"Please, just hold still..."

My brow was creased as I tried to keep the bandages from slipping every time Niji moved, and I was growing agitated. Not angry, just agitated. He was twisting and fidgeting, eyes set on the splintered wooden ceiling of the wrecked ship we'd made home for the past four days.

Finally, I managed to get it to sit right, and I sat back on my heels, breathing out a long sigh as I studied his face. He was gaunt, and the bags under his eyes were heavier than I had ever seen on a person.

It had been a few weeks since we had escaped Germa. I wasn't sure exactly how many, but it still felt like a fresh wound. There was no way of knowing if Yonji had survived, and Niji had barely made it through the first week.

His injuries had been so severe, I was positive that I had almost lost him, too. A fever had struck the evening after we had fled, and I had done everything in my power to keep him from succumbing to it. He still wasn't doing well, but he wasn't actively dying, at least.

I was no doctor, but at least five of his ribs had been broken, along with his right radius and a few others, where swelling was apparent. Cuts and gashes were in the early to mid stages of infection, only being staved off by whatever random medicines I had been able to convince people in the towns we passed through to give.

What really concerned me, however, was Niji's mental health. He was caught between days of ghostly silence and panicked ranting, dumping trauma after trauma without thought or filter. Ripping at his hair, clawing at his skin, getting so worked up that he'd start almost choking on his own breath.

He would beg for my help. For the temporary reprieve I could provide him, but it was getting harder and harder to think good thoughts myself. He had become entirely dependent on my Devil Fruit ability, and there was only so much I could do for so long.

We need a better solution...

"Are you hungry..? I managed to get a few cans of sardines from the grocer. They're disgusting, I know, but it's something..?" I hoped he'd accept my offer, but he just continued to stare up at the underside of the broken deck.

"Why did I let Yonji do that..?" That hadn't been the first time Niji had asked that question in such a flat, distant voice, but it still hurt just as much.
"Please don't think about that right now, you need to focus on getting better. You really need to ea-"

"He's probably dead. Should've been me. He would've been able to look after you better, anyway..." He continued, as though I hadn't even been talking. "I killed more than he did. Did more bad things. Do you know how many kids I've killed?"

Too many to count. I know, you've told me. Over and over...in great detail...

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I placed my hands on his cheeks and pulled his head back down so he'd look at me. There was so much pain in his eyes, so much uncertainty, and he was completely lost in it all. He had good days and bad, but neither were positive.

"Hey, remember when I climbed a tree just to talk to you, and you pulled all of those splinters out of my hands? You kept me balanced in your lap, and you were so careful with me. I think that's when I first started crushing on you." I forced the sound of a smile to my voice, but I wasn't sure if it was reaching my features or not.

He just stared back at me, or through me, I couldn't really tell.
"Remember when I attacked you in the laundry room? Remember when I shoved a fork down your throat? Remember when I threatened to kill you? Remember when-"

He continued to list every instance in which he had, or had threatened, to do me harm, even thoughts that he had had that had never become reality. It was unsettling, hearing such horrible stuff, but I knew the real Niji. It wouldn't have surprised me if half of it was just his current mental state whipping up more hell for his mind.

"I remember the first time you told me that you love me. Do you?" My thumbs brushed across the dark bags beneath his eyes, as though I could wipe them away. A blink, then two, he seemed to be actually focusing again, but his expression remained the same.

"Yeah...'course I do..." He murmured, leaning into my touch on one side, his fingers twisting together in his lap. I had been forced to cut his nails down, so he wouldn't do himself any more damage that way. "I need it to shut up now...Can you do it..?"

I knew exactly what he meant, and I dreaded it each and every time, but what was I supposed to do? If I refused, it would just set him off again and he'd end up hurting himself, but I knew it wasn't his fault. Coping mechanisms were foreign to him. He'd never had to cope before.

"Niji...could we maybe try a little longer without it? How about we try and think about all the things you like, huh?" I attempted to coax him towards something else, but that glassy, fractured stare intensified.
"Please...I can't keep doing this..."

I can't keep doing this either...

Steeling myself, I carefully pulled my hand away from his face, looking away from his twisting expression.
"I..It isn't healthy to keep doing it..." I wanted to continue, but he didn't give me a chance.

Clambering forward on his hands and knees, he rushed after me, positively distraught.
"No, please! You have to! Y..You can't let me stay like this! You have to! Right now!" He was like an addict, in the throes of withdrawal, desperate for a hit of what I had to offer.

This Niji scared me.

I never meant for it to activate, but the moment his skin touched mine he jolted back like a dog struck, a pitched, ugly yelp fleeing from his throat. Panic and terror made his eyes wild, and he retreated back to where he had came from, panting and gasping as he brought his knees to his chest.

We can't live like this!

"I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry, Niji..." I swallowed my emotion like a shot of broken glass, edging towards him with my hands lifted to show I wasn't out to harm him. "Okay, I'll...help you, but only for a minute..."

My happy thoughts were running dry. Just like I had in Alabasta, as a child, I scraped deep into the bottom of the barrel to find something, anything, that could at least get us through the night.

My late father's smile, as he told me how good I was at carrying bags of corn. Sir Crocodile lifting me into a twirl when he got back from his meetings. The scarce few times I saw rain painting the desert sands.

Moving to sit beside Niji, I guided him to lay his head down in my lap, combing my hands through his tangled, unwashed hair. Feeling him relax brought me such relief, but I couldn't succumb to it. I had to keep focused, otherwise I could have accidentally shared something that would set him off again.

He was a ticking time bomb at this point, and there was nothing at all I could do about it in these circumstances. One day I wasn't going to be able to stop him, and he could hurt someone, or himself. The day that happened would be the end of both of us.

Why had we left Germa? Why had I allowed him to go through with that plan? There were plenty of other options, ones that wouldn't have caused us such grief and agony. It was too late, though. We had made our beds.

There has to be somewhere we can go. Someone who can help him...

I racked my brain for what seemed like hours, all the while Niji restlessly slept in my lap. I soothed each twitch with a gentle touch, whispering the sweetest, most loving words I could muster.

Wait...

It suddenly hit me.

There was somewhere we could go. Actually, it was more like a someone we could go to. It was a very risky idea, but we really didn't have any other option. He needed someone who could provide us shelter, and help Niji to heal, even if it was only temporary.

Somebody who could understand, to a degree, what he'd been through. Who knew of Germa, and what they had done. Somebody who knew Niji.

God damn it...I really don't want to deal with the Straw Hats again...

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***I haven't abandoned these, I'm just always sick and exhausted (literally).

Next Time: Stowaways***