Chapter Text
"Uh, captain...?," Penguin cleared his throat to get Law's attention.
"What is it?," the captain asked, without looking up from his book.
Suddenly, Penguin got more nervous. Was he really going to ask this?
"When we met the Kid pirates last week, there was this one crew member. With long blond hair and a mask. Who is that?"
Finally, Law turned to look at Penguin. His tired grey eyes seemingly shot through his head.
"That's Killer. Why are you asking?," Law replied, an obvious hint of scepticism in his voice.
"Killer...," Penguin absentmindedly mumbled the name.
"Penguin, why are you asking?," the captain repeated himself, sounding a little more serious. If that was even possible. Law was always so unimaginably serious.
"Nothing, I just thought he looks pretty strong," Penguin responded, before leaving the office.
He could hear Law sigh, but didn't look back. His question had been stupid and unnecessary. But for whatever reason, Killer hasn't left Penguins mind since their first interaction. That little nod. It had been a soft upwards nod. Almost as if he was interested. But that would be stupid. The more Penguin tried to make sense of his own thoughts, the more he could feel himself losing brain cells.
"What 'ya doing?" The all too familiar voice of Shachi intrigued, giving Penguin's shoulder a rather rough nudge.
Just when Penguin thought he could get a minute or two of peace... Shachi had to find him. In the middle of the night. Outside in the cold. "That..." Penguin began, "is none of your business, ginger," he finished, shoving Shachi back.
The man stumbled back from the force, readjusting his shades once he caught himself. "Wow, someone's in a mood," Shachi commented sarcastically, rolling his eyes behind the shades. For the first time, Penguin wondered why his best friend was wearing shades in the middle of the night anyway.
For a while, there was silence as Shachi looked his friend up and down. It almost seemed like he was scrutinising the man, every little detail, every thread on the beige overall that may have been out of place.
"So tell me, Pen Pen, what are you doing out here? All on your own?"
Penguin rolled his eyes up to the sky, as if to ask whoever may be up there for patience. The nickname was so ridiculous and stupid, it was actually funny and he couldn't suppress a slight snicker.
"Well, big nose, I needed some peace from your ginger butt annoying me every free minute of the day," he retorted in a matter of fact voice, turning to look at his friend with a certain expression to show he was just teasing.
"Uh huh... sure," Shachi gave back dryly.
There was another minute of uncomfortable silence.
"So who's the unlucky person?"
Penguin's eyes widened ever so slightly, taken aback from his friend's bold question.
"You son of a — I am not in love!" He called out in defence of himself, backing off a little from the red haired man.
Shachi gave a mocking nod of faked understanding and sympathy. "Uh huh. Sure. You're just standing in the cold night for shits and giggles, right, lover boy?"
Penguin wanted to speak up, raising his hand for a gesture. But his mouth was just left agape, realising he couldn't hide anything from Shachi at all. Neither was he gonna tell him though...
"I was just thinking," Penguin stated pridefully, looking down on the ground of the balcony.
"About?" Shachi inquired, leaning closer to his friend.
"Uh... someone."
"Oh, oh, let me guess!" Shachi suddenly jumped in excitement, causing Penguin to groan. But he agreed either way.
The ginger man put his hands on his hips, giving the other man a proud grin.
"It's someone from the Victoria Punk," Shachi stated, a victorious undertone evident in his otherwise mocking voice.
Penguin's jaw dropped.
Slowly, he blinked, trying to regain his composure. It was unbelievable that Shachi — of all people! — would be able to guess that.
"Well... yes...?" Penguin replied, his voice going soft.
Shachi nodded, that stupid grin not leaving his stupid face. Then he pushed his shades up the bridge of his nose, like a damn nerd.
"It's the Massacre Soldier!" The nerdy-orca-man exclaimed, way too loud for Penguin's liking. Every soul on this island must've heard it....
So Penguin just stared at Shachi. This must've be some sort of witchcraft.
"How...?" He muttered under his breath.
Shachi gave a little snort of amusement.
"I listened in on your little questions to the captain and connected the dots. Little Pen Pen has a crush~"
"What?!" Penguin felt his face heat up.
Again, he shoved Shachi away, trying to make himself some room to breathe. But the red haired man just snickered.
"I was just asking who he was," Penguin responded between clenched teeth, turning his face away and crossing his arms like a pouty child.
"Because you ARE in love," Shachi replied teasingly, jumping around his friend like a bunny.
Penguin immediately tackled Shachi down to the wooden floor of the balcony, throwing all sorts of insults at him as he covered the man's mouth with his own hands.
"I am NOT in love, ginger. I was simply asking the captain a question," Penguin scoffed out, straddling Shachi's waist.
Slowly, he pulled his hand away from his friends mouth, allowing him to speak and breathe freely.
"Did you know that actual penguins have mates for life? You'll never be able to leave the Massacre Soldier~" Shachi quickly started teasing again.
The red haired man's mouth was covered again.
"You're so stupid, it hurts. And stop calling him Massacre Soldier. Like he's some criminal..." Penguin muttered, seemingly starting to defend Killer.
Shachi wanted to say something, but his mouth was still covered with the elegant hand of his friend. Carefully, Penguin moved it away, ready to bring it back up at any time.
"Penguin, we are all pirates. He's a criminal, I'm a criminal and you, lover boy, are a criminal too."
"Stop calling me 'lover boy'," Penguin snapped, moving off of Shachi with a grumble. The redhead didn't even attempt to stop laughing.
With wide eyes, Penguin watched some of the Kid pirates approached the current shelter of the Heart pirates. There he was. That strong, tan body... the messy blonde hair. And that damn mask. Penguin couldn't help it, he kept glancing at Killer while both of their captains talked. Or argued, whatever you want to call it. From the few words that were audible to Penguin, he found out, that some of the Kid pirates seemed to need serious medical help. Law protested, he wasn't a charity nurse. But Eustass Kid did not care.
Penguin pulled his hat a little further down his face, wanting to stay hidden as his lips curled into a small frown.
"There's your lover~"
Barely being able to suppress a yelp, Penguin backed off from Shachi, who just whispered such a bold thing to him.
"Shut up!" He whisper-yelled in reply.
But he couldn't deny it, his own dark eyes kept darting to Killer, internally pleading he hadn't heard it. Though some part of him wished Killer would've heard him. He was desperate for the blond man's attention. Another small nod would be nice ... maybe even a tiny wave. But that would probably send Penguin into a coma and give Shachi more things to tease him for.
With shaky hands, Penguin stitched a deep wound Heat's arm back together. No matter what he tried— deep breaths, thinking of something peaceful— the anticipation grew, as he knew he'd be alone in a room with Killer next.
Law was taking care of the more serious injuries, Penguin and Shachi just had to help with smaller things. For a moment, Penguin dared to stop and look at the long, blue hair of the man in front of him. Heat didn't even flinch at being stitched. Interesting. And his blue hair reminded Penguin of Killers- wait. No. No. No.
"Thanks, mate," Heat gave Penguin a little nudge after the latter had cleaned up all the blood and wrapped a bandage around it.
"You're welcome. Be careful," Penguin responded quietly. The only thing he felt was pure anxiety. His heart was beating faster than it should. Heat left the room silently, holding the door open for... Killer.
Penguin sighed. He was acting like a school girl. But he was a grown man. A pirate with medical knowledge, at that. But he was also hiding his face behind a penguin ushanka... Whatever.
"Hello, how can I help you?" He spoke up, sounding neutral and collected as Killer sat down in front of him, not taking his mask off. Penguin's heart seemed to beat loud enough for it to be audible in the otherwise silent room.
"I think..." Killer began, but stopped.
That voice... Penguin wanted to faint, his legs got notably more weak.
"My cheekbone may be broken."
Penguin raised his eyebrows. That was not what he had expected.
"Could you... take off your mask? Otherwise I can't help you," He spoke, trying to sound more soft.
Killer just sat there. It's not like he showed immediate repulsion or dislike. He just sat there.
Suddenly Penguin felt like Killer wasn't just a strong and bloodthirsty man. There seemed to be some deep rooted insecurity. It tugged at the heartstrings of the medical assistant.
"Look... I uncover my face... you uncover yours. We'll both be bare," Penguin offered, keeping his voice soothing.
It seemed to make the blond man think. Slowly, he nodded.
Penguin gave a little smile. Just now he realised how eager he had been to see Killer's face.
Penguin reached for his hat, pulling it off his head, revealing his entire face and black and white, short hair. Out of curious brown eyes, he looked at Killer, a faint hue of red on his face. But Penguin didn't dare pressure the blond man. After a couple more moments of silence, Killer motioned to his head. There were faint voices — Law and Kid arguing. Once again. But Penguin chose to gracefully ignore it.
Killer had entirely removed his mask. Penguin's eyes darted — the bruised and swollen cheek, the sharp blue eyes ... blond goatee and purple lips. Kissable lips, if he dared to think so. Killer seemed to be in a state of constant amusement, his lips were oddly close to a grin or smile. Whatever it was, Penguin felt his cheeks were hot enough to cook eggs on.
"I'll take a closer look. Don't get scared, my hands are a little cold," Penguin spoke up softly, getting on a fresh pair of gloves.
He inched a little closer, brushing some loose blond strands to the side. It was immediately apparent, the area of his right cheek and eye was swollen and coloured in various tones of blue and purple. But it was not obviously deformed or lopsided. It probably wasn't a complicated fracture.
"Is it okay if I touch it? You have to tell me where it hurts, okay?"
Killer gave back a small "yes."
Penguin started with soft taps and light pressure where the face wasn't bruised yet. There was no response from Killer, so it probably did not hurt there. As Penguin drew closer to the fracture itself, the blond man gave a hum, signalling that it started to hurt. But around the infraorbital nerve, there was no response.
"Does it feel numb here?" Penguin intrigued, applying a bit more pressure with his index finger.
"Yes," Killer confirmed quietly.
Penguin moved his index a bit lower, testing when Killer would feel again. A hum, when Penguin was just above his lips. The annoying little voice in the back of Penguins head - it reminded him of Shachi- dared him to touch the lips.
"Can you open your mouth entirely?"
As the blond man tried to open his mouth, he stopped after a short moment. "No."
So he also got a trism? Oh man.
Penguin leaned back, giving Killer more space.
"Well, it's not a complicated fracture. It will heal without surgery. Give it six to eight weeks and it will heal on its own. But in the meanwhile, you need to cool it. Don't apply pressure. Chewing might be uncomfortable, I recommend soft foods. The numb feeling from your infraorbital nerve will stay for a while. But it'll go on its own too," Penguin spoke grabbing for his pencil.
"And the bruises?" Killer asked, sounding genuinely curious.
Penguin kept quiet for a moment, taking another look at them. "They'll fade in the next three to six weeks. Same for the swelling."
Killer nodded... almost softly.
"You may need pain killers. And ... to be fair, Captain's gonna strangle me if I don't keep you here for surveillance. It's not safe for you just stroll out again," Penguin admitted sheepishly, writing some things down for 'documentation purposes'.
Again, Killer kept quiet. That wry grin not leaving his beauti— his face. Simply, his face.
Penguin cleared his throat, starting to feel hot again. He got the latex gloves off his hands and threw them into a trash can under the table.
"I'll talk to both of our captains. Don't run away," he muttered under his breath. Silently, he put his hat back on and left the room.
"He's your patient, Penguin," Law said firmly, crossing his arms. His annoyed expression showed that he just had a 'talk' with Kid.
"That means ... yes?" Penguin kept pushing, leaning a little closer to his captain.
"You're in charge of him. If he doesn't get food, that's on you."
Penguin nodded eagerly. While he was more excited to keep talking to Killer than he should be, he also felt incredibly anxious. The last thing Penguin wanted was to make Killer think he was a weirdo...
"We're staying here anyway. Keep 'em all to yourself, Penguin."
A small grin tugged at the corners of the medical assistants mouth. He managed to get agreement from both captains. Even if Kid did significantly terrify him.
Penguin's shoulders felt lighter as he made his way back to the room Killer was waiting in. Well... where he hopefully was waiting.
After all, Penguin told him not to run away.
Gently, he opened the wooden door.
As expected, Killer was still sitting on the bed.
"Our captains agreed. Kid said you guys were staying on this island anyway. My captain said I'm now in charge of your treatment," Penguin explained, his tone a bit more cheerful than earlier.
Killer had gotten his mask back on, his head silently following Penguin as the latter walked through the room to pick up pain killers from the improvised medical shelf.
"Thanks," The blond said, rather simple.
Penguin started to get a feeling for what kind of person Killer was. He wouldn't be a poet. At least not in this life. All he said was yes, no, thanks and humming.
It was silent for a while, Penguin got his hat off again. First, he washed his hand thoroughly, making sure to get them all clean. Then, he poured some tap water into a glass and got a single pill out of its package. But he stopped in his motion.
"How bad is the pain? From one to ten?" He spoke up, breaking the silence.
"Five," Killer responded shortly.
Penguin nodded, breaking the pill in half. That should be enough. In a swift motion, he turned around and handed Killer one half of the pill and the glass, hoping he wouldn't complain.
The blond man did indeed not complain. He simply lifted his mask until his mouth was uncovered. Penguin didn't expect to be so ... attracted by something as simple as swallowing a pill. His legs threatened to weaken again, he sighed heavily.
Killer handed him the empty glass silently. For a mere moment, their fingers graced one another. Penguin's heart threatened to stop, as he retreated to the sink with the now empty glass. Good god.