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"Alright," Shanks says, leaning back against Shamrock's bed. "What do we need to do?"
He's pretty sure Beck should still be sleeping, but he brought lunch with him when he came to check on Shanks and Shamrock, and Shanks is suddenly realizing that he's starving. He'll tell Beck to get some sleep when he's done eating. Or . . . maybe it's Shanks' turn to sleep again? He's been stealing Beck's bed to sleep in between watches, with his own bed occupied by Ace. He's only managed to grab snatches of sleep between dim and forgotten nightmares, and it's starting to catch up with him.
"Contact Dragon," Shanks continues, counting off on his fingers. "See if we can get a line on Ace and Luffy's brother. We still have to catch up with the Whitebeard's to get Ace back to them." He sighs, thinking. "Do we have anyone near Sabaody who can get a message to Ray? He and Shakky might be able to keep an eye Mariejois for us, tell us if there's anything going on. Whether the Celestials are acting any differently than usual. If they know Shamrock's still alive, there's going to be hell to pay."
"It's not like we can get any warning beforehand if the Knights decide to drop in on us," Beck points out.
"No," Shanks agrees with a sigh. "We'll just have to hope that they assume Shamrock is dead, rather than gone rogue."
"Any chance of that?"
"Slim to none!" Shanks grins at Beck. "But hey, no point not hoping, right?"
"Right." Beck picks at the crust of his sandwich, taking a bite mechanically. "And what about Shamrock himself?"
Shanks hesitates. "He has to stay. At least for now. At least until we figure out how to stop--" He rubs a hand over his eyes. "Everything. You dying, Ace dying, everyone dying, that damned thing on the Empty Throne gunning for Luffy. Hell, I don't even know how much we have to stop! And he's probably changed enough just by kidnapping Ace that his information is out of date already."
"But as long as he might know something that can keep the future he knows from coming to pass," Beck says, "it's worth keeping him around."
That's so unexpected that Shanks has to put down his sandwich. "Beck, are you really advocating for keeping Shamrock around?"
"Your brother is an amoral scumbag with little to no sense of how to be a decent person or even what a person is," Beck says, in the same flat, calm way he gives his evaluations of rookie crewmembers. "But he also cut off his arm to keep you alive. I appreciate that sort of dedication."
"Aw, Beck," Shanks says, sitting up. "You like him!"
"I will not hesitate to shoot him the second I think that his priorities have changed," Beck replies. "Also, you don't like him."
"He's sort of growing on me," Shanks replies.
Shamrock wakes up with a strangled gasp, jolting upright.
"Shit." Shanks is up and moving in one smooth motion. At this point, he's getting pretty used to talking Shamrock down from nightmares. "Hey, hey, you're fine, this is fine. Just lay back down before you fuck up those ribs even worse, huh."
But instead of relaxing, Shamrock shakes his head, looking at Shanks with wild eyes. "You're dead," he says. "You're dead."
"Nope, no," Shanks says, starting to feel uneasy. "That's been undone, Shamrock, remember? You're okay. You're on the Red Force."
Instead of helping, grounding Shamrock, reminding him where and when he is, it only seems to distress him further. "You're not real," he insists. "None of this is. I killed you." His voice breaks, and he stops fighting back and lets Shanks coax him back down. As he does, Shanks realizes Shamrock is boiling.
"Fever's worse," he tells Beck over his shoulder. "Get Hongo." Beck is out the door almost before Shanks is done talking.
Shamrock is shaking under Shanks' hand. "I'm sorry," he says. "I would never-- I wanted you to come home. I didn't mean to."
"I know," Shanks replies. He reaches out to find Shamrock's hand and squeeze it. "I know."
"I'm sorry," Shamrock repeats, eyes glassy. He frowns. "Where's Marco?"
Shanks winces. "Not here right now."
Shamrock seems to fall into resignation immediately. "He's dead too, then."
"He's not dead," Shanks tries. "He's with his crew."
"His crew is dead."
"He's with the living part of his crew."
"His crew is all dead."
Shanks hesitates. "All of them?"
"They would not permit even the remnants to survive," Shamrock replies distantly.
The sheer scope of destruction in Shamrock's future continues to terrify Shanks. It can't be comprehended. Every time he thinks he understands, Shamrock says something else, and another piece of Shanks' world-- another constant he thought was eternal-- is chipped away. Things have hung at a status quo for so long; he's gotten used to it. Maybe he's gotten complacent.
He believed that the new generation would bring about a change, but he'd thought it would be a good change. It still can be, if they can keep the Government from crushing the kids before they come into themselves.
"It's okay," Shanks tries to soothe. "Everything's going to be okay."
"No," Shamrock says dully. "It has already ended."
That's when Hongo comes in, and Shanks looks up in profound relief.
The next few minutes are a blur of temperature-taking, and Hongo making worried noises, and administering medication-- made all the more difficult by the fact that, in Shamrock's current state, he doesn't recognize Hongo. He doesn't have the strength to fight, but determination to resist, he has in spades. Hongo has to sedate Shamrock to keep him from hurting himself further.
"We'll have to keep an eye on him," Hongo says quietly, glancing at Shanks. "The fever isn't a cause for panic, but it's certainly a concern. More than anything else, he needs to stay still."
"Every time he wakes up, he hurts himself," Shanks replies. "He keeps having nightmares. And if he's delirious, I can hardly reason with him."
Hongo rubs his brow and sighs. "The best I can do about that is pain management," he says. "And he's not willing to tell me how much pain he's really in. I'm guessing, Shanks, and hoping for the best."
"You're doing your best," Shanks says. He manages a smile. "Thanks, Hongo. We'd all be lost without you, y'know?"
"And don't you forget it," Hongo sighs.
He leaves, closing the door behind himself, and Shanks sits down on the edge of Shamrock's bed. At least Shamrock is starting to fall back asleep as the medication kicks in. Shanks takes his brother's hand again.
"Ah, Shamrock," he sighs. "I'm sorry." He squeezes, then lets go.
"Ngh-- no!" Shamrock manages, reaching out to him.
"Hey, no," Shanks takes his hand again. "I'm here. Not leaving." Shamrock slowly starts to relax again.
Well, Beck's not going to be happy about this. On the other hand, if Shanks sticking around keeps away the nightmares, then that might keep Shamrock from exacerbating his injuries, and that'll make Hongo happy, so maybe it all shakes out in the end.
"Alright, budge over," Shanks says. He settles down on the bed, sitting against the wall by Shamrock's knees. He steals a pillow that's fallen on the ground to put behind his back and leans against the wall.
It's not so uncomfortable, really. Shamrock's fingers are too warm where they tangle with his, but it's a reminder that the asshole is still here. Still living. The cabin is comfortably warm, and Shanks can hear the ship's familiar creaks and groans through the wall behind him. The anxiety is draining away, and he's starting to feel utterly exhausted.
He's just going to lean back and rest his eyes for a while. Just until Beck comes back . . .
-----
"Kid, there's plenty of berths on the ship for Shanks to borrow," Benn says. He sounds kind, but his eyes are tired. "He wants to make sure you're comfortable."
"I know," Ace says, fidgeting. "And I appreciate it." He straightens, looking Benn in the eyes. "But I'm the Second Commander of a rival crew. It's not right for me to take up your captain's cabin when he needs it. Not after all you've already done for me."
A there-and-gone-again smile flickers across Benn's face. "Well, you can talk to the boss," he allows. "But he'll tell you the same as I already have."
"Thank you, Benn," Ace says. None of Makino's old lesson apply to what to do when you've been rescued by the captain of a crew who are technically enemies of your captain, but more at a standing ceasefire than really properly opposed, especially when that captain is the man who saved your younger brother's life. But Ace figures that occupying Shanks' cabin for longer than he needs to is probably impolite.
Ace follows Benn down the hall, back down to the sickroom where the Red-Hairs have been keeping Shamrock. It's easier to go down there now, especially following behind Benn. But when Benn opens the door, he stop instead of going in.
There's a faintly amused look on his face when he turns back to Ace. "Afraid you'll have to wait to talk to the boss, kid."
Ace leans over to look inside.
Both Shamrock and Shanks are fast asleep inside. Shamrock is laying down, same as he was when Ace saw him before, but now Shanks is sitting in the bed, legs thrown overtop Shamrock's knees, head leaning back against the wall. He doesn't react at all to the open door, and Benn eases it shut slowly.
"Boss always could fall asleep anywhere," he remarks wryly. "Though I've never caught him sleeping on a watch before." He pats Ace on the shoulder. "Guess you're stuck using the captain's cabin for now. Why don't you go find some lunch? Lucky Roux will be happy to help you get whatever you need."
He heads off down the corridor. Ace watches him go, then glances at the door. He still feels a little bad about stealing Shanks' room, but at least he's getting some sleep. Ace might as well accept their hospitality with dignity.
Time to find the galley, then. It feels like it's been ages since breakfast, and Ace is suddenly starving.