Beck or another of Shanks crew dropping drunk Shanks off on Magnolia with a “if you’re up, can you watch him in case he pukes?”
next morning or afternoon. Beck or whoever is hungover and drags himself to check on Shanks. And finds him curled up in Magnolia’s lap. She’s petting his hair, made him breakfast and telling Shanks crew to not wake him. Beck is feeling like shit and trying not to be jealous of something childish. And Shanks may not even be hungover.
It's strange, Beck reflects, to see this woman take such care for his Captain.
Especially when he found the red haired kid all on his own at first. For a while. For a long while.
Where was she then?
"You know," he starts conversationally, lighting up his cigarette, "Good mothers don't leave their young brats alone for months at a time."
She doesn't look up, still pulling her fingers through the head of red hair on her lap.
"I know," is her calm answer. Just as conversational in tone.
"You know, huh? Have a defense?" Beck reaches up to rub at his head, to chase the pounding in it away.
"I don't. Only that I am not a good mother. So you are correct. Good mothers do not leave their children alone like I have done."
But she clearly cares.
"Why not stay? What's the problem with staying?" he presses.
As Beck watches, something...drips off her neck? Water, plopping off onto the wooden deck. Not tears, wrong direction for that, back of the neck, not towards the face.
"It's better this way."
In one smooth motion, she moves the sleeping head of Shanks onto the deck and stands up. Shanks grumbles and turns over, but doesn't wake.
The woman, the Rainmaker tilts her head in an awkward bow towards Benn.
"Take care."
And like that, she's gone. Gone over the side of the ship's railing. And Benn still doesn't know how she does that, what the hell is her trick?
"...she gone?"
Benn glances over, taking a quick haul of nicotine in.
Captain's waking up, or was already awake, rubbing at his eyes and tugging at his strawhat.
"Yeah. You want me to call her back?"
Shanks smiles. It's not a real one, unless you call the wobbliness of attempted bravery real.
"No. She always leaves in the end. I'm used to it."
Shanks is used to people leaving, huh. He shouldn't be, but he is. There's one thing that Beck can do in response to that. Only one.
"I'll stay, Captain," he vows. Quietly, over the cigarette smoke he blows out. "Through thick and thin, I'll stay."