his face. The way his eyes twinkled lit up Shanks’ heart and all he could do was lean forward and press his lips onto Benn’s. He tasted blood, sweat and dirt, and couldn’t care less.
Shanks would have loved for this moment to go on forever. To forget the fight, the pain, the worry and the chaos surrounding him. It wasn’t granted, though, ‘cause he heard a voice - a very bewildered voice - shout. “Is this is your stump bleeding, capt’n? Fuck’s sake. Benn, too? What the? - Get the fuck into the medical quarters instead of standing in the middle of the deck to make out. Now! Fucking superiors, not giving a damn. Move or I kill you myself, dammit.”
Shanks had known, Doc wouldn’t like his state.
