Long Time Coming

Pirates to his left and marines to his right; he’s so caught up in the chaos of war, he doesn’t notice the lack of cover fire from behind, until he hears and sees two things — Henrietta screaming for help, and Julien on the ground, and everything else stops mattering. Those pirates and marines become the same obstacle. He barrels through them and runs past his daughter, barking out an order to “Go find your mother!,” and then his fist is in the bastard’s face. 

The bastard who beat down his son and left him in a pool of his own blood, who stepped on all the bodies in his way. A rotten man who even pirates can’t stomach, and they rose up to halt his advance. He’s never met this man, but Abraham knows him from the way Julien stubbornly hid things and rushed to quiet conflicts and flinched whenever Abraham raised his voice in the first week of his training. Just like Evie’s son of a bitch ex-husband, Abraham has met this man many times, and he will meet him again. There will always be men like this.

And there will always be men to stop them.

“Vice Admiral de Witte, we’re sorry we couldn’t get any closer to the Captain!”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Cadet.” Abraham grits his teeth, wipes the bloodied image from his mind. If he looks at Julien too long, he’s not sure he’ll be able to fight. “All of you, get outta the way. Go find somewhere safe to hide, or get yourselves to the medical bay so Meri’s team can patch you up.”

“Yes, sir!”

They clear the path, giving him a straight line to the pirate on the ground. He stands up, regarding the Vice Admiral with a look that could curdle dairy.

“I ain’t seen an uglier mug.”

“Likewise. I heard that right? You’re Vice Admiral de Witte?”

“What’s it to ya?”

“To me? Nothing. To Julien? Everything.” 

The bodies around him sizzle and leak acrid fluid, and the air around him crackles. Something is wrong with his hands, and that’s when Abraham sees it, whole bodies disintegrating to nothing but puddles of water. So that’s why no one could get in close. Bastard’s got a Devil Fruit.

“He’ll have no choice but to come back to me once I get rid of these pesky distractions.” 

He lunges with one hand forward. So he’s aiming for the kill, huh? Well he’ll have to land a hit, first! Abraham side-steps. He’s not clear of danger however, and loses a couple of hairs to the other hand pulling a pistol on him from his goddamn jacket. Abraham takes a swing with his cane but pulls it back when his opponent makes a grab for it. Better in the long run to not lose his one ranged weapon, he reckons. Any contact with those hands and he’s done for.

The pistol is not the only dirty trick the pirate has up his sleeve. He rips arms and legs from felled marines and pirates to throw in Abraham’s direction. Most of them are an easy duck out of the way, but he misjudges the angle on one of them and is forced to put all his weight into his left leg to roll into a dodge. Something pulls in his leg and it gives. Abraham curses when sharp pain shoots up his side. He stumbles into the next one.

“Hm, thought so.” 

The pirate charges from the left, and Abraham realizes too late that he’d purposely been focusing on Abraham’s weak side. He cocks his cane and pulls the trigger, which surprises the pirate though ultimately doesn’t stop him, as he turns it into a lump of unrefined metal with a quick wave of his hand. The handle barely offers resistance to those deadly hands, but it’s just enough that Abraham takes the moment to stick his boot in the bastard’s side and send him flying.

He never meets the ground. The way he gracefully lands on his feet and turns to strike pisses Abraham off, but shit, his cane is split in two. He knew getting in close would be a bad idea. He prepares to just tough it out and take the hit, when a big hunk of Arabian muscle stops the attack entirely.

“Vice Admiral, a pleasure to see you again!”

Abraham’s cigar falls from his mouth. “Ramses?! Aw hell, you escaped too?”

He throws Abraham a grin over his shoulder and shoves his assailant out of the way. Ramses’s arms sizzle, but his Devil Fruit’s healing factor kicks in. It didn’t even nick him.

“Never have I been so glad to see you turn into a scorpion, ya bastard.”

“Is that any way to thank your hero? You owe me a round of beer.”

“If we survive, I’ll buy you the whole damn bar.”

Ramses laughs. “Deal! So, wanna tell me what you’re doin’ fighting Darshan of all people?”

“That guy hurt Julien one too many times. I’m returnin’ the favour.” Abraham gestures to his son, and Ramses tenses. So even the infallible Ramses Salamanca is put off by this guy, huh? Judging by his grimace, Abraham gets the feeling that he sure knows how to pick ‘em. This won’t be an easy win. Good thing nothing in life ever is.

Ramses unsheathes his blade just as Darshan gets up. “Watch yourself, Abraham.”

“Thanks for the concern, but I ain’t no damsel in distress.” Abraham tosses his cane aside, and reaches into his pockets to slip on his knuckle dusters. He’s going to beat Darshan to the ground with his own two fists. It’s been a long time coming.