#((I've never written sakazuki but it was kind of fun!))

[chillin-at-partys-bar]

pertaining to this thread with @ravarui

He was still numb. His hand still coated in the blood from his act of complete betrayal of the highest order. His bicep had stopped bleeding on its own accord, useful as he had no intention of attending to the wound himself. If he died, he couldn’t be used like this anymore. But then again, it was because he lived that the other had yet to follow through on his threat.

The man’s back was to him. An arrogant show of faith considering what had just transpired. But the man had no faith in a pirate. No faith in Benn. Not in a million lifetimes.

What Fleet Admiral Sakazuki had faith in was that Benn’s blind, misplaced devotion to his captain outweighed any desire to help himself. Pirates weren’t complicated.

“So. You did as requested?”

“Aye.”

The disrespect from the pirate was astounding.

“Yes. Sir.” The correction seethed through Sakazuki’s gritted teeth, the man unsure if he was more infuriated that he had to give a lesson in manners to a pirate or that the pirate was still breathing. Wasting precious air on such rot and filth.

Benn was silent.

“Yes. Sir.”

“I heard you.”

Sakazuki finally turned slowly, putting every bit of disgust and disdain in his glare as he could. This man had been a part of the crew that had poisoned the mind of Monkey D. Garp’s grandchild. He actively encouraged children to become pirates. Tainted the minds of the innocent and continued his day as though it didn’t make them the scum of humanity.

No. Not humanity. Pirates never had that.

“Listen here, pirate.” The last word was spat like a swear. “I give the command and the Red Hair Pirates are wiped from the face of the Earth like they deserve. And you’re here acting like a smartass?” His hands came down hard on his desk. Benn Beckman didn’t so much as flinch. And it made Sakazuki angrier. The man held no fear of him when he absolutely should. “Do. Not. TEST. Me.”

He wanted nothing more than to wipe the blank expression off of his face. “Is that clear enough for you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Despite the stoic expression, despite the lack of emotion, the yeilding words were proof at least to Sakazuki that the pirate did hold some reverence towards what could happen. Would happen should he so much as twitch wrong.

“Good.” Even that little word of praise towards a pirate got at his very core. He couldn’t believe he had made a deal with a pirate. But with the command Shanks had, with his connections, with the damn respect he held from Sakazuki’s own colleagues, taking that crew out suddenly wasn’t an option. Weakening them though. Destabilizing them. Crumbling them from the inside. That was an option.

And through that he would also get this man. A disposable, powerful tool who would obey or suffer consequences unimaginable. Could be useful given the upcoming times.

“No harm will befall them as long as you listen to us. You’re mine now, understand?”

There was silence. Sakazuki felt his hand beginning to melt into magma. He’d about had it with-

“Yes, sir.”

He didn’t bother solidifying his arm entirely. He wanted the room to heat up. To get uncomfortably hot. He wanted to see the sweat beading on the pirate’s hairline, dripping down his cheek and off his chin. He wanted to remind the other in no uncertain terms who he was addressing. A man who fought to get where he was and who would exterminate any and all threats to justice in his world.

“Until your next task, we have a cozy spot for you.”

With the slightest glance he signaled for the two Marines who had been flanking the doorway to come forward. They grabbed Benn’s arms, forcing them behind his back. The wound reopened. Chains were used as though Benn’s actions weren’t restrained enough by the threat to annihilate the Red Hair Pirates.

“Sit tight, Benn Beckman. Remember our deal.”

The next thing he knew, after forced movements, gasped whispers, and awed gazes at the former first mate in chains, he was sitting in a cell. They’d stitched up his wound, offering nothing to dull the pain. But that was fine. He wanted to feel it.

His cell was on the sixth layer of Impel Down. Secluded, silent. Dark, damp. His arms were chained above him, his back against the cold wall. Clamps around his ankles kept them from moving much. He hadn’t been given enough slack to stand or shift position. All he could do was sit and wait.

“Akainu said if he somehow survives till next month, he’ll execute this one himself.” It was a whispered rumor from a guard that Benn pretended to ignore.

The whole time he could only think: I really need a smoke right now.

It was only when he was completely alone, nothing but the hard stone and unforgiving chains to keep him company, that his emotions finally caught up with him. He’d had everything he could ever want or need: a family, friends, people who loved him and who he loved back. A purpose: his captain’s frivolous and exciting whims. Freedom to say or act how he pleased. To drink and get shitfaced or quietly read and exist in his own world until Shanks, the noble, deeply empathetic man he’d vowed everything to, pulled him along to their next adventure.

The things he’d said to them. The blade and bullets he’d used. All he could do was pray an empty prayer to whoever still was taking calls from him that Yasopp had survived. That Shanks had survived. That all the damage as he had planned, that he had caused, had been strictly superficial. That it had been enough for them to know he was serious, not enough for the consequences towards them to be so.

And so with nothing else to be done, he wept.