Chapter Text
Shamrock could not help the way he stiffens when the doctor leaves the room. The man was one of his father's staff, available when Shamrock's preferred doctor had not been and he could already see the disappointment and thinly veiled disgust on his features, although he did his best to remain professional.
"The children should be out of danger now," the doctor remarked with apathy. "They are responding to treatment and the smoke inhalation was minor. Of course, the other matter remains."
Shamrock did not need to ask. He had noticed the patches from the very beginning. Had chosen to take them despite them.
"Frankly speaking, Saint Shamrock, you would be better off searching for new pets." The word pets made him freeze, red eyes glaring at the doctor although the man was simply uninterested in Shamrock's emotions.
"These will not last long. The girl is weaker, and will die sooner. The boy might live for another three years or so at most. I am sure if these sort of slaves are your preference, there are enough to be found in the Human Auction Houses. With your resources tontattas should not be difficult to secure. My advice is to be rid of these ones as soon as you can. Amber lead might not be contagious as the rumours say, but it is without a cure. Not even the superior technology of the Holy Land can change that."
Shamrock could see in the doctor's eyes that even if it did, he would have considered it a waste of resources. And Father's doctor or not, Shamrock would not allow his choices to be disparaged by someone lower in rank than him.
"Your services are no longer required," was the only response Shamrock offered. "I trust you know the way out. And for the future, expect your dealings with the Figarland family to dwindle."
He could not kick him out completely, not without Father's approval. But he could make him fall out of favour enough that Father would choose to remove the doctor himself.
Shamrock did not bother watching the doctor leave; instead he turned his back to the door, hand hovering above the jewellery box in which he had placed the children. There had been nothing else in sight small enough for them and the velvet cushions along with the satin walls would do well until he would be able to commission something for them.
A bed, of course. Soft and comfortable, suited for their size. Shamrock would rather lean towards satins for it, but the children might be more comfortable in velvet and cotton.
The girl whimpered in her sleep, curled in her brother's side. The boy's hands twitched, small bandages peppering his arms where the fire had gotten to him while trying to protect his sister. Shamrock was still unsure why he had saved them - his trip to Flevance had been meant for information only, to see if anything could be recovered from the destruction. He had almost passed them by; wouldn't have seen them at all if the girl hadn't whimpered, if her brother hadn't shushed her desperately, voice cracking as he begged her to stay awake for a while longer.
The moment his eyes fell on them, the boy jumped to his feet and almost toppled, a too small rock in his hands the only protection he had for himself and his sister.
They were small. Too small and weak, fragile. Delicate even, with their white marked skin and shivering bodies.
Broken, the doctor had said and Shamrock had wanted to snap at him in anger.
Perhaps, if Father had not just told Shamrock that he had a brother out there, a twin that Father was doing his best to bring back home, he would have abandoned them there. Left them to die in the rubble. But as he watched the boy barely stand, fiercely protecting his sister, he vowed to himself he would do the same for this mysterious brother he had never met before as soon as he was home.
And he vowed that these fierce, little children, survivors of a destruction as thorough as a buster call, would live, no matter what he had to do to ensure that.
Shanks was not sure what to think about his so called family. Sure, Saint Figarland Garling was everything Shanks had thought he would be - everything Captain had warned him against. A self assured asshole that thought himself king of the world and was not afraid to show it. Shanks had fought hard to keep his poker face as he was forced to listen to his sperm donor talk about how horrible it must have been for his son to be trapped in the Lower World, how he must now catch up with his lessons, how his manners needed work.
The clothes Shanks had been forced to put on itched something fiercely. They were constrictive and he hated them, wanted to rip them apart at all times, but he could not, not when he was playing the role of dutiful son.
His brother on the other hand; Shamrock was a dilemma. Sure, he too had their father's mannerism and beliefs, the arrogance to match it. On the other hand, he was warm towards Shanks. Opening. As if he had missed him without even knowing him. Wanted him at his side.
Shanks had a brother and that was Buggy. He was not sure he wanted another. But it was hard to resist Shamrock's genuine care.
And then there were the children. The children that everyone called pets, that even Garling scoffed at. The ones that Shamrock held in his pocket and allowed no one else to get close to. No one but Shanks himself to whom Shamrock had not shied to explain they were his children and Shanks would be their uncle. Even if the little boy snarled and hissed, more feral than anything. Even if the little girl shivered in fear and cowered behind her brother. And yet, with Shamrock, they mellowed out.
Shanks had seen Shamrock break Sommers' wrist when he brought the golden cage. When he had snarked and suggested that his twin keep his pets locked up. Law had seen the image too, peeking out of the pocket and the expression on his face had been one of utter delight. Shanks had not been surprised to see the cage thrown out in the very next moment.
On the other hand, it did not take him long to realise Garling utterly despised Shamrock's attachment to the kids. and wished they were gone. As a member of the family, Shanks had been privy to enough discussion that had toed the edge of civility about Law and Lami, bad enough to make Shamrock's pocket vibrate - fear on Lami's part, anger on Law's.
"It is unbecoming," Garling hissed at dinner, slamming his hands on the table, the first of many moments when Shanks would see the Saint lose his temper. His twin merely met his gaze head on and did not falter in the slightest.
"They are mine to do with as I please. You have sent me to Flevance on a mission that I have completed. What else I brought from that mission is no one's business but mine."
"You brought sick pets that a harsh wind can blow over," Shanks noticed the way Shamrock's hands "twitched" at the word pets. "If you like this pathetic lowlife race so much you can buy ones that are not broken."
Something silver pocked through Shamrock's pocket and Shanks did not need to be a genius to know it was Law's little sword. The boy, it seemed, was reaching the end of his patience.
"Brother?" Shamrock's attention turned from their father to Shanks who was playing with the food in his plate and wishing he were anywhere else.
This mission was important, he knew. There was so much he needed to do and so little time. But he missed his crew like a missing limb, ached to see them again, hoped they didn't hate him for this.
"Yeah?" He merely cocked his head sideways, waited for his twin to tell him whatever he wanted, hoped that Garling would not blow up on both of them.
"Will you take the children upstairs? This discussion is upsetting for them."
Without a moment of hesitation, Shamrock picked his kids from his pocket and placed them in the hands Shanks had stretches out of habit alone. As expected, Law was keeping his sister behind his back, hissing and brandishing his little toothpick sword.
As he headed upstairs, Shanks marveled, not for the first time, how Shamrock trusted him with the kids utterly and completely.
It was as perplexing as it was humbling, and Shanks had no idea what he had done to earn it. What he had learned, on the other hand, within those first weeks, was that his brother's children were feral little gremlins who had sized him up, found him weak, and exploited every crack in his defences with the same precision he and Buggy had exploited Roger and Rayleigh's.
It was easy to mistake Law for being the angry one and for Lami being the weaker, soft spoken one.
They were to a point - it had a lot to do with trauma, Shanks knew, to a past they both refused to talk about and Shamrock refused to disclose quite yet. All Shanks knew was that they were found in a ruined town and that could never be a good thing, but he was unsure if they were there by accident, were witness to the destruction or Calypso forbid they had actually lived there before and survived by a miracle.
However, beyond the trauma and the illness clouding them both - an illness that Shanks had also not been told about in detail yet, merely that Shamrock was looking for a cure, the kids skittish and haunted whenever it was brought up - the two were little shits that were fiercely loyal to their - parental figure? father? Shamrock called them his kids, but they never used any familial term in return, always calling him Shamrock. Perhaps it was too soon still.
They disliked Shamrock being berated just as much as Shanks' twin disliked people calling them pets and would, without a doubt, drag Shanks into trouble by conning and convincing and batting their eyelashes at him to help them raise hell against the people who wrong Shamrock, be it Garling himself, another knight or any other obnoxious Celestial Dragon.
Shanks had never really cared about his biological family. He'd known he was not Roger's or Rayleigh's. Both of them always loved to regale him with the story of finding him in a treasure chest. But the fact was, they were more his dads than anyone else in the world. He'd had uncles and aunts and maybe even cousins in the form of Whitebeard's kids - even if Marco refused the role. He had a brother. None of them by blood, yet nothing about it made them less loved.
Now he had a family by blood and as close as he had grown to Shamrock - and hadn't that been a surprise? His supposed evil, asshole of a brother was not quite evil and a doting father who was wrapped around his kids' fingers - Garling made him want to bash a plate over his head and shove the shiny silver spoon down his fucking throat.
Case in point.
"Shanks, are you listening to me," Garling's voice brings him out of his daydreaming and Shanks can admit he was not, indeed, listening to his bio donor, nor did he care much about what he had to say. As soon as he had started droning on and on about how unsuitable it was for Shamrock to have sub-par pets, Shanks had tuned off, too afraid he would do or say something to give himself away.
"I apologize, Father, my mind had drifted," the words are stilted on his tongue, the attempt to speak less like a pirate and more like a noble an exercise he had gotten the hang of but which he abhorred. Just as much as he hated calling the man Father. Roger had been his father in all the ways that counted. Rayleigh had been his dad. Garling had no right to any of those titles.
"Another sign of your poor upbringing, no doubt," Garling scoffed. "Must have been hard to focus while being around swine all day." Shanks' hands shivered minutely under the table, but he remained silent. "I will repeat myself, but do not make a habit out of this. It is a commodity I allow you simply as you get adjusted."
Part of him imagined Yassop at the back of his mind, telling Garling how he'd adjust his boot right up his ass. It made Shanks feel better.
"I have said that I find myself getting tired of your brother's stubbornness in keeping those pets. Therefore I will issue him an ultimatum. Either he stops using Figarland funds to keep them alive and gets rid of them, or I will be forced to take matters into my own hands. I know your brother is partial to listening your advice, so you will be tasked with convincing him."
Convince Shamrock? To get rid oh his children? The children that his brother loves more than anything in the world?
"I do not think -" he started saying, unsure how he would even go about changing Garling's mind.
"That was not up for debate, Shanks. Either you do something about it or I will."
Shanks will do something about it, that's for sure. He simply had not been planning to do something about it so soon. Beck was going to be so unhappy with him.
Shamrock did not have favourites; it was easy to see as Shanks watched him interact with his children, how he loved them both equally. Doted on both of them. Spared no expense, nor any moment of his free time to find a cure for an illness that all claimed uncurable. His drive was such that even Law, who had been resigned to dying from the very beginning - and how sad it was, for a ten year old, to have already embraced death - was starting to think they would reach adulthood.
Shanks on the other hand; well he was the fun uncle and although he loved both munchkins, he could not deny the soft spot he had for Lami. The little girl was sweet natured, with a hidden sassy streak when she felt confident. A prankster by nature even if most of the time the Amber Lead was keeping her down. And just as fierce as Law, even if she showed it in different ways.
Perhaps that was why he slipped; started telling her short stories about his crew, a crew he supposedly hated. A crew he had left behind. His second family after the Roger pirates. The ones who truly saved him.
"So then Yassop said -"
Shanks had once again had to take the kids to bed while Shamrock stayed behind to hash one matter or another with Garling. So far their bio donor had made no move to discuss his ultimatum with his twin, but Shanks knew it was only a matter of time. And he sure as hell was not going to try and convince Shamrock to get rid of the kids.
He was speeding up his plans, doing everything he needed faster and then maybe he'd have time to plan something for them too. Just a little more and he'd do it.
"Who is this Yassop person?" A voice came from the doorway and Shanks paled as he turned around to see his brother, arms crossed and a frown on his features.
Fuck
"Shanks imagined him up for us!"
Lami piped up from her bed, excitedly waving her arms around, an innocent smile on her face and fuck, Shanks had never been more thankful he had told both kids that none of the stories he told them were to be repeated to their father, even if it had only been Law that was told the actual reason. Lami still thought it was one great game.
"Did he now?" Shamrock asked indulgently, smiling at his daughter and reaching out to tuck her blanket around her.
"He did, he did!" Lami explained. "Yassop is a sniper. He can shoot any target no matter how small and he likes to drink orange juice because snipers need it to see better and always eats his vegetables."
Well, Shanks may have exaggerated a bit there, but Lami seemed entranced with tales about Yassop and if that made her eat her greens, that was less of a headache for him whenever Shamrock left him to babysit.
Which was happening more and more often now that Garling decided he did not want to allow Shamrock time around his kids anymore.
It made Shanks' heart hurt, how much his brother loved these children, children that the world at large tried to kill, that everyone around them saw as pets.
That was why he had to do something. Before something happened. Before the secret Lami slipped up with became known.
Something had to change. The kids deserved to be free. Shamrock deserved to be able to see them grow in a world that would not mock them as pets, would not hiss slurs under wine stained breathes about their existence. His twin might not like it - will definitely not like it - but Shanks' niblings deserved better and unfortunately for all the plans he and Beck had painstakingly put together, that better meant getting his twin out of Mariejois even if he would be kicking and screaming.
Or drugged. Shanks does have access to the Figarland infirmary after all, and Buggy had never been shy about his passion for sedatives back in the day. Knowledge that would come in handy now.
"Is that how you got her to eat her vegetables," Shamrock whispered in his brother's ear as soon as his daughter quietened down, the bout of excitement exhausting her faster than it would have a healthy child. The Knight could not help himself from frowning, watching the way the white patches now covered so much of her small face.
"Hmm. It seemed like something that would convince a small kid."
Shamrock would not know. He had never been given the leisure of being fussy as a child. It was expected of him that he behaved; that his manners were impeccable and he did not comment on any of the food that Father served. There had been vegetables he had hated, meals that rolled in his stomach. He had eaten them all, properly, as a Figarland scion was wont to do.
When Lami had first shrieked that she hated peas, tears in her eyes and the little tantrum the first sign of the fire inside her, Shamrock had folded. Perhaps he should not have, but she was showing signs of breaking out of her depression, or trying to move past her trauma. If sacrificing a few peas was the price he would accept it.
He had not expected the little minx to figure out his weakness and keep exploiting it.
"Is there any of your characters that particularly favours fish?" Shamrock murmured back, watching as Law struggled to stay awake, even after he curled around his sister. "Maybe we'll convince them to eat that as well."
"Sure," Shanks shrugged with a grin, gently dragging Shamrock away from the kids to let them sleep. "Lucky Roux. He is a cook and he can make the most fantastic dishes out of any type of meat. His favourite is sea bass."
For a moment it seemed odd. If Shamrock listened carefully, it felt as if Shanks was almost... nostalgic. But that could not be, could it? They were simply fairy-tale characters.
If there was something Shanks hated above everything else in Mariejois, it was having meals alone with Garling, especially after the ultimatum he had given about Shamrock's children.
"How is your mission of convincing your brother of getting rid of his broken pets?"
Breath in. Breathe out. Shanks could not afford to get angry. Could not afford to break his role even if he wanted to feed his bio donor to a seaking.
"It is slow going. Shamrock is very attached to them."
Slow going as in going nowhere. Shanks was going to get all out them out of Mariejois before Garling had the chance to do anything against them.
"Attached?" Garling turned to him with a raised eyebrow and Shanks cursed internally. Attachment to lesser beings was not allowed in the Figarland family.
"As his possessions, of course," Shanks redirected as smooth as he could. At the back of his mind he privately thought he could hear Buggy screeching at him how bad he was at this.
"Ah, of course. Shamrock has always been peculiar of his possessions," Garling acknowledged taking a sip of wine. "He was most displeased when I gifted his nanny to the Roswald family. Of course, he came to understand that she was not his possession, but mine."
Deep breaths, Shanks.
"Of course," Shanks nodded in fake understanding. "Unfortunately, his pets," the word made his stomach churn, "are of course his possession. So he is rather reluctant to give up what he considers the spoils of a successful mission."
If this mission wouldn't kill him, Shanks would end himself if he had to spew more of this bullshit.
"Very well. It seems I perhaps need to send Shamrock on another mission. For sure he will find something there to catch his eye and forget about his current pets."
Shanks highly doubted that. But at least it made Garling shut up. The meal continued on in silence.
"What are you hiding?"
Shanks refused to admit he jumped a foot in the air when the kid's voice echoed behind him - they were supposed to be asleep damn it.
Instead Law was sitting on the vanity, arms crossed and a frown on his features as Shanks scrambled to hide the papers he had managed to steal, the information that he had finally, finally, been able to find, information that would let him get the hell out of the viper's pit that was Mariejois and go back home to his real family.
With a few extra additions that was. Not that Shamrock would become aware of it until he was on the Force.
"Uhhhhh," good going Shanks, unable to lie to a child of all things.
"You're a shit spy, you know that?" Law scoffed, sitting down cross legged and watching Shanks with a judgmental look, which what?
First of all he was a great spy thank you very much, no one has caught him after all, second how did the kid know?
"I'm not a spy Law," he tried in his friendliest tone that usually worked on the kids. Or well, it worked on Lami.
"Sure," Law scoffed. "And I'm assuming they simply allowed you to have papers stamped with the seal of the Five Elders when you're not even a knight yet."
"How do you even know all this???"
Right, remaining cool was thrown out the window because Law should not have this information. But then again while Shamrock was a doting father, he was also a new father. And Shanks doubted anyone had ever told him exactly what kids are supposed to know and not to know. Somehow he could see his twin sharing details of his mission with his kid.
If it were Garling, Shanks would think he was easing the kids into following in his footsteps. But Shamrock is too much of a stressed parent to do that. If he could he'd wrap the kids in cotton.
"Have you seen our dad?"
Huh it was the first time the kids actually used that term for Shamrock, even if not to his face. It made something warm flutter inside Shanks, the confirmation that even if he is blowing his actual plans hell-high, he is doing something good. It will be hard and Beck will murder him and Yas' won't stop yelling for ages, but at least -
"Do you honestly think he has even the slightest clue how to parent right? Our first day here, he read me confidential paperwork to calm me down. Garling just about lost his mind when he heard."
His brother, reading confidential papers to a just sort of adopted traumatized child to help with his panic. Somehow it made so much sense, and Shanks no longer wondered how Law had realized that he was a spy. He was more curious what did the boy know. But that was a question for another day. Spy or not, he was not going to interrogate a sick 10 year old. Especially a sick 10 year old that was his nephew.
"I came here with a plan that my old Captain made," Shanks finally admitted, no longer trying to hide the papers fruitlessly. Instead, he showed them to Law. The drawing of the devil fruit, the old name and the new one, sightings over a period of 800 years. And the confirmation that they had found it, that they would be moving through the East Blue before bringing it to Mariejois.
"I need to get my hands on it. For my Captain, yes, but also so it doesn't fall in their hands. It can never fall in their hands." Shanks was sure he must sound a bit crazed now, voice slightly high and hysterical, but his time window was so small and he had to smuggle the kids out, take Shamrock with him, make sure no one knew.
"Also," another set of papers. Another devil fruit. Also sighted in one of the Blues. "A cure. For one of you. I haven't found something for both, not yet, but Shamrock is also looking. Garling was hiding this from him."
"Lami gets it," Law stated firmly, arms crossed over his little chest and yeah, Shanks was expecting this. "Doesn't matter if you find anything else for me or not. Lami gets it."
"You might need to sneak feed it to her, you know Shamrock will feel bad about choosing one of you, but yeah I heard you kid."
Shanks could unfortunately even see the logic behind Law's protective love. Lami was frailer and sicker, getting weaker by the day. It could get to a point where she won't even be able to use the fruit to heal herself if they dawdle. They would find a cure for Law as well, but he had time whereas Lami did not.
"You're a good brother, kid. Heck, you're teaching Shamrock to be a good brother too. A bit too hovering, but still."
"You didn't think he'd be?" Law isn't a fool. He knows what he wants to ask with that question. If Shanks would have left Shamrock being had it not been for the kids. Yes. Without a doubt. Probably without hesitation.
"I don't think he'd have known how to be," Shanks sighed dropping on the armchair, papers at his side. "I came here and expected another Garling. Instead there was you and Shamrock was..."
A good parent. A kind brother. Something Shanks had not been ready for.